The Hummingbird Photo Studio

Posted on July 25, 2022 by Janet

Here’s a little story about hummingbird photography. You see, my deck pots at the cottage here on Lake Muskoka north of Toronto are not intended to be beautiful. If they were, I’d buy some of the spectacular hanging baskets that the garden centres sell, plop them in and just enjoy the colour and texture. That way, I’d have more time to swim, read, write and drink wine. No, instead I use my containers to lure hummingbirds in order to photograph them on favourite flowers for the stock photo library that is my business. That’s why I call the containers my “motley pots”. They don’t match – in fact they’re a bit ugly – but they do the job.

For many years, I’ve been buying “hummingbird groceries” in spring, i.e. food for the ruby-throated hummingbird. I don’t have a sugar feeder, but my lake neighbours do, so my groceries are plants. I’ve learned which species they like (purple lantana, cuphea), which they love (agastaches), and which they prefer above all others (most tender sages).

Their favourite would be Salvia guaranitica ‘Black & Blooms’ (or the similar ‘Black & Blue’). This tender sage is not easy to find in Toronto so I’ve been digging it up in autumn and taking it to the city, where it spends winter in pots in my basement laundry tubs under a window, dreaming of Argentina. I water it occasionally and it sends up growth all winter. In mid-spring, I cut it back to the new sprouts and bring it back to the cottage. Provided it gets watered and no frost occurs, it’s raring to go again by July.

Other hummingbird favourites in my pots this year are Cuphea Funny Face, below, and some Agastache aurantiaca cultivars in pink, apricot and yellow that I seeded myself in the city rather late in spring, so they’re still small but will be good by mid-August. I will leave these to drop seed, because they’re excellent self-seeders, even in pots. And when I was at the garden centre in May, I bought some red petunias (Supertunia Really Red). I didn’t think they’d be good for hummingbirds but as a plant photographer, a new plant purchase is never a waste for me. Surprisingly, the hummingbirds seem to appreciate them too!

And I tucked in a few plants of Verbena bonariensis Meteor Shower for their airy blossoms which the bumble bees adore, but it’s not a great hummingbird plant. Here it is with a compact form of S. guaranitica, Bodacious Rhythm & Blues that I bought this spring at the Toronto Botanical Garden’s plant sale.

But the big score this summer are my plants of the biennial standing cypress, Ipomopsis rubra (so-called because its ferny leaves resemble those of cypress trees). I had photographed this plant, a native of the U.S. in the alpine garden at the Montreal Botanical Garden, below, so I knew I could grow it.

But seed I’d purchased from a seedhouse did not germinate; it took fresh seed donated by my friend, seed maven Kristl Walek in Brockville, Ontario to do the trick. I sowed the seed in 2020, and last summer (2021) there were lots of little ferny rosettes here and there in my sandy, granitic soil. Kristl warned me they’re very hard to transplant when bigger, so I dug up a few of the small rosettes and carefully put them in 6-inch pots filled with gravelly soil, below. In late autumn before the ground froze, I dug a hole behind the cottage and placed the pots inside, surrounding them with pine needles and mulching the tops with pine needles, too. We had a cold, cold winter (it even killed the spongy/gypsy moth eggs) but lots of snow cover – perfect for insulating the plants.

This spring after the soil thawed, I dug up the pots and very carefully transplanted the little plants into my deck pots in soil amended with sand and gravel. I watered them in and away they went. This morning, the tallest is 54 inches high and 4 inches wide, much bigger than those in the dry meadows. I call them my Dr. Seuss plants. I even staked them so they wouldn’t break in our summer storms!

And the hummingbird loves them! Yesterday, I managed to do some still photos with my camera…..

….. but I wanted a little video too. After sitting for more than an hour and having the hummingbird fly in, spot me, then fly away, I decided to set up my camera on a tripod. Then I went in and made coffee. I went outside periodically and turned off the video and started a new one. Finally, five videos in, I spotted her from the kitchen. I went to the door with my cell phone to watch and after drinking her fill of Ipomopsis, she moved on to the red petunias and cuphea. I videotaped that part with my phone! (I’ll get closer with my zoom lens later this summer.)

