"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.

Influenced by NNM's Autumn Clematis!

It has been eight months since my last post here on Blogger and that entry was just to let folks know my web-designer, Chris Deatherage, had made changes to my website. 

Prior to that posting I had become very sporadic in publishing my blog posts which was out of characer for me. For after years of being very dedicated to regularly offering excellent written content that was accompanied by my photographs and or videos — I even received an award for my endeavors and an image of it can be found on my right sidebar — circumstances, upon circumstances beyond my control, interfered with my being able to produce content for this venue.

Those circumstances were mostly due to new and severe consequences of my battles with Neurofibromatosis (NF) a medical condition I've had since birth, which is discussed in one of my first blog posts as well as in many posts thereafter. (NF is also the subject of my book project, Imperfect Strangers.) A short video introducing the book can be viewed on Vimeo and/or You Tube.

In any event, I won't go into details of my forced hiatus from blogging (at least not within this post) for it was my seeing Nancy Nelson Mancini's photograph of her Sweet Autumn Clematis (a copy of it is posted atop this posting) that brought back bittersweet memories of my own beloved Sweet Autumn Clematis vines that I got in either 2004 or 2005, and ultimately blogged about in 2010 in an entry where I described their back story, (which I encourage you to read it and check out the pictures included in that post). 

Moreover, my Autumn Clematis vines were subsequently featured in my first garden-themed movie, The Kiwi Speaks! Fifteen Minutes of Fame... almost, which can be viewed on Vimeo and/or You Tube.

These vines ultimately survived being in two major garden upheavals (due to a couple of renovations ordered by my landlord) and one of those upheavls is discussed in volume two of my three hardcover book series, Words In Our Beak.

But getting back to NNM's image of her Autumn Clematis and my saying that seeing it evoked bittersweet memories, the reason for this is, as is that now, approximantely eighteen years of having these vines in my garden, they are gone.

I hadn't relized what a loss this has been for me until I saw NNM's image, and recalled my memories of having Autumn Clematis vines which never did well again after being hacked by my lanlord in 2021.

He had hacked the Autumn Clematis while standing on the building's rooftop and leaning over it to chop away my vines, This was not a safe action for him to take with my vines or with himself as he could've fallen off the building's rooftop.

Moreover, he had assaulted my Beech Tree, ruining her shape. 

The results of these violent actions are indicated in the red-bordered shapes which I've attached to the image directly above. It is also included in a post here on Blogger that I published at the time of the incident. It will still take quite sometime for the Beech Tree to regain her shape which she probably will, but the fate of my Autumn Clematis has not been good.

Initally, Juan V was able to redirect the vines' path and nudge them to grow on a custom built trellis as seen in the two pictures directly below.

But unfortunately they were begining to pull on the string lights that provide a "canopy" over my garden. I was concerned that the vines, given their strength, could yank down my string lights... 

... (which might cause a fire) and that fact, coupled with the truth that vines can harm brick and mortar, convinced me to have my Autumn Clematis vines (I had two) removed. 

For now in their place, a Clematis tangutica (she is indicated by an arrow affixed to the next photo) has been planted. She is a much less aggressive vine, but I feel she looks swallowed up by the big container and it will be quite some time before she eases into it. 

A couple of Amsonia plants have been placed there to keep the new vine company (as also seen in the next picture where a circle has been drawn around them)...

... but I don't like the look of their foliage, so I may need to plant something else there.

Not having my Autumn clematis is a big loss, yet I realize that is what happens when one gardens. Over the years, I've learned it's best to appreciate the flora when they are around as I certainly do, by meeting their needs for water and fertilizer, as well as by helping them to tell their stories through  my blog posts, my movies and my books.

However, given my new battle with NF and the limitations this brings, it may be quite a while before I can tell my flora's stories. Plus I need to concentrate on raising awareness about NF which I hope to do through my book project, Imperfect Strangers.

Is Spring of 2013 FINALLY, FINALLY springing? (PART FOUR of FIVE) ASK THE VINES!

Happy May Day, dear reader, and, as you might recall, I've blogged about this "special holiday" of May Day here on Blogger in bygone years, including a post which you may refer to by clicking here. 

And, with my opening salutation, I offer you a few "scenes" (posted above) from my garden on this first day of what Guinevere (from Camelot) called a "merry merry month." 

