WEDNESDAY'S WISDOM: The Last Leaf Gardener (LLG) "Accepts" the Social Media Inevitability! LLG Joins Facebook & Twitter – – – posted by the Physocarpus opulifolius (aka Coppertina tree's) flower, today's guest blogger

Remember me? I'm one of the flowers from the Physocarpus opulifolius (Coppertina) tree that grows in the urban (New York City) garden of Patricia Youngquist, the person who maintains this blog The Last Leaf Gardener, and, nearly six months ago to the day, on May 5th (Cinco de Mayo), this tree which I grow upon, authored his first blog entry, which you may refer to by clicking here. 


I had not bloomed at the time, but I learned about the Coppertina's posting soon after I bloomed, around May 19th 2011, because I (along with the other flowers that bloomed with me on the Coppertina) was featured in one of Youngquist's blog entries — on this very blog — titled, My Physocarpus opulifolius (Coppertina) and the Prodigal Son's Brother, which you may refer to by clicking here.


A short time after that, a Monarch butterfly landed on me — as evidenced in the photograph posted below,

and this image  of me is most likely very familiar to you by this time, because it is the one Youngquist currently uses in the 'About' section of this blog (upper left hand corner), and she also uses it so folks can identify her on Flickr as well as tumblr, and, addtionallly, Youngquist uses it for her Gravatar, and I am thrilled — as she has many flowers from her garden to choose from — to be featured in these venues.



Moreover, I was equally thrilled when the butterfly first landed on me, as it, too, could have chosen to "land" on any one of the beautiful things which grow in this garden. I still recall the day the butterfly was flitting about this garden whilst I hoped he would choose to land on me, and, lo and behold, he did! And now, that event — the butterfly looking for a flower and finding me — is going to be the trailer for Youngquist's second garden movie! I can't tell you the plot right now, as I am sworn to secrecy, but if you'd like to see this trailer, it is posted on Vimeo or you may click here.


Meanwhile, as you may recall, dear reader, in Youngquist's first garden movie, The Kiwi Speaks! Fifteen Minutes  of Fame (almost), which was discussed in a prior blog entry that you may refer to by clicking here, and is now available for viewing on Vimeo by clicking here, one of the "partners" of her Actinida kolomikta and Actimida (Kiwi Vines), was the narrator. I must confess I was a little jealous of that vine until I was reassured —  in the aforementioned blog post that includes the Prodigal Son's brother in the title which once again you may refer to by clicking here).


However, I must say that, even though it is fun to be in a movie trailer, and it is gratifying to be featured in the 'About' section of this blog (upper left hand corner) as well as on Flickr and tumblr, and to be her Gravatar, the butterfly is blocking some of my finest features! This is the reason I am so thankful that my image has been chosen — without the butterfly —  to be the representative on The Last Leaf Gardener's just released Facebook (FB) Page, where you will see a photograph of me without the butterfly. You may view it by clicking here  which will lead you to the full FB page, and I have posted a "copy" of the FB image below:

Pretty cool, huh? But I gotta say getting Youngquist to bite the Facebook (FB) bullet wasn't easy, and I'll tell you what convinced her to try FB: As you undoubtedly know, dear reader, my gardener, AKA the main author of this blog, is a big fan of Dagwood Bumstead (the "cartoon" character associated with the comic strip, Blondie). Her appreciation for this character is evidenced by a couple of her prior posts which you may refer to by clicking here as well as here. However, one of Dagwood's recent scenarios (regarding FB) is posted below:

It was Youngquist's realizing, that since even Dagwood Bumstead weighs in on FB, coupled with the things (such as me the Coppertina flower) which grow in her terrace garden convincing her that she should give us FB time, that The Leaf Gardener join the "FB" community!


And believe it or not, Youngquist, a "renaissance soul" is now finally a step ahead of Dagwood Bumstead, because she also set up a Twitter account! The address for it is: @THELLGARDENERNEWYORK and you may visit it by clicking here. I am happy to say that Youngquist also used my FB picture on Twitter! Her twitter slogan is, "Giving voice to what grows in a garden," and I would like to think that I was the inspiration for the slogan as a result of the post I wrote on Cinco de Mayo which I mentioned earlier in this entry however, for your convenience, I have posted another link to that post right here.


But, if truth be told, giving voice to the things which grow in Youngquist's urban garden has always been the norm. As the matter of fact, even the pumpkins, which were only here in the garden for the Halloween season, were impressed with how we express ourselves, and their thoughts were featured in this past Saturday's blog entry, which you may refer to it by clicking here.


Snippets of what this past Saturday's entry pointed out is that the things — such as myself, the Coppertina flower — which are grown in this terrace garden feeling the freedom to express ourselves, "all started in April of 2010, when [this] blog was only a little over four months old, and one of the beautiful flowers from [Youngquist's] Paeonia suffruiticosa (Tree Peony), posted a photograph of herself with a short narrative. (If you would like to refer to this, please click here.)"