The camera video of the standing cypress isn’t spectacular, but it will do. (I will increase the frames-per-second in the settings for future videos). I actually saved it first as a high-res movie, then as a smaller computer-resolution video. The original had the happy screams of the kids across the bay swimming and also a few wind gusts. In the second, I ditched the kids and the wind and added some music by TRG Banks. It’s not perfect — I’m a photographer, not a videographer — but it’s a good start!

All in all, a good morning in the hummingbird studio. Oh, and here’s an older video of my hummingbirds from previous years!

A November Wine Tasting

Posted on November 29, 2016 by Janet

This is my month to explore that dark, rich, full-bodied, dowager great-aunt of ‘red’ – otherwise known as ‘wine’. Or burgundy, if you like. Like its viticulture companion, a little wine in the garden goes a long way. Overdo it and you might not like the heavy feeling that results. But a little sip here and there adds depth and elegance to the garden. So let’s sample a few good vintages, shall we?

In my part of the world, spring wines are quite common, given that the Lenten roses or hellebores are flowering in profusion. This is Helleborus ‘Blue Lady’.

There are a few excellent wine-red tulips for later in spring, like the lovely lily-flowered tulip ‘Burgundy’, below.

And I loved this combination of the bicolour Triumph tulip ‘Gavota’ and dark ‘Queen of Night’ at the Toronto Botanical Garden.

I know I might have included the late-flowered tulip ‘Queen of Night’ in my blog on ‘black’ flowers, but it often shows with more red. This is that sensuous tulip spangled through an uncharacteristically wild bulb planting in the very formal Jardin des Tuileries in Paris. Notice how the repetition of the dark colour carries your eye up through the various beds, unifying them and lending them a somewhat ‘designed’ feeling in keeping with the place.

One of the more elegant little spring bulbs is snakeshead fritillary (Fritillaria meleagris). Apart from the checkered, wine-red species, there is a white form as well.

Of all the small trees for gardens, the biggest choice in red-leafed selections can be found in Japanese maples. This is the highly regarded Acer palmatum var. dissectum ‘Inaba-shidare’ at the Toronto Botanical Garden.

But the ubiquitous ‘Bloodgood’ Japanese maple (Acer palmatum) also puts on a beautiful wine-red show throughout summer, and colours beautifully to bright scarlet in fall. Here it is with the Triumph tulip ‘Boston’ in the Mary Fisher Spring Garden at the Toronto Botanical Garden.

One of the best shrubs for adding deep wine-red colour to an herbaceous border is purple smokebush. There are a few cultivars but the most common is Cotinus coggygria ‘Royal Purple’. The trick is to cut it back to the ground, i.e. ‘coppice’ it, in spring. Here is ‘Royal Purple just emerging with tulips.

Here is coppiced ‘Royal Purple’ a little later in the season with a lovely matching brushmark lily (possibly ‘Latvia’) in Bev Koppel’s wonderful garden at the Deep Cove Chalet Restaurant outside Victoria, B.C.

Here is coppiced Cotinus coggygria ‘Royal Purple’ with tropical Tibouchina urvilleana at the Conservatory Garden in New York’s Central Park.

And in Toronto horticulturist Frank Kershaw’s garden, there is an entire symphony of wine colour around Cotinus coggygria ‘Royal Purple’, including shutters, window awning and dwarf Japanese barberry.

Given all the hybridizing that’s occurred with heucheras over the past few decades, there are numerous selections with luscious leaves of burgundy and reddish-purple. At the Horticulture Centre of the Pacific outside Victoria, B.C., I adored this beautiful spring combination featuring Heuchera ‘Amethyst Mist’, Allium aflatunense ‘Purple Sensation’ and the dark-leafed ninebark Physocarpus ‘Diablo’ at rear.

Heuchera micrantha ‘Rachel’ is quite lovely.

And Heuchera ‘Pinot Noir’ has a name that fits our theme very nicely. It’s shown below frolicking with blue-flowered Gilia capitata.

One stunning peony is dark enough to be called ‘wine’, even if its actual name describes another favourite indulgence. Here is Paeonia ‘Chocolate Soldier’.

Though true-red irises have eluded hybridizers, there are many that come close to our November colour. Below is the heritage bearded iris ‘Col. Candelot’. Other deep-reds to check out are ‘Red at Night’, ‘Galactic Warrior’, ‘War Chief’, ‘Raptor Red’ and ‘Nebraska Big Red’, to name just a few.

