Gardening on a shoestring

Ferns beside a bird bath

Gardening season is in full bloom, the time of year when seasoned gardeners and weekend warriors spend hours turning over soil, adding manure and mulch to patches of brown dirt, and combing local garden centres to find delicate flowers to create the perfect garden oasis.

Last week, we popped over to a friend’s house because they wanted some advice on how to spruce up the gardens at the front of the house to maximize their curb appeal before they put up their house for sale this summer. They didn’t want to spend a lot of money, which made me start thinking creatively about how you can create a beautiful, welcoming space without draining your pocketbook. Here are some tips for gardening on a shoestring.

  • Divide and conquer: if you have perennials, see what plants can be divided. Hostas, lilies, irises all thrive when split. If you don’t have perennials, see if any friends will give you some.
  • Go wild: look for ferns and wild phlox on the side of roadways or laneways. Just make sure you are not digging up plants on private property without permission (and watch for poison ivy!)
  • Use nature’s bounty: Go beachcombing and find a unique piece of driftwood to add interest to your garden.
  • Make it artful: Look for unique or interesting pieces that could be used for planters or to add a whimsical element to your garden, like old boots, bicycles, watering cans, etc.
  • Sow some seed: Scatter a pack of zinnia or wildflower seeds, an inexpensive way to create colour in a larger space.
  • Buy local—many fundraising groups hold plant sales this time of year to raise money—not only will you save money, you’ll be helping a good cause.
  • Come from good stock: If you are buying annuals from a gardening centre, make sure they are good stock and see if they can be split. The begonias I bought at my local gardening centre had two large blooms in a single pot, so I was able to split them, doubling my money.

I was always find this particular time of year a little sparse in my garden, after the spring bulbs have died off and before the roses, peonies, and irises bloom, but here are some pics from my garden this morning. Happy gardening!

watering can

Above: the ferns around this old birdbath we inherited were all dug up by the side of the road. In this photo, an old watering can adds colour to the pot by my front porch.

begonias lobelia and impatiens in a pot

The begonias I got from Sheila’s Greenhouses in Moscow were so big with two distinct plants in each pot, I was able to split them for my pots on the back deck.

garden flag and chicken sculpture

Dave and the girls tease me all the time about my garden tchotchke. This hummingbird flag greets visitors and the chicken we bought at a cool art studio in Brewerton, New York years ago.

Ferns, hostas and geraniums

More ferns from the roadsides, hostas which we’ve split over the years and perennial geraniums in bloom. I can’t even remember where we got the white cross statue.

The soft shades of spring–a photo essay

new leafy growth on a birch tree stump

They say Ireland has 40 shades of green, but in spring, South Frontenac has 50 shades of green.

Even though spring isn’t my favourite season, I love the softness of this time of year. Tiny wispy yellow-green buds burst forth from the end of tree branches, delicate feathery ferns claw through the dull brown undergrowth, lush dark green grasses appear in clumps in the fields and meadows, and the forest canopy is a kaleidoscope of different shades of green.

When we drive down to the Carolinas each year in late March or April, one of the things I love most is watching the trees change as we go from our cold, grey bleak Canadian landscape to spring within a day’s drive. It’s as if the changing of the seasons is on steroids or fast forward.

In southern Pennsylvania, we get a peek at the first signs of spring, then if we’re lucky, in Maryland, we are treated to the sight of apple blossoms in full bloom with a hint of leaves emerging from their bursting branches. By the time we get to Virginia, we roll the windows down and let the warmth of the sun wash over us as we travel past trees in full foliage.

Here are some pictures I took on my property of the fifty shades of green. The lilacs in our area are just starting to bloom–a perfect day trip.  Happy spring!

treeline beside a field
tulip with green tips and leaves
Lily of the Valley
white birch bark against green grass
white and yellow flowers in the undergrowth
feathery ferns in the undergrowth
crab apple tree leaves and blooms
maple leaves on a tree overlooking a lake
apple blossoms in full bloom

This last photo was taken at a rest stop in Maryland on our last trip to South Carolina. The apple blossoms were in full bloom.