"Meanwhile," last Saturday's post also pointed out that Youngquist's, "Helichrysum bracteatum (Strawflowers), has also "penned" (or shall I say "key-boarded"?) her thoughts too in a blog post which may be found by clicking here, while [Youngquist's] Penniestum setaceum (Purple Fountain Grass), on behalf of herself and [Youngquist's] Acer palmatum, posted a letter requesting assistance, so that an image of them taken by [Youngquist] could be rendered in a manner that it, too, could be used for one of the greeting cards, invitations or event program covers that [Youngquist designs, produces, and sells] within the Card Shoppe Pages (which you can view by clicking here) of [her] web-site, Patricia Youngquist Photo-Art."

I am just a Coppertina flower, so I don't know for certain, but I suspect, that it was this past Saturday's posting (and there is much more to it besides the snippets which I've included here) that made Youngquist realize just how prolific the things which grow in her terrace garden are, and that is another reason she may have decided to set up both Facebook and Twitter and give us more opportunity to share our view points and thoughts!

I do hope she keeps me as her profile picture! Therefore, if you agree with me that this is a cool opportunity for me, and that the things which she grows in her terrace garden were right to convince her to go the FB and Twitter route, please let Youngquist know in the "comments field" of this blog, or go over to her FB page and give it a "like", because if you do either or both of these things, then she'll keep me in the profile picture! 


P.S. If you are new to posting comments on a blog, you may click here for directions.

WEDNESDAY'S WISDOM: "If cats could talk, they probably wouldn't ."

Halloween is a mere six days away (including today) and while it is a favorite time of humans, "who excitedly plan their costumes of spooks, vampires and monsters, in anticipation of (it), cats, particularly black cats, have little cause for celebration this month,", says Franny Syufy (in her article, October: Black Cat Month: The Perils of Halloween, which you may read in full by clicking here).  

If indeed the fate of some black cats  on Halloween is as bleak the aforementioned article indicates, this may explain why the painted cat rock in the upper-right hand corner has such a pensive expression on his face. It seems one never knows what is going on in the minds of cats.


My friends who have cats seem to be in agreement with a quote that claims, "If cats could talk they probably wouldn't, " which is attributed to Nan Porter (whose identity remains a mystery even to the most powerful Google Search Engine).



Not being a cat owner yet hearing a cat in heat yelling across my court-yard causes me to be unsure of the total truth of Porter's sentiment. Perhaps, cats do speak, but folks may not be listening. Be that as it may, it is very sad to think that there are people out there who would use Halloween — or any other occasion for that matter — as an excuse to torture black cats — or any living thing. However, since it is true that cats are not able to verbalize, they are unable to get the word out there that they need protection. It is a blessing that there are people who will speak for the felines, protecting their lives, and trying to prevent cruelty from being bestowed on them — whether it be as a Halloween prank or otherwise.


That being said, there are many more people who appreciate cats than there are those who torment them. The successful Broadway musical, Cats, based on Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats by T.S. Eliot, (an author who I have referred to in previous posts which you may refer to by clicking here as well as here and here). Eliot's literary work regarding cats is just one example of how much cats are appreciated in the arts, and as a matter of fact, an image of the eyes of a black cat adorn the cover of the CD recording of this musical.

Additionally, another person (an artist) expressing  her appreciation of cats by "using" them in art work is Phyllis, the artist who creates portraits of cats on rocks (and who I have referred to in my pervious blog entries which you may find by clicking here as well as here and here and here). She has recently designed some especially unique black ones, as evidenced by the images accompanying today's blog entry. The eyes of the cat rock to the immediate left remind me of the cat's eyes featured on the aforementioned CD cover (as seen below in the Wiki Image associated with a link you can access here).

Helen has Phyllis's new (black-cat) painted cat rocks at her "vending station", and as always she is featuring them with an array of other painted cat rocks (all by Phyllis). In addition to the painted rocks, Helen's other unique gift items include journals and photograph albums that are made of natural materials — a fact that I have described in a previous post which you may re-read by clicking here. 


Furthermore, I have produced mini-movies (Virtual Stories) that are based on Phyllis and Helen's novelties. These are currently available for viewing in my Vimeo Library and the specific links to the aforementioned films may be found by clicking here and here. If, dear reader, you happen to be an artist, a vendor, or a shopkeeper and are looking for a way to promote your "products", I would love to discuss producing a virtual story for you that would promote your endeavors in a personal manner. Should this be of interest to you, please feel free to leave me a few details in the "comments field" below this blog post, or if you prefer, you may send me an e-mail by clicking here.  