And what about this gorgeous thing? Meet Iris spuria ‘Cinnabar Red’.

Though the mourning widow geranium (Geranum phaeum) is a little on the purplish side, I’ve included it here anyway. (And it’s a great bee flower!)

The breeders of the sweet William (Dianthus barbatus) below decided on a memorable name for their dark-flowered beauty. Meet ‘Heart Attack’, hanging out here with airy Allium schubertii at Wave Hill in the Bronx.

Early summer gives us masterworts (Astrantia major), and though many seem to be wishy-washy in their colouration, that’s not the case with ‘Hadspen Blood’, below, from Nori and Sandra Pope’s once glorious garden.

I simply adore Knautia macedonica with its dark-red button flowers that flower from spring well into autumn. It is the zingiest zing you can have in a border (or meadow), and all the bees love it, too.

Daylilies (Hemerocallis) aren’t really my thing anymore, other than the dear old orange tawny lily (H. fulva) that I have given up trying to annihilate in my garden. That being said, there are lots of wine-colored selections to choose from, including the lovelies below.

Clockwise from upper left: Strutter’s Ball, Round Midnight, Regal Finale, Tuscawilla Blackout, Black Ice, Jungle Beauty, Starman’s Quest, Jennifer Napier

Admittedly, Mexican hat (Ratibida columnifera) isn’t very showy, but it’s a fine choice for well-drained soil and a naturalistic garden.

Martagon lilies (Lilium martagon) are the epitome of elegance and will take light shade. Below is the fabulous ‘Sarcee’, named for a First Nation tribe in hybridizer Fred Tarlton’s province of Alberta. I photographed it in his astonishing collection at the Devonian Gardens near Edmonton.

It is made to last for a longer time. you can try this out prescription du canada viagra They have found the viagra active PDE5 body enzyme becomes unable to cause impotency in man’s body. Purchase Your Medication without Prescription A number of online pharmacies which provide you viagra sale no prescription at your doorstep. In case you are experiencing sexual dysfunction designed a diminished libido, cialis generic cipla and 69-74 had trouble achieving orgasm. One of the magical, airy plants in Dutch designer Piet Oudolf’s palette is the dark form of Japanese burnet (Sanguisorba tenuifolia ‘Purpurea’) at the Toronto Botanical Garden.

For tough, low-maintenance perennials with wine-red leaves, you simply can’t beat sedums. Below is my array of some notable selections. The bees will thank you!

We don’t always stop to observe the subtle colour changes that happen as flowers age beyond their prime. I loved this dreamy crimson-wine duo of Joe Pye weed (Eutrochium purpureum ssp. maculatum) and fountain grass (Pennisetum alopecuroides ‘Cassian’).

Japanese barberry (love it or hate it) occupies a special place in the world of wine foliage, and its response to trimming makes it especially appealing in formal gardens. Without a red barberry, how could you possibly achieve the beautiful creation below, in the Knot Garden at Filoli Garden near San Francisco? Along with the Berberis thunbergii ‘Crimson Pygmy’, we have dwarf lavender cotton (Santolina chamaecyparis ‘Nana’), germander (Teucrium chamaedrys) and dwarf myrtle (Myrtus communis ssp. tarentina ‘Compacta’).

Though not particularly showy, the pineapple-scented, deep-red flowers of Carolina allspice (Calycanthus floridus), below, are intriguing – and they fit my category!

What about trees with dark-red leaves? One that is deservedly popular – and much smaller than its parent, almost a tall shrub – is weeping copper beech (Fagus sylvatica ‘Purpurea’), below.

And I cannot go on without mentioning ‘Forest Pansy’ redbud (Cercis canadensis) – especially when it looks like this from underneath the canopy!

Now for some warm-weather wines: tender bulbs, tropicals and annuals.

A few of the pineapple lilies (Eucomis) are an interesting combination of olive and burgundy, like E. comosa ‘Oakhurst’, below. Look at that dark-red stem. (‘Sparkling Burgundy’ is another with similar colouration.)

Although they can look parkimental (park+regimental) grown in rows or Victorian-style bedding, many cannas have beautifully marked leaves and, in the right spot, add a luscious touch. Here is ‘African Sunset’ canna lily (Canna australis).