The Lost Sun: The solar eclipse on a backcountry spring canoe trip to Frontenac Park

I’m always shocked by how many people in the Kingston region have never been to Frontenac Provincial Park.

Located less than an hour north of Kingston, Frontenac is classified as a semi-wilderness park with more than 160 kms of trails and several canoe routes through the stunning rugged backdrop of the Frontenac Arch Biosphere.

Popular youtube vlogger Canoe the North recently chose Frontenac Provincial Park to explore for his first backcountry canoe trip of the season and to film the April 8th solar eclipse.

The first twenty minutes captures the essence of Frontenac Park: its breathtaking scenery even in early spring with amazing drone footage (one of my favourite shots is the stars twinkling in the night sky), the wildlife, stillness and calm of this special place. The last 10 minutes includes stunning footage of the total solar eclipse.

If it was cloudy in your area and you missed the eclipse, or you just want to see why I love this region so much, you have to watch this video. Enjoy!

Preparing for the apoco-eclipse

total eclipse graphic

Get ready, the apoco-eclipse is coming Monday, April 8. Here in southeastern Ontario, we are in the

….PAAAATH…..OOOFFF…..TOTALITY (said with a low booming echoing voice for maximum effect.)

For a whopping three minutes, the moon will pass in front of the sun and the earth will be in total darkness during the middle of the day, from 3:22 to 3:25 pm to be exact in South Frontenac.

From all the warnings and hype about massive traffic snarls and millions of visitors expected in the region, you’d think the world is coming to an end. My retinas are already burning from reading all the warnings about not looking at the sun directly and how to view the eclipse safely.

Granted this is a once-in-a-lifetime event. The last total eclipse in North America was in 2017 over the northwest US, but back then the eclipse’s path just 71 miles wide, compared to 122 miles AND the total time the moon completely covered the sun was just 2 minutes, 40 seconds compared to over 3 or four minutes this time depending on where you live.

I wasn’t sure just how big a deal this was, so I decided to ask an expert, my old high school buddy Brad Gibson, Professor and Director of the E.A. Milne Centre for Astrophysics at the University of Hull in England. Brad does presentations and TedTalks on subjects like will we ever live on Mars, the top 10 coolest things about outer space and are we alone in the universe?

Being the cool astrophysicist dude he is, Brad confirmed that “a total solar eclipse is always a blast”. He said they aren’t all that rare if you look at planet Earth as a whole since once every 18 months there is a total solar eclipse somewhere on the planet. In any given city, it’s more rare, like once every 300 years. I asked Brad what he’ll see in the UK and he said they’ll see a partial eclipse with about one-third of the sun blocked.

I also didn’t know that some weird and wonderful things can happen during an eclipse too. Animals can get confused thinking it’s nighttime, radio waves have been known to become scrambled, and seconds before totality, you may see shadow bands, or wavy strips of light and dark dancing on the ground like water at the bottom of a swimming pool. 

During the time of total darkness, you may also see the stars and planets, especially Venus and Mars. Now that’s cool.

Personally, I’m more of a northern lights, super moon, meteor shower kind of gal. The nighttime celestial shows outshine any daytime event, even the apoco-eclipse, throwing it into the shade.

This week’s #HappyAct is to get your ISO-certified eclipse glasses and get ready to enjoy the spectacle on April 8. And for those nighttime celestial lovers out there, they say tonight’s a good night to see the northern lights.

Overcoming the anxiety that comes with age

trees at night time

I’ve been a bit more nervous walking at night lately. It’s the strangest feeling and new to me since I’ve always been very comfortable walking at night.

I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because the coyotes have been very active, with their eerie howls cutting through the stillness of winter nights from across the lake.

For whatever reason, for the first few minutes walking, I’ve felt anxious so I’ve started taking my phone with me. At least this way if I slip and fall and break my other ankle, or the coyotes attack me, they’ll be able to call Dave and let him know where to find my carcass.