Additionally, my Virtual Stories, are not limited to showcasing gift items. As of this blog entry, I have sixteen Virtual Stories in my Vimeo Library,which include a garden-themed movie called The Kiwi Speaks! Fifteen Minutes of Fame (almost), that I have blogged about in a previous post, which includes a trailer and you may refer to it by clicking here. Moreover, my Vimeo Library also includes The Miracle on 71st Street. This Virtual Story is also discussed in a prior blog entry and if you'd like to refer to this, please click here.

Another Virtual Story included in my Vimeo Library is a fun-loving movie dedicated to Apple's trainers (this was blogged about in a post which you may read about by clicking here), and there is a touching Virtual Story (memorial) that was produced for a friend who lost her friend to AIDS. I plan to blog about this in November, as it is the month dedicated to all souls.


I encourage you to follow this blog for details on my Virtual Stories; and invite you to view and download the "calling card" which I am using to promote them. It may be found by clicking here, and if you are interested in having me produce one for you for a memorial, wedding, tribute, or any occasion, please leave me a few details on the "comments field" below this blog entry, or, if you prefer, you may send me an e-mail regarding this by clicking here.

Meanwhile, the link to see my other Virtual Stories that are not mentioned in this blog entry may be found by clicking here, and if you need one within the formats that these have been produced, either post your request in the "comments field" below this blog entry or send me an e-mail by clicking here.

That's it for today, dear reader, except to remind you how good it makes someone feel when you reach out to them, and how good it feels to you when you do this for someone near and dear to you. Even Phyllis's painted cat rocks are aware of this as evidenced by the little brown one who has joined the soulful looking block one who appeared alone at the top of todays blog entry. One way we can reach out to others is by sending greeting cards and Helen is currently selling my Halloween greeting cards as "singles" —  they are only in boxed sets on the Card Shoppe Pages of my web-site, Patricia Youngquist Photo-Art. If you'd like to see what they look like before heading over to Helen's,  click here for a direct link to where they are posted on the  Card Shoppe Pages.


P.S. If you are interested in getting any of my cards as "singles" or any of the painted rocks  as well as any of Helen's gift items, please click here for her vending location and her contact information. If you decide to e-mail her, please indicate that you read about her endeavors on this blog in the subject line of your email. AND if you would like to contact me about my producing a virtual story for you, and prefer to leave your questions or concerns in a "comment" as opposed to sending me an e-mail, but  are new to posting things in a "comments field", you may click here for directions.

Monday Morning Musings #3: MEOW!! MEOW!! Painted Cat Rock Reacts to Charlie Brown's FAMOUS "I got a rock" Lament!

Hello! Please allow me to introduce myself, I am one of the new painted rocks created by Phyllis and represented by Helen (at Gifts by Helen).  




Last November, one of my "comrade" rocks made her media debut on this blog, The Last Leaf Gardener, when it was allowed to come into Blogger and let readers know that the world as the novelty Pet Rocks were once known has changed! If you'd like to refer to that blog post, please click here.  


This particular painted-rock-spokesperson received such notoriety from her November 2010 blog post that a priest's cat, (named Ignatius), noticed it, and he implored the priest to have a custom rock made for him!
The result was that Phyllis (the painted rock artist) created an image in his likeness —  if you know what I mean — and that too made news on this very blog. If you want to refer to that post, please click here.


Well, word got around in the painted rock community (which Phyllis has solely designed) that this rock, the one known as Ignatius, pulled some strings, and another painted rock not only "booked" a gig to author a post this past February, but this little rock (who is pink might I add) arranged it so she could be a star in a movie that Patricia Youngquist AKA your blogger at The Last Leaf Gardener produced titled, The Confessions of a Pink Panther Wannabe. I didn't realize Youngquist could create and produce mini-movies! If you'd like to read the post that Ms. Pink Painted Cat Rock made describing the movie, please click here.  AND, if you'd like to see The Confessions of a Pink Panther Wannabe, it is on Vimeo and you may also access it by clicking here.


If you do visit Youngquist's Vimeo Library, you will notice that, as of today's blog post, there are sixteen mini-movies, but I understand that Youngquist is now calling them Virtual Stories, because each of her movies, like each of her blog posts, does tell a story. I won't describe them all in this blog post because if I keep to the point maybe she will cast me in a sequel to The Confessions of a Pink Panther Wannabe! I will tell you that her Vimeo Library includes a garden themed movie called The Kiwi Speaks! Fifteen Minutes of Fame (almost), which she has written about in a prior blog post (that includes a trailer of the movie) you may read by clicking here.


Her Vimeo Library also includes a Virtual Story that she produced when a young married couple traveled from Japan to New York City to renew their wedding vows on a day when New York City experienced a huge snow storm. Hence its title, The Miracle on 71st Street. This movie is also discussed in a prior blog entry that Youngquist made here on this very blog, and it also includes a trailer. If you'd like to refer to this, please click here.