There were a number of "scenes" on this bright May Day and the ones above show a bud from my Paeonia suffruiticosa (Tree Peony), which is about to give birth, my sweet Cam enjoying a spring snack, and two mourning doves soaking up the sun whilst nibbling from a feeder near my Actinida kolomikta and Actimida (Kiwi Vines), two vines that are scheduled to be featured in today's post: part four of my series (which I introduced this past Friday on Blogger) where the things I grow are assisting me in answering the question: Is Spring of 2013 FINALLY, FINLLY springing?

My Echinacea Plant Agrees With Coco Chanel! "Vous pouvez porter blanc toute l' année!"

Yesterday, which was Labor Day, one of my Echinacea plants got into a heated discussion with the other herbs, plants, flowers, vines, shrubs and trees, all of which I grow in my terrace garden. 

The topic of their controversy? 

The issue of wearing white after Labor Day. Their discussion was apparently brought on by all of them recalling an old news broadcast, which centered around the image posted below: if you would like to refer to this story please click here.

I have three varieties of Echinacea in my urban terrace garden: Harvest Moon, White Swan and Purpea, all of which they are pictured (respectively) below. It probably does not take too much guess work to figure out which one of these three varieties had the most vested interest in the subject.

The Autumn Clematis (AKA Clematis paniculata or Sweet Autumn Clematis) flowers are in bloom again...

MY SWEET AUTUMN CLEMATIS IS IN HAS A STORY IN WIOB

A true sign of fall: the Autumn Clematis (AKA Clematis paniculata or Sweet Autumn Clematis) flowers (which grow in my rooftop garden) are in bloom again...

Some (there are many more which are off camera) of this vine's new buds and flowers (seen in the image atop this entry and in the pictures directly below) have been featured in a number of posts here on Blogger.

MY SWEET AUTUMN CLEMATIS IS FEATURED IN WIOB

The flowers may look delicate, but they are very hardy, especially when you realize that my Sweet Autumn Clematis has endured being upended for two garden "renovations."

Wednesday's Wisdom: " . . . black has it all. White too. Their beauty is absolute. It is perfect harmony."

Today's LLG blog segment on Wednesday's Wisdom, is being authored by a guest blogger, who happens to be my prolific Ophipprolificogon planiscapus AKA Black Mondo Grass, featured in a photograph that I took of him yesterday in my urban (New York City) terrace garden, and this image can be found in the top lefthand corner of today's blog entry. 

The Ophipprolificogon planiscapus shown here is one of the three of the Black Mondo Grass triplets, which I have had for many years in my garden, and he is the most vocal of the three. Therefore, he wanted to voice his opinion regarding something that I posted both on nybg's (New York Botanical Garden) tumblr page as well as TLLG's Facebook Page. (He will get into that later.)

For now, it is sufficient to say that my Black Mondo grass is no stranger to voicing his views on the Internet.

In any event, since today's LLG post has the distinction of being authored by my eager-to-weigh in Ophipprolificogon planiscapus, please allow me, without further ado, to hand my keyboard over to him.

Follow Up Friday: Donna's Legacy Continues!

The image atop today's blog entry was taken by Juan V when he came over to help me tend to my rooftop urban (NYC) garden yesterday, on the first day of autumn.

Since you asked . . .

A gardener named Kevin Loud posed a question to a Linkedin Discussion Group for garden writers, and that question was this: "Now that it's October what changes are happening -- and how are you getting your gardens ready for the cooler weather?"

From what I understand, Mr. Loud lives in New York in the Long Island area, and because I live in New York City, he and I share the same growing zones, so, presumably, we would get our gardens ready for "cooler weather" at the same time. 

However, a major difference between his garden and mine is that his is in the ground on his property and mine is in containers (80+) which I have on a roof extension. Therefore, my prep for winter is very different than his, and it is something I've discussed in great detail in a variety of venues, including here on blogger, within an entry you may refer to by clicking here.

I don't begin my garden winterizing in October, in fact, in bygone years, I've done it in late November, December, and even in early January, depending on the severity of the weather. I am in no hurry to put what I grow to bed for the winter — especially since they suffered such trauma in my recent garden upheaval, which you may refer to by clicking here, as well as here, and here.

But the other question Mr. Loud posed had to do with how the gardens of his fellow members in Linkedin Discussion Group were faring, and today's post is my "answer" to him; hence the following aerial images were taken by Juan V (this past Tuesday, October the second), and marked by yours truly to point out specific events which are occurring in my garden at this time.