As we age, it is only natural to become more tentative and anxious. A few years ago, I had lunch with an elderly friend, and they confessed that for the first time in their life, they were stricken with anxiety. They had confided to their minister, and found talking about it helped, but it was uncharted territory for them and you could tell it had thrown them for a loop.

I’ve never been a worrier—I’ve always considered it a blessing that if Dave was late when the weather was bad or my kids were out god knows where, I never worried about them. But as I age, anxiety is slowly creeping into my psyche bit by bit. I find I need to make a conscious effort to fight through it using deep breathing techniques, telling myself not to worry, and redirecting my thoughts. 

Back to my nightly walks…on the nights when I do feel a bit anxious, I power walk through it. With each step, the tiny morsels of fear in my brain recede, and I embrace and revel in the beauty of the night, the magnificent stars in the sky, and the black silhouettes of the pine trees illuminated by the soft glow of the moon.

I stop and listen for sounds of the woods. There is stillness all around me. I hear an owl swooping up into the trees. His mate hoots in the distance. I am calm and the feeling of anxiety has passed.

Now if the coyotes would just stop howling…

Reflections

My reflection in Reflections sculpture

Reflections of
Who I am
Who I want to be
Personified in
Perfect symmetry

Lines blur and blend
Bending to my will
Distorting where reality ends
And make-believe begins

I drift in and out
Amongst the reeds and the trees
My memories floating
Dancing on the surface

Reliving the past
Without absorbing
What might have been
What still could be

Filling an aching void
Always reproachful
Always critical
A bright light
Thrown back from the surface

If only we could change
To reflect a better version of ourselves
A flawless mirror
Illuminating the beauty
And light within our soul

Ed. note: The idea for this poem came to me after spending time looking at the beautiful reflections of the trees on the water on my lake. At first, it was going to be a photo essay, but it morphed into a poem after I visited a sculpture called “Reflections“ last weekend in a park in Pickering. The sculpture was erected in memory of those who lost their lives to COVID. Here was the description:

Amongst the panels sits a solitary void to the open sky. The mirrors encourage us to see ourselves from different perspectives and contemplate the personal and collective experience of self-reflection and solitude. The missing mirror examines themes of loss and grief, representing those we lost to COVID-19. Every day as the sun crosses behind the sculpture, the bright spot created by the void cuts through the shadow as it swings across the ground. This light is a reminder that although our loved ones may be gone, they are not forgotten and will continue to be present in our daily lives, drifting in and out, both in influence and memory.”

trees reflecting in lake
rock reflecting in lake
reeds reflecting in lake
red tree reflecting in water
trees reflecting in lake

Be on the lookout for fall colours

Red maple leaf and fall colours

I went to bed the other night dreaming of red and orange mosaics. It was as if the brilliant fall colours we’d seen on the weekend had been imprinted on my mind, like a patchwork quilt, lulling me to sleep.

I can’t remember a year where the colours have been so brilliant or the weather so spectacular, but this is the first year we also ventured further afar, seeking scenic lookouts.

Our first scenic lookout was the Eagle’s Nest in Bancroft, Ontario. Located on Highway 62 on the north end of town, this popular vantage point is known for its spectacular views of the Madawaska Highlands and for spotting eagles. In the winter, you can sometimes see adventure seekers ice climbing the rock face. Grace, Dave and I walked the easy trail to the lookout. The sun wasn’t out yet, but the view was still incredible—dappled greens, yellows and entire swaths of red and orange.

Scenic view of fall colours

Views from the Eagle’s Nest in Bancroft

Our next lookout was Skyline Park in Haliburton. By the time we arrived, the sun had broken through the clouds, illuminating the reddish and orange hues surrounding beautiful Head Lake.