As I said, there are other Virtual Stories in Youngquist's Vimeo Library, including a fun-loving movie dedicated to Apple's trainers (this was blogged about in a post which you may read about by clicking here), and there is a touching Virtual Story (memorial) that was produced for a friend who lost her friend to AIDS. Youngquist plans to blog about this in November, as it is the month dedicated to all souls. I encourage you to follow this blog for details on Youngquist's Virtual Stories; the "calling card" she is using to promote them may be found by clicking here. 


As I review what I've said about Youngquist's Virtual Stories, I must admit I make a good spokes-cat. Maybe if you leave a positive review of me in her comments field she will consider casting me if indeed she produces a sequel to The Confessions of a Pink Panther Wannabe.


Meanwhile, with Halloween just one week away, I must say I never understood why Charlie Brown (the comic strip character created by Charles Schultz) kept bemoaning that he "only got a rock" – just think if he had taken them to Phyllis what she could've created from them! Never mind, I love Charlie Brown, and it would not seem like Halloween without him, so, in accordance with my role as spokes-cat for today, I leave you to enjoy, the following You Tube Video, Charlie Brown: I got a rock. 




OH AND BTW, if you need to refer to last year's blog post delineating the facts about our representative Helen from Gifts by Helen, please click here. AND if you have not purchased any Halloween cards, Helen is offering  (at her New York City UWS location) Youngquist's unique selections for this holiday in singles! These cards are normally only available in boxed-sets via the Card Shoppe Pages of the web-site Patricia Youngquist Photo Art. If you'd like to see what Youngquist's Halloween cards look like, the link to the location of them within the  Card Shoppe Pages can be found by clicking here.


AS always, I  know Youngquist appreciates it when you weigh in with your thoughts, ideas and reactions. If you are new to posting this type of thing, you may click here for directions. Feel free to (ahem) suggest that she cast me in any sequels to The Confessions of a Pink Panther Wannabe. I work well with others, as evidenced by the image posted below of me — I'm in the lower left-hand corner —  with my rockin' friends:

P.S. If you are interested in any of us painted rocks or any of Helen's gift items, please click here for her location as well as for her contact information. If you decide to e-mail her, please indicate that you read about her endeavors on this blog in the subject line of your email.

"Gaze up at the stars knowing that I see the same sky and wish the same sweet dreams." — Elizabeth Barrett Browning

September is passing quickly. Labor Day, the "unofficial" end of summer, and a day, among other things signifying the time that one is "supposed to stop wearing white" (until Memorial Day of the following year as I discussed in a previous post which you may refer to by clicking here) was ten days ago.

In the Northern Hemisphere, the Autumn Equinox will take place next week on Friday, September 23rd 2011 at 4:05 in the morning, and even though the Autumn Equinox (marking the "official" end of summer) is eight days away, the sun is already rising later now, and nightfall comes upon us sooner and sooner with each passing day. It is a time in many gardens — urban (like that of yours truly) and otherwise — in which many things are past their grandeur, but, in spite of this, an impressive, twining vine with a sensuous scent is in its glory, and its splendor is truly a signal that summer is passing, and that Autumn is barreling down on us.
That vine is my Autumn Clematis, or Sweet Autumn Clematis (the vine's full name) as I should be calling it since it gets its name from its seductive (and not the least bit over-powering) scent. I should also note that it is "sweet" because of its delicate, small, star-shaped blossoms, which are white (as evidenced in the photograph at the top of today's blog entry).

Since the Sweet Autumn Clematis is a fall blooming vine, it pays no attention to fashion rules by wearing white after Labor Day (as I indicated in the aforementioned blog entry). In fact, it boasts hundreds and hundreds of delicate white flowers, as evidenced in the photographs below,

which were taken yesterday as well as today in my terrace garden, where my Sweet Autumn Clematis is thriving, as it playfully hops on trivets, which were placed on my wall in May of 2010 by Juan V — a fact that was discussed in previous blog entries including ones which you may refer to by clicking here and here; and my Sweet Autumn Clematis is included in my first garden themed movie, The Kiwi Speaks! Fifteen Minutes of Fame . . . almost. This movie was discussed in a blog entry which you may refer to by clicking here, and also, it is now on Vimeo at the following link (please click here).

However, while the "Sweet Autumn Clematis is thriving, as it playfully hops on trivets";  it must be doing so in spite of what could easily be melancholy feelings.  After all, the Sweet Autumn Clematis's entrance is aways synonymous with things in the garden dying back (although, thankfully, in the case of my garden that is not happening yet); and, moreover, since my Sweet Autumn Clematis is a perennial, it  has had to cope with seeing certain annuals pass away knowing they will not return again.

My Ipomocea multifida AKA Cardinal Climber will presumably be one of those passing annuals since its "stats" claim it will not make it through winter (but depending on the harshness of winter, it may stick around for another season). In any event, these vines, the Sweet Autumn Clematis and the Cardinal Climber, at the moment are keeping each other company as they thrive in their respective spots: the Sweet Autumn Clematis doing so on the trivets which Juan V installed, and the Cardinal Climber, doing so on the trellis which Juan V built as evidenced by photographs of the Cardinal Climber which are posted below.