The image above shows a partial view of the west "wall" of my garden, and the oval shape (to the left of the image) is surrounding my Rubus calycinoides (Ornamental Raspberry), a vine that I once referred to as a "diva," because her presence is so extraordinary! At the present time, her leaves have not yet begun to change into their autumn color wardrobe, but, in years gone by, she has looked this way (see images below) in the fall.

The larger circle that I've added to Juan's image indicates how my  Continus Coggygria (Smoke Bush), looks at this time. Some of its leaves are slowly beginning to turn color, but, like yours truly, my Continus Coggygria, seems hesitant to rush the season.

The First Day of Fall in 2012: It is the "BEST of TIMES" (AND) it is the "WORST of TIMES . . . "

September 2011

Second Tuesday in September 2012

Third Thursday in September 2012

Today, September 22nd 2012, is "offically" the first day of autumn; and I'm spending it in the throes of the upheaval in my rooftop garden (located in NYC) an upheaval that has interrupted my life, as well as the lives of the 80+ things which I grow here, and the lives of the occasional bee, loner cardinal (who I've now named Cam), and Cam's entourage of House finches, Mourning doves and House sparrows.

The disruption has thrown my Blogger posting schedule off a bit; and I apologize if you visited me here on days I've agreed to post only to find nothing new; but, as you read along, I'm sure you will realize why this occurred, for, as you know, under most circumstances I keep a schedule I've committed to!

Be that as it may, you my recall that in my last entry here on Blogger, which was Friday, September the Fourteenth, I posted an entry where I discussed a few of the things which I had lost in my garden due to their dying or their need to be relocated.

Honoring September's Morning Glory Flower (with a Memory of Barbara Brine)

The photographs atop this entry (and directly below) feature Morning Glories who climb up a metal fence in an area of Central Park located on the northern edge of Sheep's Meadow (mid-Park at 69th Street just north of Sheep Meadow) known as Nell Singer Lilac Walk. I saw them a little over a few weeks ago when taking a walk with CF.

A web-page for the Official Website of Central Park describes the Nell Singer area by saying it "boasts many varieties of its signature fragrant flower from around the world. Artfully composed he walk was designed for the greatest visual effect. Come spring, it's a wonderland of white, pink, and purple blossoms. Twenty years later, Conservancy gardeners undertook the major task of replanting the beds. Today, the little path along the meadow is a spring highlight for Park lovers."

I'm surprised this web source does not state that Morning Glory's grow up the fence (enclosing Sheep's Meadow), for as you can see this vine's flowers are spectacular.

With this month of September coming to an end the day after end tomorrow, I thought I should take the opportunity to publish this non-scheduled day entry in order to give a shout out to this flower type since she, along with the Asters (the flower variety seen in the pictures below that were taken within Shakespeare Gardens in Central Park), are considered to be the birth flower of the month of September.

According to a web-page for The Old Farmer's Almanac, "Asters are mainly symbols of powerful love. Perhaps because of their positive symbolism, according to folklore they were once burned to ward off serpents."

Re the Morning Glory, the aforementioned page has this to say: "Morning glories are simple symbols of affection. Those who rise early may be able to watch their lovely blooms open. Morning glory flowers generally curl closed later in the day, hence their name!"

Their beauty was not lost on my dearly departed friend, Barbara Brine, who was born on October 19th in 1934. Her obituary states, "Barbara Theresa Brine (Bebe) was born in Boston, Massachusetts on October 19, 1934, lived most of her adult life on Manhattan's Upper West Side, and died on August 22, 2014 in Centerville, Massachusetts..."

What FLORA Knows RE Time Passing

Once upon a time I saw a Mary Englebreit greeting card where the text read, "Time flies whether you are having fun or not." And indeed time does fly, calling to my mind, two of my favorite quotes invloving the passing of time.

Dr. Seuss's "How did it get so late so soon? It's night before it's afternoon. December is here before it's June. My goodness how the time has flewn. How did it get so late so soon?," is one of them.

The second quote re time passing that I appreciate is Kermit's quote: "Time is fun when you are having flies." 

Easter Season Decor Ends (for the year) in the Indoor Succulent Garden

This past Sunday was the Feast of Pentecost, which ends the Easter Season, and, even though the Easter Season is a fifty day celebration, I am already feeling a bit unfulfilled —  despite my participation in the intense Easter observances as well as the preparation for them during Lent. 

Therefore, I was consoled to read the following comment by the blogger, Emily L. Hauser who is referring to her experience with her 2011 Passover celebrations.

