Fidalgo Island Crossings

         
Siberian Bugloss
The Original Brunnera macrophylla comes from the woodlands of Siberia.  This stunning variety ‘Jack Frost’ literally glows in the mostly shady area west of my garage.  Earlier it bore tiny bright blue flowers that also seemed to glow in the shade.  Eventually it will spread to become a groundcover, filling the spaces between the Fatsias and Acanthi there.  I will have to maintain a vigilant slug and snail patrol for this one.  It’s fortunate this area seems to be relatively free of the little mollusks.  Previously this space was a dry, rocky dead zone where nothing would grow.  The new irrigation system has made it possible to grow some nifty plants here like Brunnera, Acanthus and Fatsia.
     
Wild Mock Orange
What a surprise to discover a beautiful shrub that is also a native.  Philadelphus lewisii is drought tolerant, fragrant and grows in relatively poor soil.  What more could anyone want?  The state flower of Idaho, Wild Mock Orange also has historical links.  It was apparently first described and named by Meriwether Lewis of the Lewis and Clark Expedition.  The variety ‘Blizzard’ will become covered with white, fragrant blooms as it matures.  I am still wondering how I managed to overlook this great native shrub for so long.
     
Sea Holly
I like this odd flower because it looks like something from Star Trek.  With Eryngium ‘Sapphire Blue’ even the leaves will become blue, no doubt resembling specimens from the planet Andoria.  The original Earth plant (E. planum) comes from southeastern Europe and across central Asia.  Star Trek and gardening are two of my favorite things, so I hope these plants will live long and prosper.

On this eve before summer, remember last winter?  These photos of my side yard were taken almost exactly six months apart, December 22nd 2008 and June 20th 2009.  How sad those spruces look under the weight of the snow.  There would be even more snow to come followed by bitter, cold temperatures. 
     
Some would like to use last winter’s weather here as evidence disproving “global warming.”  This reveals confusion about the difference between climate and weather.  Weather is what is happening in a place during a particular moment of time.  Climate refers to weather patterns over long periods of time, decades, centuries and millennia.  What happened here last winter was weather.  Global warming is about climate.  Measure the temperature in my yard at noon every day for ten years and plot it on a graph.  The plot would reveal information about the climate of my yard and how it may be changing.  During a warming period, unusually cold temperatures will be offset by equally uncharacteristic warm days.  We have already seen this trend for two summers.  We’ll see what nature has in store for us again this year.
           
In the summer scene above, pictured from foreground:  Astilbe (A. japonica just starting to bloom in the corner), Rubus rolfei, Rhododendron ‘Scarlet Wonder,’ Western Sword Fern (Polystichum munitum), Japanese Barberry (Berberis thunbergii ‘Crimson Pygmy’), Vine Maple (Acer circinatum), Cranesbill (Geranium ‘Rozanne’), and Serbian Spruce (Picea omorika ‘Bruns’).  Originally, this sloping site consisted of some of the worst ground I have ever seen.  Rocks, sand and clay, the aftermath of ancient glaciations, formed a dense hardpan.  Soil amendments and careful plant selection slowly turned the spot into a garden, with the Vine Maple as the centerpiece.

The project is substantially complete, but there remain a few missing pieces.  The native Shore Pines planned for the edge of the front yard seem to be unavailable.  Apparently the weather we had last winter was too much for nursery stock of even these hardy native trees.  The landscaper is searching for either Austrian Pines or Serbian Spruce as substitutes.  Getting the lawn repaired and looking good is also taking longer than I expected.
     
 
     
I ended up splurging on flagstone paths between the front and back lawns.  They replace the gravel paths I had and they fit in nicely with the woodland setting.  This is also the route I use to move the lawnmower between the two areas.  Having a solid surface to roll on makes that chore much easier.  From these photos, perhaps you can appreciate why I enjoy the big Douglas and Grand Firs in the yard.  When some folks purchase wooded property, the first thing they do is cut down all of the trees.  I don’t understand it.
     