My Cardinal Climber's roots are planted in pots attached to a trellis located in the middle of the west portion of my terrace, while my Sweet Autumn Clematis's roots  make their home in a container in the southeast corner of my terrace garden. The path of my Sweet Autumn Clematis has usually been to travel straight up the trivets on my wall and to head east, while the path of my Cardinal Climber thus far has been to climb up the trellis and to head to both the south and north corners of my garden.

Both yesterday and today, I noticed that a portion of my Cardinal Climber seemed to be heading towards my Sweet Autumn Clematis, as if it wants to say goodbye; and I photographed the Cardinal Climber's fern-like leaves reaching out to the leaves of my Sweet Autumn Clematis (which I've posted below in an image that includes the bulbs from my string lights to give you a sense of scale in imaging the size of both my Cardinal Climber's leaves as well as my Sweet Autumn Clematis's buds and flowers),

as if to say — quoting Elizabeth Barrett Browning — "Gaze up at the stars knowing that I see the same sky and wish the same sweet dreams." 

"My September Baccalaureate": Journey Towards Elegant Lighting

Last week, at this very time, I was preparing for Hurricane Irene, which I discussed in this past Saturday's post, and in the conclusion of that entry, I reported that, in regards to Irene, I'd return to blogging with "hopefully little damage to report". Thankfully, that was the case, as I've already indicated earlier this week. I am very grateful to God — though I don't express it nearly as much as I should. In fact, since I sleep on a foam pad — which is directly atop of my floor, I often don't kneel when I say prayers before going to sleep, although I did (as is the standard) kneel at mass yesterday, with thanksgiving that, in terms of Irene, I was unscathed; especially given the damage which Hurricane Irene did cause for many people, including those who live  on or near the Jersey Shore, a place, where I took the photograph (posted above) in late July, of a shore town's resident's garden fence with the affirmation, God Answers Knee-Mail. Since the place where I took this photograph is very near the ocean, I hope the folks who own the property as well as their surrounding neighbors did not sustain too much damage, but, whatever the case turned out to be, I am fairly certain they relied on their knee-mail to God to see them through the situation.


And speaking of God; are you, dear reader, familiar with the adage, If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans" ?


Well, what has happened, dear reader, is that I've recently discovered this very same  thing that happens with a muse. If you want to amuse your muse, tell him/her what you intend to write about. For as you may recall, dear reader, last Saturday I confessed that I had planed to write about my "journey towards elegant garden lighting", but my preparation for Irene took precedence. I did promise to return to my garden lighting epiphany today, but I admit that (because I have now been writing this entry in my head for over a week) my insights do not seem as poignant as they did last week, and I am tempted to renege on my promise; not out of an unwillingness to fulfill a task — but out of a bit of pride — that I may not sound as prolific in cyberspace as I do in my head, when it comes to the insights which I thought the new lighting system in my urban garden had taught me.
"Sometimes we regret our failure to write about things that really interest us. The reason we fail is probably because to write about them would prove embarrassing. The things that interested us during the past week, for example, and that we were unable or unwilling to write about (things that stand out clear as pictures in our head) were: the look in the eye of a man whose overcoat, with velvet collar was held together by a bit of string; the appearance of an officer after the building had shut down for the night; the obvious futility of the litter; . . . a man on a bicycle on Fifth Avenue; a short eulogy of John James Audubon, who spent his life loafing around, painting birds; an entry in Art Young's diary about a sick farmer who didn't know what was the matter with himself but thought it was biliousness; and the sudden impulse that we had (and very nearly gratified) to upend a large desk for the satisfaction of seeing everything on it slide off slowly on to the floor," is what E.B. White, (an author I have referenced in previous posts which you may find by clicking here and here as well as here, and here), had to say on the subject of the ideas a writer does not commit to the pencil, pen, typewriter, or keyboard. 


However, since I have not upended my desk as of yet, I will return to fulfilling my promise of sharing my journey towards elegant lighting. The lighting in  my garden still looks lovely, as evidenced by the "aerial view", of my terrace garden which Juan V photographed (pictured below), this past Thursday, when he came to see how the new "string lighting" and the things which I grow in my garden had fared during Irene; and as you can see, even after all the high winds, and torrents of rain, brought on with her wrath, my urban garden looks serene. 

In fact, the lighting looks so elegant that I am bit overwhelmed with joy by the ambiance it adds to my terrace garden. Initially, when I first thought about writing about my journey towards elegant lighting, I had thought that I'd be embarrassed about what the lighting situation within my garden had been during its earliest years; and therefore, the theme of my post regarding it would involve coming to terms with the different person I have been over the years.