Speaking of the ‘right spot’, in Bev Koffel’s garden, a reddish canna and the deep-burgundy succulent Aeonium arborescens ‘Zwartkop’ add rich notes to an elegant urn.

Do you grow dahlias? If you like dark and dramatic, look no further than ‘Black Knight’.

Perhaps no species offers more possibilities in the wine spectrum than the foliage plant coleus (Plectranthus scutellarioides, formerly Solenostemon, formerly Coleus blumei). I was enchanted by the way the gardeners at Toronto’s Spadina House worked ‘Wizard Mix’ coleus into their late summer plantings.

Want to see a few more? Here is ‘Kong Red’…

… and ‘Dipt-in-Wine’…..

… and ‘Big Red Judy’.

Though it’s not hardy in my part of the world, Pennisetum setaceum ‘Fireworks’ is a fabulous, variegated, dark-red grass to add movement and colour to the summer garden.

I’m a frequent visitor to the Montreal Botanical Garden, and I loved seeing these burgundy-leaved tropicals against a yellow and gold three-panelled screen there a few years ago. From left rear are red spike (Amaranthus cruentus), rubber tree plant (Ficus elastica ‘Burgundy’), calico plant (Alternanthera dentata ‘Purple Knight’) and ‘Carmencita’ castor bean (Ricinus communis).

Here’s a look at the flowers of ‘Carmencita Bright Red’ castor bean (Ricinus communis). (Caveat emptor. Do be aware that this plant’s seeds contain one of the deadliest toxins known to man, ricin. Just a few salt-sized grains of purified ricin can kill an adult.)

When we visited Nancy Goodwin’s Montrose Garden in Hillsborough, NC, a few years ago, spectacular and unexpected colour combinations were everywhere. I did enjoy this red-leaf hibiscus (Hibiscus acetosella) with orange dahlias.

In my own garden, I experiment each year with the contents of the six containers on the lower landing of my sundeck. One summer, below, I tried ‘Sweet Caroline Red’ sweet potato vine (Ipomoea batatas) with Anagallis ‘Wildcat Orange’. (The truth is it looked better in June than it did in August, since the anagallis petered out and the chartreuse-leaf pelargoniums were underwhelming, but the sweet potato vine thrived.)

Speaking of pelargoniums, ‘Vancouver Centennial’ is a real winner, with its bronze-red foliage.

One of the best spiky ‘centrepiece’ annuals is Cordyline australis ‘Red Star’, seen here in a pot at the Toronto Botanical Garden. Just look how its deep tones are picked up in those colour splotches on the luscious ‘Indian Dunes’ pelargonium.

And hello ‘grains-as-ornamentals’! This was redspike (Amaranthus cruentus) with slender vervain (Verbena rigida) and ‘Lemon Gem’ marigolds (Tagetes tenuifolia) in a fabulous planting one year at Vancouver’s Van Dusen Botanical Garden.

Speaking of edibles, you can’t get find a more beautiful, wine-leafed edible than this beet: Beta vulgaris ‘Bull’s Blood’ with nasturtiums and chartreuse ‘Margarita’ sweet potato vine (Ipomoea batatas).

And my last sip for our November wine tasting is a fine, full-bodied claret – yes, ‘Claret’ sunflower (Helianthus annuus).

Whew! ‘Wine-ding’ down now, that takes me through eleven months in my 2016 paintbox. Stay tuned for December and some lovely silver ‘belles’.

Complementary Contrast: Red and Green

Posted on February 26, 2016 by Janet

While my earlier February post focused on some of my favourite red flowers for the garden, I want to spend just a little time talking about a principle of colour theory that, at least in the case of red, is a textbook example of visually pleasing complementary contrast. You remember that from art theory, right? Colours that appear opposite each other on the artist’s colour wheel are said to be “complementary contrasts” and there is a harmony about them. While not everyone might feel that way about orange & blue, the use of lots of restful green foliage to frame brilliant red blossoms seems like an obvious design approach.

Since a picture is worth a thousand words, let’s look at a few examples I’ve collected over the years. How about these sweet red tulips popping up amidst fresh hosta foliage, at Toronto’s Casa Loma? So much more lovely than emerging in bare spring soil.