 
     
I am having some difficulty photographing some of the shady areas.  When the sun is hitting the lighter objects, they end up over-exposed.  This is easier on one of our overcast days.  Can you spot the deer in the two photos above?  Hint:  I only managed to catch her back end.
     
 
     
The Japanese employ a trick called “borrowed scenery,” where distant views are incorporated into the landscape.  The following are my attempts to use the technique.  The large fir trees have sprouted up on their own since the property was cleared for building.  They grow like weeds here.  Eventually they will have to go when they become a wind storm hazard to the house.  But for now, I will enjoy them.
     
   
     
The task now is to let all of the new plantings settle in, mature and begin to fill in the bare spots.  Many are already showing signs of growth, so the prospects look good.  This has definitely been a worthwhile venture.  Overall, I am very pleased with the results. 

This week saw the sprinkler system completed and about 95% of the new plantings put into the ground.  The flagstone and gravel paths are also finished.  Yet to come are three medium sized shore pines (Pinus contorta), and once in place, the front yard plantings can be completed.  A dressing of mulch and other finishing touches are planned for the coming week.
     
My own project has been a set of stairs between the two levels of the front yard lawn and I should have them in place this weekend.  The entire yard is on a slope and this necessitates creating lawns and garden areas on terraces with banks separating them.  The new stairs will provide an easier pathway between the levels on the east end.  The crowning touch here will be a new Korean dogwood (Cornus kousa).
     
I am holding off on pictures of the yard now until the project is finished.  Instead, I am taking the opportunity to show off my Hotei rhododendron.  I have had it nine years and moved it twice, but this is the first year it has bloomed.  Even though it is only partially blooming, it seems to like the spot, so this is where it will stay.  Overall, this feels like a good omen for the garden.

All the cleanup is finished now.  This week saw installation of the expanded irrigation system and a good start on much of the hardscaping.  This includes new steps from the driveway to the back lawn and flagstone paths in the shade garden.  The shade garden is my favorite spot in the yard, so I’ll probably talk about it a lot.
     

     
Everything is still quite a mess due to the trenching for the sprinklers.  Nevertheless, I can see where things are going and I am very pleased. 
     
 
     
One of the resources this yard has in abundance is rocks.  Anyone who has climbed mountains and seen the moraines around glaciers will understand why.  Fidalgo and the other islands around us are the offspring of the Cordilleran ice sheet which covered northern Puget Sound beginning around 18,000 years ago.  This also explains our sandy soil.  It became apparent early on that something needed to be done about all the rocks.  The solution was to use them in the landscape.  There are borders and arrangements of native rock almost everywhere in the yard.
     
 
     
The plan for the coming week is to finish the irrigation system and pathways.  Then the ground will be prepared for the new plantings.  On Thursday, the new plants will arrive and be laid out by the designer and me.  I feel like a little kid waiting for Christmas.  Gardeners will understand that.

I previously mentioned all the damage to the garden over the winter.  I decided this was a good time to do something long in the planning and undertake a major upgrade of the whole yard.  For more than ten years, I have saved my tax returns for this job.  Besides the winter damage, there were a number of other issues.  I had several dead zones in the sprinkler system.  Our porous soil, dry climate and shade made growing plants in some areas next to impossible.  The lawns were poorly installed and had deteriorated over time.  Last winter, deer used the back lawn for a sleeping area and caused more damage.  In front, aggressive Escallonia hedges had become overgrown and encroached the lawn.  On the west edge, Himalayan blackberries, the bane of my life and scourge to all humanity, had taken over the hedges.  Instead of holding the jungle at bay, the Escallonia protected the blackberries and allowed them to take over.  In the Japanese shade garden, my do-it-yourself gravel paths were constantly being overturned by moles and covered by dropping fir needles.  Everywhere, slugs, snails, deer and rabbits browsed at will.  I have spent many years thinking about all of this.
           