Since this approach was my intent, I thought it might be helpful to some of my readers who have had difficulty accepting certain past actions that they have committed; or certain decisions they have made; for I had believed that my studying photographs of my garden's early days would spark the personal and professional inadequacies which I felt during that time (and have struggled to overcome) might be akin to how one reportedly feels when looking at photographs of themselves of bygone days when they were too fat, too thin, had bad hair, were with their ex, and on and on and on; or how they feel when reading journal entries they may have written in bygone years.


"Perhaps it is difficult to see the value in having one's self back in that kind of mood, but I do see it; I think we are well advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not.  Otherwise  they turn up unannounced and surprise us, come hammering on the mind's door at 4 A.M. of a bad night and demand to know who deserted them, who betrayed them, who is going to make amends. We forget all too soon the things we thought we could never forget. We forget the loves and the betrayals alike, forget what we whispered and what we screamed, forget who we were. I have already lost touch with a couple of people I used to be; one of them a seventeen year-old, presents little threat . . . the other one, a twenty-three year old, bothers me more. She was always a good deal of trouble, and I suspect she will reappear when I least want to see her, skirts too long, shy to the point of aggravation, always the injured party, full of recriminations and little hurts and stories I do not want to hear again, at once saddening me and angering me with her vulnerability and ignorance, an apparition all the more insistent for being so long banished.


"It is a good idea, then, to keep in touch and I suppose that keeping in touch is what notebooks are all about," Joan Didion writes in her essay, On Keeping a Notebook, and, although I do not keep a notebook, diary, or journal, I do agree with Ms. Didion (a writer I've cited in several posts which you may access by going to the labels menu on my blog, located to the left of all blog entries and selecting Joan Didion), and, in fact, I think that snapshots also have the power to drive one back on to oneself — at least they do for me; which is why I thought that my reviewing them would bring on emotions that have been pushed aside, and allow me to share my journey of lighting within myself as it paralleled the various ways I have lit my garden over the years. 


But, once again, as it did last week, the aforementioned muse laughed when I told it my plans regarding the content of today's blog post; and, as it turns out, it is more of a chronicle of my various urban garden lighting methods without the underlying meanings that may or may not have accompanied them, which I hope that those who appreciate gardens and gardening will enjoy; as for my intended thought to philosophize about the deeper meaning involved, I am resigned to believing that, in this instance, it could very well be that "a spade is just a spade" . 


However, I am sure you will agree that September does bring out the philosopher in folks; the type of philosopher which the American poet Emily Dickinson describes in her poem, September's Baccalaureate which is posted below:

September's Baccalaureate

A combination Of Crickets — Crows — and Retrospects

And a dissembling Breeze

That hints without assuming —

An Innuendo sear

That makes the Heart put up its Fun

And turn Philosopher.

Upon recalling Dickinson's poem, in an effort (Or is it a justification?) to document my outdoor lighting journey, I did go through the photographs that I have of my urban garden. One of the earliest photographs I can find of my garden is from 2002 (seen below) when I'd already been living in my studio apartment with its "attached" outdoor space for nearly nine years, and, when I look at this photograph now, I think my garden looked timid, but then maybe I am projecting how I felt about myself and gardening during those early green thumb years.

Perhaps you recognize the image posted above, dear reader, because I included it in a blog entry titled, I Have NEVER Seen A Billboard Lovely As A Tree, that I posted this past May, when I had taken down the SODAS sign, which had maintained quite a presence in my garden for a number of years, and, in fact, it often "dictated" where my herbs, vines, plants, flowers, shrubs and trees were ultimately placed during its "reign".


In the aforementioned month of May blog entry, I pointed out that looking through past photographs of my urban garden — particularly in its earliest years — often causes me to "feel vulnerable, because they reveal my then lack of talents as a gardener (which have taken a while to develop)", but, because that blog entry, as well as this one, are about the removal of a longstanding object, "and not my own stages as a gardener", I will once again — as I did with the evolution of my SODAS sign — share photographs with you about the evolution of another object that has been in my terrace garden, and that is my outdoor lights. I'll start with the first image that I used when recounting my SODAS sign journey (which is the image above). However, this image is slightly different, in comparison to the image I used this past May, because I have added three arrows to it; in an attempt to illustrate part of what I am discussing today. 


To provide you with a little orientation: My terrace garden is actually a roof extension and it is "enclosed" by a low railing that goes around it. This railing is made up  of three metal "tiers", and when I first moved into my apartment (which I did during the night-time hours) I discovered the former tenant had left a small strand of white "Christmas" lights dangling over one of the "tiers". This turned out to be quite a blessing because, as it happens, there was not one light bulb in the fixtures within the apartment, so I brought the small strand inside and used it for  "regular" light, until I could get to the store to buy bulbs for my fixtures.