View from Skyline Park
colourful trees beside a lake
scenic view from lookout

Views from Skyline Park in Haliburton

On Sunday, we hiked the Lookout Trail in Algonquin Park, just off the Highway 60 corridor. This 2 km loop meanders through old hardwood forest until it reaches the summit, with drop-dead gorgeous views west over the park. It was a perfect morning and we sat watching the colours unfurl with each ray of sunshine.

Three spectacular lookouts with three spectacular views. I think the mosaics will be forever emblazoned in my mind.

This week’s #HappyAct is to find a lookout in your region and enjoy a bird’s eye view of the magnificent fall we’re having. Here are some more great lookouts in eastern Ontario:

algonquin park in fall
scenic lookout and fall colours in Algonquin Park
colourful trees on a trail
Author and her husband at the summit

What’s your happy state?

Bentley wet and bedraggled at the lake

They say people resemble their dogs. This is definitely true for Bentley and me. During the summer months, we know it’s been a good day if we’re wet and bedraggled.

Bentley of course, wears the look much better than me. After a day of swimming at the lake, his gorgeous russet brown fur glistens in the sunshine, making swirly patterns on his back.

I’m more on the bedraggled side, but I come by this look naturally. I have fond memories of my Mom, wet and bedraggled after a day at the beach at Lake Simcoe.

She’s been gone almost 40 years now, but I can still picture her walking back from the beach, in beat up old running shoes filled with sand, her short brown hair tousled with a few strands falling across her face. She wore an old one-piece bathing suit with a towel draped around her neck with a big smile on her face. We were always happy up at that old beach cottage.

I think about my Mom as I trudge up our wooded path from the lake, my feet squishing in my crocs feeling clean and refreshed. I’m in my happy state, wet and bedraggled.

What’s your happy state?

Author at the lake with a towel draped around her neck

Watch the world go by

boy on beach

My mother-in-law once said the biggest change she had seen in her lifetime was no one just sits anymore.

On my last sunny beach day in South Carolina a few weeks ago, I just sat on the beach and watched the world go by.

There were families who lugged their beach carts to the same spot they had the day before, filled to the brim with plastic sand shovels, coolers, colourful beach chairs and umbrellas. Before the adults could set up even one chair, the kids would grab the beach toys and run with glee towards the water and furiously start digging in the sand.

There were surf fisherman who sat close to shore, the water lapping up on their toes as their lines bounced in the white-flecked waves.

There were lots and lots of dogs, since it was a pet friendly beach. German shepherds, labs, a grizzled old golden retriever that lay beside its owners in a small patch of shade beside their chair, and breeds I never even knew existed like the German Elo (who was named Murphy, by the way, just like our old dog Murph).

There were osprey soaring in the brilliant blue skies, splashing into the surf to catch their lunch, then lifting slowly and wobbily, a fresh catch in their talons. There were pelican armies flying in formation patrolling the picturesque shoreline, and gulls, terns and sandpipers tiptoeing in the grainy sands.

And best of all there were dolphins. Spied first far, far out in the ocean. Their fins cresting out of the water in graceful intervals. Then closer to shore, coming near my two teenagers splashing in the waves. I try to yell at them to look, but they just wave back, oblivious of the magnificent creatures sharing the ocean’s expanse.

I couldn’t believe how many dolphins I spied that day. There were multiple pods, some playing in the waves, leaping in the white crests of the surf and blowing and chuffing as they came up for air. They must have known the weather was about to change and decided to enjoy their final day on the beach frolicking in the waves.

Yes, spending a day watching the world go by is a bit of a luxury in today’s world, but I highly recommend it…especially at the beach.

Ed. note: The photos below were all taken in the evening since I didn’t bring my phone to the beach during the day so they don’t capture the images I’ve described above, but I hope you enjoy them anyway.

terns and pipers on beach
deserted beach
Grace and Clare swimming in the ocean at sunset
Woman and her daughter on the beach

Live in the cloud

Stunning orange clouds

In What if your best friend was a bot, we asked Siri what she looked like. She replied, “In the cloud, nobody cares what you look like”.

The height of irony? Maybe. But what a wonderful world it would be.