I engaged a local landscaper and he brought in a designer for the project.  The overall idea was to maintain and enhance the Asian and Northwest themes I already had in place and to add more color.  The plan provides for drought resistance, ease of maintenance, a focus on native species, and the repair of specific problems.  Plantings have been chosen to tolerate wind, salt air and local wildlife, and to encourage visits by birds and friendly insects.  All mature plantings in place will be maintained or moved.  The shade garden will get new flagstone paths and a flagstone “sitting down” area.  At the street, a new “sentinel stone” will be placed at the driveway entrance, and the entry gardens will be replanted.  An amazing variety of new plants will be introduced.  To care for all the new plantings, the irrigation system will be improved, expanding from four watering zones to twelve.  Finally, an added bonus will be a new mounting post for the weather station sensor mast.  It will be blended into the garden and provide a better position for data collection. 
     
Today, as the title implies, much of the yard has disappeared.  The normal peace and quiet is interrupted by the sound of a trencher preparing the way for new sprinkler lines.  The Japanese garden paths are taking shape.  This long-awaited project will return me to the pleasures of gardening rather than subjugation by it.  As things progress, I will post updates here.  Stay tuned.

Time 8:40 am, temperature 54°, dew point 47°, barometer 30.30 in, wind speed calm, gust 1 mph.  Spring finally came to Fidalgo Island today.  It will reach 67° (~19° C) before the day is over.  I was heading to the hardware store when the tugboat caught my eye.  I grabbed a quick picture.
     
The winter was very hard on the garden.  I have lost several plants, which include some rated hardy for this zone.  Many of the survivors also look pretty bad.  Even our tough, native kinnikinnicks took a beating.  I have lots of pruning and cleanup to do this year.  Usually we can get away with growing things that don’t belong here, like California’s Fremontodendron or Fatsia.  Then we get a winter that teaches us to know our place. 
     
But today winter is in the past.  The sun is shining, the weeds are growing and my Red-winged Blackbird has shown up at the feeder.  Tonight I am feeling my first little glow of ultraviolet exposure.  It feels good.  That’s the true sign winter is over.

The annual Regillian Music Festival is underway, and the contestants are gathering.  Every suitable pond or slow-moving stream becomes a festival venue.  The performers are our Pacific Chorus Frogs (Pseudacris regilla).  At not quite 2 inches (5 cm) in length, these tiny creatures have probably escaped the notice of most people.  It is their vocalizations that cannot be ignored.  Huge voices emanate from these little guys, and when several are massed in a group, the music is amazing.  My koi pond seems to be a favorite gathering place every spring.  The ensembles begin small, just one or two voices.  Soon, they are joined by a few friends, tenors and baritones.  It is the males that are singing.  Finally, there are so many it becomes a rich, fully blended choir.  I have come to enjoy being lulled to sleep by their songs.
     
I have a theory about what is taking place.  The first arrivers are scouts who’s songs announce the discovery of a body of water.  They call in the other males, who join in the singing to attract the females.  After a few weeks, shine a light on the pond and an amazing scene is revealed.  Chasing, jostling, competing, croaking, it’s a frenzy of activity and desperation.  I’ll not elaborate any further for fear of arousing the censors.
     
Frogs, toads and salamanders are among the humblest of creatures.  They are cold-blooded, secretive and rarely given much consideration.  Nevertheless, frogs serve as both an indicator species and a keystone species.  This makes them extremely important in nature.  As an indicator species, they are among the first to reveal the effects of changes in the environment.  Their skin is permeable to water and gases and sensitive to ultraviolet and other radiation.  World-wide, frogs are disappearing and the reasons are unclear.  They are trying to tell us something, and we should probably listen up.  As a keystone species, frogs provide a food source for reptiles, birds, fish, mammals and other amphibians.  In turn, they consume large quantities of insects, and the tadpole young serve to keep ponds and streams clear of algae.  In 2007, this lowly little creature was elevated to become the official State Amphibian of Washington.  Does your state have an amphibian ambassador?
     