Soon after I settled into my new home, upon being inspired by seeing how the former tenant's lights looked outside, I subsequently strung many strands of lights outside — not just a small strand — I put lights around each of the three "tiers" as I wanted to have a look of ivy, and it seems strange now that, at that time, I never thought about having real ivy. My "tiers" of lighting can be seen by looking at the arrows seen in the image above. The purple arrow is pointing towards strands of lights that made their way around the entire first "tier" of my terrace; and the gold arrow is pointing towards lights which made their way around the entire second "tier"; the third "tier" is obscured in this photograph, hence there is no arrow pointing towards it, but their is a third arrow, which is chartreuse-colored, and it is also pointing towards lights that I put in my terrace garden the same day I put lights on all three "tiers" of railing.


Here's a mini-back-story as to what these "other" lights are about: As it happens, another "feature" which came with my terrace is a tall "pole/pipe" situated in the northwest corner of my terrace, and I strung lights up and down that "pole/pipe", which is where the chartreuse-colored arrow is pointing. These particular lights were the kind which can be wrapped around a tree trunk  — as I wanted the illusion of having a tree in my "yard", never thinking, never dreaming even, that one day I'd have seven trees growing in containers; including two larches (a small Japanese Larch AKA Larix Kaempferi and a tall one), 'Tamukeyama' AKA Japanese Red Maple, an  Acer palmatum AKA 'Shisitatsu' Sawa, an Acer shirasawanum AKA Autumn Moon, a Fagus sylvatica AKA Beech Tree, and a Physocarpus opulifolius AKA Coppertina; which are all thriving.

However, growing these trees was a long process, and in my early years as a gardener, long before I grew the trees which I have now, I lost a Spruce Tree to the scorching sun. (I subsequently lost another tree last year (a lovely Karamatsu) to grubs, which is a fact that you may recall from a previous blog entry, that I wrote last September the Fourth — almost a year ago today!)


Losing the Spruce was traumatic, because, at the time, it was the only tree which I had in my garden as seen in the photograph below:

This image is drastically different from my garden today, but it is part of my growth as a gardener. The orange arrow is pointing to the Spruce; my only tree at the time; the leaves from a tree that you can see in the upper right hand corner are from the pesky Ailanthus Trees, which many folks on my block (and all over New York City) have in their yards. The black arrow is pointing at a Silver Mound plant, an annual I had in my terrace garden for a number of years, mostly because of its tactile feature (very soft and fuzzy to the touch) and, while it was interesting to have, it tended to get leggy and take over my garden space, so for the past six years I have not included it in the landscape of my garden. 


The purple arrow with tips on either side of it is pointing to the lights that were on the three "tiers" surrounding my terrace. Lastly, the red arrows are pointing to my "pole/pipe" with the lights strewn around it. The "pole/pipe" became my quasi-tree in my early garden years, and various vines, which were planted in containers at the "pole/pipe's" base, enjoyed hopping on it, and they ultimately trailed up it, as seen in one of my early endeavors as a gardener in the images posted below. (These images were taken by Patricia Rosa who I have referred to in prior blog entries which can be accessed by clicking here and here as well as here.)

The little white flowers, that can be seen in the containers at the base of this flourishing Morning Glory Vine; are Asylum flowers, which were a delight to me in my early years; but now that I have very few annuals in my garden, I no longer include them in my "landscape". In any event, Patricia Rosa's photographs depict a very different garden than the one I have today, and BTW, if you look at the three white "tiers" of my railing in her photographs, you will see that they all have strands and strands of lights.


As for the vine that took over the "pole/pipe" in Ms. Rosa's images; it is a Morning Glory, a vine, which I have not had for many years since I made the switch to perennial Clematis Vines which can be seen in various stages of growth where the orange arrows are pointing in the image below. The black arrow is pointing to my beloved Karamatsu, the tree that I just mentioned, who lost its life to grubs last September.

I have referred to my replacing Morning Glory Vines with Clematis in a previous post which you may refer to by clicking here. My first Clematis and the "pole/pipe" lighting can also be seen in the following image with the short-lived Spruce in the back to the left.

This particular Clematis, has been featured in my line of invitations that preserve a moment in time, my event program covers which enhance any occasion, and my greeting cards that are about more than communication. All of these are available in the store-front pages of my web-site, Patricia Youngquist Photo Art, as well as in a downloadable brochure which you may access by clicking here.


However, the following season I had to replace my white Clematis with H.F. Young Clematis, a vine, which has flourished every year; as evidenced by the photograph below (a variation of this image was included with an informative narrative in a previous blog entry that you may access by clicking here).

I confess it was this H.F. Young's month of May birthing of dozens and dozens of the H.F. Young Flowers that prompted me to begin to regret having lights around my "pole/pipe"  — for I felt the cords and the plugs were interfering with the esthetics of my  H.F. Clematis Vine, (even though you can barely see them here) especially since I like to photograph this vine long after the flower's gone as evidenced by the image below.