Hauser writes, "It really does seem that every year, Passover goes by faster. One minute I'm hyperventilating over the inhumane amount of cleaning, the next minute I'm saying 'what, it's over?' But here we are. Tonight is the start of the second holiday, the one that closes the week, and boom — its back to bread." I realize that Passover 2011 ended quite some time ago, and that for Ms. Hauser the festival of Shavuot (which is symbolically and historically related to Pentecost) was last week, but it is aways comforting to be reminded of the fact that my emotions are hardly unique to me, and that, in fact quite often, they transcend cultures and belief systems.  

Additionally, as this Easter Season comes to a close, I am also reminded that it is probably time to remove the Easter decorations that are interspersed with my indoor garden of succulents which grow  (under a special lighting system using cold/hot bulbs) in containers that have been lovingly and strategically placed on top of humidity trays (that are laden with pebbles), which are resting on a space 

I've created for an indoor garden on top of my kitchen armoire. (Please see this past blog entry for details.) You may recall, dear reader, that I initially created this indoor garden during wintertime (a few years ago) to have a home for some of my plants that would not withstand winter temperatures and conditions. (Yes, this does happen with my outdoor plants — on rare occasions —  in spite of my attentive winterizing methods — methods that I have described in a previous blog post which can be found by clicking here.

In any event, indoor gardens are quite nice to have — even if you do have the space for an outdoor garden. You may recall that in an earlier blog entry I wrote about a neighborhood indoor garden, a garden that is a celebration of the textures of succulents; and if you'd like to reread it, you may refer to by clicking here.

As for my "armoire-top" garden, it now contains a variety of succulents found at the Greenmarket at Union Square in New York City. 

"Although (MY) garden is a lovely place, was it worthy of so fine a guest?'

A dragonfly came to see me — or my Sweet Autumn Clematis — in my urban (NYC) terrace garden earlier in the week, and since (A) summer is closing in on us (the season of autumn begins at five o'clock in the morning tomorrow) and (B) I live in a city, this was an unusual occurrence. 

Although the city I live in is New York City, and perhaps the creature had heard Frank Sinatra crooning, "If I can make it there, I'll make it anywhere. It's up you New York, New York . . . "

HEY! HEY! HEY! It's Garden Meditation Day!

MY GARDEN IS THE SETTING FOR "WORDS IN OUR BEAK"

Earlier today I posted my tandem tale for the week and since that time it has been brought to my attention that today is Garden Meditation Day.

According to Holiday Insights (HI), "Per C.L, Fornari, the creator of this special day: Garden meditation day honors the fact that when we're working in the landscape we have the opportunity, if we choose to take it, to let the rest of the world fall away." 

Therefore. in honor of Garden Meditation Day, I've posted an image atop this entry which features a partial view of how my rooftop garden looks on this "holiday."

"My September Baccalaureate": Journey Towards Elegant Lighting

Last week, at this very time, I was preparing for a hurricane who has ben named 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.

New Arrivals: The Coccinellidae novemnotatas aka THE LADYBUGS

Last week, at this very time, I was preparing for a hurricane who has ben named 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.

Juan's Breathtaking Installation of Trivets Allows Donna's Legacy

The blooming of my Sweet Autumn Clematis in my urban garden, is in full swing; the vine and its flowers are playfully wrapping around Juan's Installation as evidenced in the image posted above this entry.

The precious delicate flowers against the rough brick provide a legacy to Donna, the grower from Cheerful Cherry Farms (whom I posted about in an earlier post). Donna sold me the Clematis paniculata plants a couple of years prior on that hot May morning, when she wore a wool cap and winter coat. I say legacy, because a few weeks ago I went down to Union Square (USQ) to tell Donna about the growth of my Clematis paiculata, but I only saw her husband, Jim.It was unusual not to see her with him, and I suspected that something had happened to her, but I said nothing. Recently I returned to USQ again, and Donna still was not there. This time I asked Jim about her.

"another year over AND a new one just begun . . . " PART TWO-G-2 (Sept. 12th — Sept. 20th 2012)

Today's entry here on Blogger is part two-G-2 of a series of posts pertaining to a year-end review for special occurrences in my urban garden for the year 2012 (the schedule for this series is described in part one as well as part two-A of this topic) and, because September 2012 was the month when my garden went through so much upheaval, I will be posting the review for that month in two parts. The first part of September (September 1st — September 11th) was discussed in yesterday's post.