In June, the fruits of the Regillian Spring Concerts will become apparent.  Close inspection of the plants in and around the pond will reveal dozens of tiny half-inch (1.25 cm) froglets.  How the tadpoles manage to escape the koi is one more miracle of nature.  For me it is a pleasure to host these little visitors.  It is also gratifying to realize that their presence here signifies that my state in general, and my yard and pond in particular, are still healthy environments.  Now, to conclude our Spring Concert, enjoy Woody Guthrie’s and Bob Dylan’s versions of a very old song.  Photos:  NDomer73, aehack via Flickr

Something I never tire of here is a visit by the neighborhood bald eagles (Haliaeetus leucocephalus).  This pair stopped by yesterday.  It’s courtship season and talk about a ruckus.  They screech and holler and carry on something awful.  Their chattering calls seem to be announcing to the world that love is in the air.
     
The act itself really is in the air.  It’s a variation of the “mile high club.”  The pair will fly up high over the bay, circling and chattering at each other as they rise.  Then they lock their feet together and tumble awkwardly down towards the water.  Somehow, it happens in the midst of all that cartwheeling.  Just before hitting the water, they separate and regain flight.  It’s fascinating how animal behaviors have evolved.  It would seem easier to just perch in a tree somewhere quiet.  But that’s me, I guess.  In a few weeks they will settle down and return to their daily chores, fishing, rearing their young and resting in the sun.  We’ll have peace in the neighborhood once again. 
     
We have all seen American Bald Eagles fishing in episodes of National Geographic or Nature.  On TV they swoop down to the water surface and grab a fish on the fly.  The eagles here have a different technique.  They plunge right into the water and bob on the surface for a moment.  Then they heave themselves up usually with a small salmon or perch in their talons.  It’s not nearly as dignified as the swoop method, but it seems to get the job done.  They will use the fir trees along the shore, including the ones in my yard, as high platforms to spot fish.  They will also scavenge food when something washes up on the beach. 
     
I am not aware of any nest sites along the South Fidalgo shore.  I do see them flying over to Skagit Island, especially after catching a fish.  I am guessing they have nests over there where it is more secluded.  When not feeding or courting, they are often seen just perching in trees, on driftwood along the shore or even standing on the beach.  They don’t seem to be shy of humans, and don’t mind us observing them from a respectful distance.  This pair was perched directly over my deck.  They paid no attention to me while I took their picture.  Of course, at the time, they had other things on their mind.

     
“The meeting will come to order.  We have a guest speaker today.  Seagull will talk about anchor buoy hazards in Skagit Bay.”
     
I believe these could be Double-crested Cormorants (Phalacrocorax auritus) from their gregarious nature and the light beige on their necks.  From this view, however, they don’t seem much larger than the seagull.  This would point to the smaller Pelagic Cormorant (P. pelagicus).  On South Fidalgo, we also have Brandt’s Cormorant (P. penicillatus) at almost 3 feet tall. 
     
I have often seen flocks of cormorants flying to the east, low over the water on summer mornings.  I believe they are heading to the rich feeding grounds in Padilla Bay or to Fidalgo Bay.  Then in the evening, they return westward, again skimming closely over the water.  They resemble a formation of WWII Corsairs on a strafing run.  I also see them on hikes over to Dewey Beach.  There are two ruins of old ferry landings over there and the birds like to perch on top of the pilings.  Those are large ones, so they are probably the Brandt’s.  A fascinating characteristic is the way they stand upright.  It gives them an air of dignity, and the semblance of small dinosaurs; little T-Rex’s with beaks.  Is this a glimpse into avian evolution?  This group caught my eye today.  The driftwood log seems to be caught on an anchor buoy, giving the birds a stationary place to rest.