The ability to get a nice image of what grows up my "pole/pipe" without a light bulb, cord or plug "mugging" the shot has not been easy, and this factored into my decision to remove the lights from the "pole/pipe". 


The railing lights had been the first group of lights that I took down, an endeavor you my recall from this past December, when I blogged about my taking down lights at a time when people were putting them up for the holiday season. You may remember, dear reader, that I stated that I had decided to do this because I felt the wires and cords of the lights were interfering with the branches of my lovely Actinida kolomikta and Actimida (Kiwi Vines) which you might surmise from the photographs below that you may remember from having seen them in a November 2010 blog entry.

I know that my Actinida kolomikta and Actimida (Kiwi Vines) appreciated the "breathing room" allotted to them (once I took down the railing lights in December of 2010) because one of the Kiwi Vines, the Actinida kolomikta, made reference to it when he was featured as the narrator in my first garden-themed movie, The Kiwi Speaks! Fifteen Minutes of Fame . . . almost, which is now on Vimeo and you may refer to this link for details. 


However, even though I removed the railing lights last December, it has taken me until last week to remove the ones from my "pole/pipe", and those lights, like the SODAS signs were once a key player within the objects I have in my terrace garden; as evidenced by a photograph that Donna De Solis took this past December, a few days after I had wrapped all my herbs, vines, plants, flowers, trees and shrubs for the winter. This photograph was featured in a blog entry at that time, but since I am referring to the "pole/pipe" in this instance, I thought it appropriate to include this photograph even though it's been seen by many of you.

In the case of De Solis's image, the "pole/pipe" lights are not interfering with any flowers from any vines, because it was December, and things had gone to sleep until spring; but while it may look festive at night, during the day, cords wrapped around the pole with un-lit bulbs were far from festive and, in fact, they often drew attention to the temporarily dried up vines.


Another item featured in De Solis's image depicts how I used lighting for specific Christmas decor. In the top right hand corner of her photograph there is a star which, in the image, may appear as if it is at the top of my Larch Tree, but in fact these lights are wrapped around a bamboo pole which, during winter-time, I use to give my Larch support against winter elements. The star is attached to the top of the pole, providing an illusion that it is affixed to my Larch, which is actually too tender to take the weight of this type of decoration.


As for the lights seen in front of the "pole/pipe" on the left hand side of this image, they are actually mixed within a wreath that is sitting on a table-top turned plant stand, which had been used to "house" the container for my Fagus sylvatica (Beech Tree), and when it was performing this function t looked like this (see photo-collage posted below):

It was (and still is) a great use of the table-top, but when I winterized my herbs, vines, flowers, plants, shrubs, and trees last December, they were all moved to the southern portion of my terrace, which in the case of my Fagus sylvatica (Beech Tree), meant that I had an empty stand.


The empty stand looked all right, but in an attempt to give my H.F. Clematis "company" (since the stand is so close to the poles where the H.f. Young Clematis attached itself) during winter-time since it was one of three things which could not be moved, I placed a Christmas wreath with lights atop of the stand. These are the lights I referred to in the previous paragraph. The following image of the wreath used in this manner was also featured within in a  blog post on December the 15th 2010.

Once the 2010 winter had finally passed, and my wreath was discarded so that my Fagus sylvatica could move back into his digs, the wreath's lights were kept, and put on the rim of my Fagus sylvatica's stand (as evidenced in the photographs which were taken during different seasons in 2010 and are posted below).

The lights around the rim of the table-top-turned-tree-stand are the only lights  still remaining in my garden from previous lighting endeavors, and I have yet to make my "executive decision": if these lights will remain there now that I have the string lights hanging above my garden. Juan V thinks they looked nice when my Christmas wreath was there, and I do admit, having special lights in my garden for the holidays creates a festive mood, as seen in the five photographs below, depicting my prior use of Halloween lighting in my garden.

Because holiday lights are so festive, "the jury" (the things I grow in my terrace garden) is still out on whether or not I will incorporate them this year. 


One of my perennial vines, the Autumn Clematis AKA Donna the Grower's Legacy , can be seen in the fourth picture of these five photographs (taken in October of 2010) climbing on a wooden lattice before heading up to the trivets which Juan V placed on the wall in May of 2010. It is hard to see it (the Autumn Clematis) in the fifth photograph; in this instance, it's the lighting that I wanted you to see. 


The Autumn Clematis blooms in the autumn, hence its name, Autumn Clematis. Since the Autumn Clematis is the one who lives 24/7 with any lighting system which I install (especially because, for the most part, it faces my "pole/pipe"), it will be one of the key players in weighing in on any future decisions regarding my terrace garden's lighting; and, dear reader, you are welcome to weigh in as well by posting a comment.

Meanwhile, my Autumn Clematis is ready to burst with its white flowers (as evidenced in the photographs of it posted below, including one with a rose to give you a sense of the size of the bulbs in the string lighting) as it anticipates the view it will have within the string lighting of my garden.