In today's entry I will be reviewing events that took place in the month of September during the time period of September 12th through September 20th for the year 2012, and I will begin by referencing the photograph above which illustrates the fact that in spite of the various losses in my garden, my bling wearing (ankle bracelet or a branding bracelet) house finch was continuing to come back to my garden.

"another year over AND a new one just begun . . . " PART TWO-H-2 (Oct 11th — Oct 24th 2012)

Today's entry here on Blogger is part two-H-2 of a series of posts pertaining to a year-end review for special occurrences in my urban garden for the year 2012 (the schedule for this series is described in part one as well as part two-A of this topic) and, as I've said, because October 2012 was the month Hurricane Sandy hit the area near to where I live, my garden went through another upheaval, so I will be posting the review for October in three parts.

A Coppertina Tree Weighs in on Cinco de Mayo

COPPERTINA TREE 

Allow me to introduce myself on this day known as Cinco de Mayo, a name I like pronouncing instead of saying May 5th.

In any event, my name is Physocarpus opulifolius, however, you can call me Coppertina — just don't call me Coppertone. I am so over those suntan lotion jokes when it comes to my name.

In any event, I am posting an entry to this blog from where I usually stand, in the extreme northwest corner of the rooftop garden belonging to Patricia Youngquist, who normally writes the blog that you now are reading, which she calls The Last Leaf Gardener.

With all her focus lately on her Paeonia suffruiticosa (Tree Peony) and her Tulipa (Tulips) in her blog entries these past few days. I am ready to rename the blog, The Last Straw Gardener, if she doesn't write about me! Did you know that since this past April she wrote about the tulips six, yes six times? Count them:

ONE: May 4th 2011
TWO: May 1st 2011
THREE: April 30th 2011
FOUR: April 29th 2011
FIVE: ;April 27th 2011
SIX: April 26th 2011

Well, actually it's five times, because one of the tulips took it upon himself to post his opinion (the April 27th post) about a Sylvia Plath poem where he bemoaned her reference to tulips. How ungrateful! No poet ever wrote about a Physocarpus opulifolius. I mean the tulips are fairly newcomers to The Last Leaf Gardener's garden, and I have been here for nearly one year, and I don't recall her ever writing a post about me! But the tulips?

All those posts about them occurred in less than one month! I guess I should be used to flowers getting attention by now. After all, last year, my gardener (aka your blogger) posted about her Paeona suffruiticosa (Tree Peony) six times in six weeks, and remember, she was only posting once a week in those days, so the Paeonia suffruiticosa got all the“press”last year!

ONE: May 29th 2010
TWO: May 22nd 2010
THREE: April 24th 2010
FOUR: April 23th 2010
FIVE: April 17th 2010
SIX: April 10th 2010

So, if you'd like some images of me, I highly recommend that you contact my gardener (a.k.a. your blogger) and suggest that she render some photos of me into her unique collection of correspondence materials, or even a fine print.

Additionally, The Last Leaf Gardener has already posted about the Paeonia suffruiticosa four times this year, and she only re–opened her garden the week of April 13th, so it has not even been a month and the peony already has four posts!

ONE: May 3rd 2011
TWO:May 1st 2011
THREE: April 16th 2011
FOUR: April 13th 2011

What about featuring me? After all, with my coppery–orange foliage, I provide a beautiful contrast (if I do say so myself) to the H.F. Young Clematis, whose leaves you can see to my left in the photograph posted above this blog entry, and if you look closely, you might even see the many, many buds that are about to burst into gorgeous purple flowers, which of course, The Last Leaf Gardener blogged about last year without mentioning my name.

I guess I shouldn't take it so personally, after all The Last Leaf Gardener hasn't posted much (if anything) about the little guy to my right (in the photograph at the top of this blog entry), who goes by the name Acer shirasawanum (Autumn Moon) and whom I've nicknamed Limey because of his leaves.

For your information, dear reader, that purple color that you see in front of his container is basil and it smells SO good. And speaking of containers, I can't feel left out when it comes to where she houses me. I have pretty nice digs, eh?

Actually I just got them earlier this week when Juan V did some repotting, and I love 'em! I used to be in terra–cotta, and that's nice too, but my rim cracked (at the end of my growing season last year) while I was being moved out of the corner by Juan V and Patricia, which they did because they wanted to protect me from the harsh winter elements.

I was safely wrapped — like everything else in this garden — for the winter by The Last Leaf Gardener and Juan V before this past winter's onset as you may know from the blog entry discussing urban garden winterizing.