And look how pretty this bright ‘Pacifica XP Really Red’ vinca (Catharanthus roseus) is when paired with the chartreuse-green groundcover creeping Jenny (Lysimachia nummularia ‘Goldilocks’) at Missouri Botanical Garden.

The deservedly popular perennial stonecrop Sedum rupestre ‘Angelina’ makes a fabulous carpet for this annual red portulaca at the Royal Botanical Garden in Hamilton, Ontario.

How about some tropicals? I was wowed by this juxtaposition of dumpy little red salvia (S. splendens) and Canna ‘Pretoria’ at Stanley Park, Vancouver, B.C.

This premature ejaculation solution is available canada pharmacy viagra in the market which helps to cure erectile dysfunction. Reflexalogy stanmore is a complementary generic brand viagra therapy which works with the application of pancake makeup to even out blotches and the treatments Jackson used for his illness further lightened his skin color, he could appear quite pale. Like the shopper, it is purchase generic cialis the brand she recognizes and knows, and grabs a hold of. Therefore, diabetics should always make good choices of the foods that you like to eat even every time of the day and they will fix an appointment with a psychologist. http://cute-n-tiny.com/cute-animals/panda-dog/ female viagra pills
And I loved this combination of (very underused) Gomphrena globosa ‘Strawberry Fields’ with the taro Colocasia esculenta ‘Illustris’ at Sarah P. Duke Gardens in Durham, North Carolina.

This little ensemble of red coleus and honeybush (Melianthus major) with other tropical foliage plants took my eye at Chanticleer Garden in Wayne, PA many years ago.

Of course, you don’t have to think small when considering designing a garden using plants featuring red-and-green complementary contrast. Even a humble vegetable patch, like this one at Chateau Villandry, in France’s Loire Valley, illustrates my colour theory!

And the concept works with garden furnishings too, as you can see with the sweet little iron sculpture from Toronto’s Mark Clark, left, and the traditional torii gate leading into the Japanese Garden at Victoria’s Butchart Gardens, right.

Be sure to come back in March, when I’ll explore that most important of garden hues: chlorophyll-green.

15 Floral Valentines for the Red-Inclined

Posted on February 14, 2016 by Janet

I thought I’d celebrate Valentine’s Day

By loving some posies on my blog today

Not just any old flowers – oh no, no… instead

I’ve chosen some favourites in show-stopping RED

1. Let’s go with a tulip for (please hurry!) spring

Do you know ‘Rococo’? What a gorgeous thing!

One of those feathery parrots that draws lots of “Ahhh’s”

And she’s equally lovely when cut for a vase

2. In my cottage at the lake, it wouldn’t be May

Without this sweet little wildling that grows near the bay

I’m happy the seeds that I’ve sown have grown fine

Increasing my colony of wild columbine!

3. For a long time I wasn’t sure what to think

About the native wildflower called Indian pink…

Spigelia marilandica is its botanical name

And yes, I like it in woodland, where it puts ferns to shame.

4. Peonies in red are a populous lot

But not all have the oomph that my choice has got

She’s a buxom thing, bred for the cold Midwest

Meet ‘Buckeye Belle’ – simply one of the best

5. Do you have a wee glade where the soil is quite wet?

This red-flowered lovely is a sure-fire damp bet

Behold Primula japonica ‘Miller’s Red’

A candelabra primrose for a bog or moist bed.

6. I love red corn poppies, Papaver rhoeas, by name

As somber Remembrance day symbols they earned their fame

But did you know that a man-of-the-cloth named Wilks

Became famous for breeding these flowers of silk

Developing the “Shirley” strain in doubles of white, coral and pink

Though the prettiest still fall in the red tones, I think……

7. Summer daisies are myriad but none blooms as long

As blanket flowers (Gaillardias) – provided you’re a strong

Deadheader! And if so you’ll love ‘Burgundy’ – and she’s
cheap tadalafil india Although Schreyer wishes to increase the use of geothermal energy in Canada. Sildenafil citrate contained this medication assist men to get a rock hard erection during the intercourse. discover this shop shop viagra Since there are viagra australia online so many online websites that offer online education course for new drivers, it has become slightly tough to identify the best one. Understanding the functions of cialis pills for sale both the gallbladder and bile may present us a clue about what has to be done to reduce these symptoms after gallbladder surgery.
Superb at providing pollen for foraging bees!

