I don’t know what season it was when Captain John Palliser and the other members of the British North American Exploring Expedition (more commonly known as the Palliser Expedition) worked their way through the Crowsnest Pass at some point between 1857 and 1860, on their mission to survey a massive chunk of western Canada. If it was in the autumn, with the aspen trees putting on a brilliant show, they were probably especially awed, as I was a few weekends ago, at the magnificence of Seven Sisters Mountain, first named The Steeples by one of the explorers. Almost one hundred years after the expedition passed through, in 1951, a daring Swiss-born mountaineer named Bruno Engler became the first person to successfully ascend the Seven Sisters, “with considerable difficulty“…and, as this account from 2014 shows, not too many people have attempted it since. Staying on the ground to admire the impressive “steeples” seems much safer and very, very pleasant.
This gnarled/gnarly (!) tree stump was posed dramatically in the middle of a massive rock slide area that we crossed on a recent hike around Upper Kananaskis Lake. If you find yourself with a few hours to kill in Kananaskis Country, this is the hike to do – it’s 16 kilometres of incredible scenery and diverse landscapes that are not to be missed. As a bonus, the elevation gains are minimal so if your knees are a muddled mess like mine, you can still nicely manage. And there are TWO waterfalls! Truly difficult to top.
Aaaaaaand then the stump got me thinking about gardening (well, pretty much everything does so that’s not a huge stretch)…and specifically, wildlife and naturescape gardens and stumperies. I haven’t seen too many designed/planted stumperies in the city, but there is a fantastic one at the Ellis Bird Farm in Lacombe, Alberta that wowed me when I saw it a few years ago. What are your thoughts on converting leftover (dead) tree parts to garden elements? Have you ever done it? If so, how did you go about creating your design?
I wonder how much soil is under that rock? I’m guessing, not much. And I’m not showing it in this photo, but there was snow clinging to the rocks just southeast of where I was standing. In July. This common willowherb (Epilobium ciliatum), a close relative of the (ahem!) even more common fireweed (Chamerion angustifolium*, also known as rosebay willowherb), is a mountain plant with heaps of beauty AND brawn.
*In another case of Nomenclature Gone Wild, fireweed was previously known as Epilobium angustifolium. I can’t yet find an explanation as to why the genus name was changed for this plant and not for common willowherb…but I’ll keep digging.
Admission to Canada’s national parks has been free all year as the country celebrates its sesquicentennial, but it’s a gift I hadn’t yet enjoyed…until braving the insane long-weekend crowds in Banff’s Johnston Canyon last Saturday. Parking was at a premium (thank goodness my brother has a car with a supremely compact exterior and a dimension-bending interior) and the steel catwalks to the spectacular falls were crammed with visitors, but as we ventured past the Upper Falls and headed towards the mineral pools known as the Ink Pots, the throngs thinned out and the scenery kept getting better and better…if such a thing is even possible. It’s pretty easy to see why everyone is so keen on showing up.
Lewisia (Lewisii spp.) isn’t a plant I’ve come across very often here in Calgary, so I was absolutely delighted last week when I spotted a couple of specimens in bloom in the William Reader Rock Garden. If my own rock garden ever happens, there will be more than a couple of these beauties tucked in. Do you grow them?
Apart from the staff bustling away at the tea house, the whole of the William Reader Rock Garden was mine one morning last week. It was utterly blissful. Especially when you contemplated scenes like this, which were pretty much everywhere. It’s a wonder I didn’t trip over my jaw and stumble on the rocks.
And this is the garden past its peak, sliding into autumn.
The importance of labeling garden things (plants, seed packets, fertilizer containers, and those assorted parts and pieces for the lawnmower that mysteriously are not currently installed on the machine) cannot be overstated. I believe I have stressed it in more than one article that I’ve written.
This is me clearly railing against my own decent, sound, and meaningful advice: here is a photo of a nasturtium (the super common but super pretty ‘Jewel Mix’) that I grew this year in the community garden. Trouble is, I also grew the even more lovely ‘Ladybird Cream Purple Spot’ and now that they’re all finished blooming, I’m collecting seed for next year. Guess what I didn’t do before all the flowers were spent?
Oh well. I’ll have a fantastic collection of ‘Jewel Ladybird Cream Purple Spot Mix’ for the 2018 gardening season. It will be awesome.
What is your labeling practice in the garden? And do you grow nasturtiums? If you do, which cultivars are your favourites?