Since I'm not on Facebook (yet), you can check out my photos, both in my former terra–cotta home and also what I looked like in my winer gear when I was just before I was unwrapped for the spring.

However, since I'm in a New York terrace garden, I'm really lovin' my new“Viducci”home, especially since my garden comrades already have Viduccis!

The Autumn Clematis (which is on a diagonal from me so I get to stare at it) got its Viducci two years ago, while the Actinida kolomikta and Actimida (Kiwi Vines) got their Viducci last spring, and the Continus Coggygria (Smoke Bush, Grace) got her Viducci last fall. These can all be seen in the photographs posted below which were taken this past autumn.

FLORA GROUPING IN MY ROOFTOP GARDEN

YELLOW IS THE FALL LOOK FOR KIWI WINES

SMOKE BUSH AND ORNAMENTAL RASPBERRY

Moreover, the Sweet Autumn Clematis is going to be featured with the Actinida lolomikta and Actimida (Kiwi Vine) in a YouTube movie about the life in an urban garden from the Kiwi's point of view, as mentioned in a previous post.

And an image of the Continus Coggygria (Smokey Bush, Grace) has been rendered into a greeting card has been the subject of a number of blog posts including this one, this one, and this one.

Hopefully, I'll "join the ranks”and be featured in The Last Leaf Gardener's line of invitations, event program covers, greeting cards, or movies, but for now, dear reader, thanks for hearing me out. I guess my new container has given me the confidence to boast and post on my own behalf. It's black color is pretty elegant, don't you think? (You probably have heard how New Yorkers love the color black, and I gotta say, as a Coppertina who has seen it all, so do I.)

And, before I leave you, let me wish you, once again, a Happy Cinco de Mayo, a great excuse I've heard for having a Margarita. My gardener had this to say about a grapefruit/cilantro variety that is pictured below (and available at Santa Fe restaurant in NYC):

“What EVEN Jimmy Buffet (when he was wasted again in Margaritaville) may not have known is, while having“booze in the blender,” may render a“frozen concoction”that helped him“hang on,”having a Grapefruit (yes, I said grapefruit) Margarita at Santa Fe (a restaurant serving southwestern cuisine in the Upper West Side of New York City, just off Columbus Avenue on 71st Street), you will be doing more for yourself than just 'hangin on.' This is without a doubt the best margarita in New York, and deserving of a nod from The Daily News' Best of New York. The grapefruit Margarita (pictured above) is refreshing, with just the right potency, and it was“designed by bartender extraordinaire, Alex (pictured below) . . .

. . . who gives all the credit to a bar he came upon by chance by traveling to Pennsylvania of all places. What makes it better than the booze-in–the–blender Margaritas? Well, first of all, no blender — just wonderful ingredients that include fresh white grapefruit, agave, guava nectar, fresh lime juice, cilantro infused tequila and of curse the mixology skills and secrets of Ales. The grapefruit margarita can be had at Santa Fe, located at 73 West 71st Street, a fun bar and superb restaurant serving southwestern cuisine. Open Sun–Thurs from 11:30AM–11:00PM and Fri–Sat from 11:30AM–12:00AM. Credit Cards accepted. 212.724.0822.”

Now dear reader, I'm signing off, but do feel free to put in a good word for me, the Coppertina, when you next contact The Last Leaf Gardener, and do enjoy your Cinco de Mayo, whether you are puttering in your garden, toasting with a Margarita, or just going about your day.

FALL 2018 ADDENDUM: 

I no longer actively produce event program covers, invitations and the types of greeting cards described here or on my website but arrangements might be able to be made under certain circumstances. My focus is on the Words In Our Beak book series, pictured below...

MY BOOK SERIES

...whose stories are told from the point of view of Cam, a female cardinal, whose photo is on the cover of each book. Words In Our Beak’s goal is to open readers to a simple understanding of the winged world and their environment. Set in my rooftop urban garden in New York City. Words In Our Beak is directed to children and adults who are curious about birds, and want to learn about them from a unique perspective. The books include hundreds of images of flora and fauna, links to movies, as well as to informative narratives that have been created by the author.

Please click here to go to my blog post that provides details as to where you can get these books. Additionally, I have rendered some images from these books into other formats and they are available via Fine Art America (FAA). Some of my other photographs (Black & White Collection, Kaleidoscopic Images and the famous Mandarin duck who visited NYC) can also be found on my FAA pages.