8. What about a red annual for a tropical pot?

Here’s one that couldn’t be more sizzling-hot:

It’s Mandevilla ‘Pretty Crimson’ – or “rocktrumpet” in Brazil

And its dark-red trumpet flowers are designed to thrill!

9. I’ve got a favourite rudbeckia with a colour that’s dandy

Not yellow or gold, but rich-red ‘Cherry Brandy’

Montreal Botanical Garden uses it in a fabulous scene

‘Cherry Brandy’ and Tuscan kale, with its leaves of blue-green.

10. If your thoughts turn to kisses on Valentine’s night

You’ll like Salvia ‘Hot Lips’ in bright red-and-white

Think it’s a bit overrated? Well, don’t take my word…

It got top marks from my resident hummingbird.

11. My favourite-of-all summer bulbs is bright-red

This is Crocosmia ‘Lucifer’ in my cottage meadow bed

12. Here’s a dye plant from the prairie, where it seldom rains

Meet Coreopsis tinctoria ‘Dwarf Red’ of the plains

13. Back to perennials – here’s one for a damp August bower

Lobelia cardinalis – our native red cardinal flower

And while we’re at it, let’s raise our glass to that colourful word

Shared by Roman prelates and this fine northern bird

14. Another late summer perennial if your soil is mucky

Is swamp mallow (Hibiscus moscheutos) from southern climes like Kentucky

And my favourite of all is red ‘Cranberry Crush’

You won’t find another flower this big or this lush….

15. When considering roses of red on this day

There’s a much-hackneyed phrase that I’ll borrow to say

If you want a red rose, just “go big or go home”

And choose ‘Dortmund’. Okay, that’s the end of my poem.

Not a Blog!

Posted on January 6, 2016 by Janet

This is not a blog. I repeat: this is not a blog. It is merely a taste of blogs to come this year. And they will be about COLOUR! Or color (if you prefer it without extraneous British/Canadian vowels).

Yes, I thought it might be time for The Paintbox Garden to adhere to its stated theme. So each month of 2016 will be devoted to a different hue, beginning with JANUARY, which will be white as the driven (or walking) snow. White as in wonderland, appropriate to the season. White as an even paler shade of pale. And of course, white as in perfume – coming up soon.

FEBRUARY will be red, as in better — than dead, paint the town —, roses are —, and UB-40s favourite beverage. And the longest, boldest wave length in Isaac Newton’s spectral light arsenal. Plus, of course, swamp hibiscus.

MARCH will be green (yes, I know, hackneyed Irish trope for St. Paddy’s). But it is the only really important colour in the garden paintbox, as all chlorophyll-lovers know. Nevertheless, as Kermit is fond of saying, it ain’t easy being green. My March blogs will help dispel that notion.

But being Kermit-green is definitely easier than being chartreuse, which is half-green and half-yellow. I will squeeze some limes… and chartreuses…into my March blogs as well.

Because it’s the cruellest month, as T.S. Eliot reminded us, APRIL will be blue. Actually, I chose blue for April because of all those lovely little azure bulbs that spring up from the snow. But there will be azure blues….

….and lighter sky-blues for the entire gardening season, too.

MAY will be pink, as in the darling buds. Think crabapples, weigelas, columbines, peonies, and phloxes and hydrangeas for later in the season. There will be lusty pinks…

…and delicate, light pinks.

I’ll skip magenta because I wrote a love letter to that neon hue in 2014.

JUNE will be purple. Riots often break out about what purple means (for the record it comes from the Greek word porphura, for little murex sea snails that bleed that dark crimson ‘purple’ dye). So let me say June will be about lilac-purple..

.. through lavender-purple…

… into violet-purple…

Erectile Dysfunction (ED) is portrayed with men’s failure to achieve the stronger and longer erection at the time of having any sexual cheap viagra canada interaction. The essential element of normal way of sildenafil india price life of patients with rheumatoid arthritis. Now a days there are numerous therapies tadalafil cheap prices solutions for male impotence. This can affect a woman’s desire for sex but there are cialis tadalafil 20mg ways to overcome these small problems.