Tall Flowers of Summer

If Spring is the exciting infancy of Nature's year, Summer is the lanky teenage phase - somewhat untidy, and marked by surprising growth spurts that seem to happen overnight. It's the time of year when inconspicuous knee-high plants start behaving like the weeds they are, and suddenly the fields are full of flowers taller than I am.

Here are some of my favorite wildflowers of late July and early August, ranging in size from shin-deep to waist-high to tilt-my-head-back-tallness.

Blue vervain has become much more widespread the last few summers. This photo was taken at the edge of a large field completely covered with its blossoms:

Ironweed brings bright pops of color to the roadside:

Also growing by leaps and bounds is this field of corn that I pass on my way to work:

Along the river trail, the knapweed is several feet tall:

With Queen Anne's Lace not far behind:

On a Saturday ride I spy tall purple loosestrife blooming amidst a cloud of knapweed gone to seed:

A bee works busily among nearby goldenrod:

In the marsh, I find a new-to-me flower with a charming name - white meadowsweet:

And feathery blossoms of Joe-Pye-weed:

Many miles later I stop at a favorite wildlife area to see what's blooming this year, and wade through swathes of waist-high wild bergamot to snap this photo:

Flowers growing here include button eryngo:

Coneflower (Ratibida):

And the aforementioned wild bergamot, the thickest I've ever seen:

On the way home I pass a long stretch of extra-fuzzy hare's-foot clover, aka rabbit-foot clover. At less than knee-high, these are the shortest flowers in this post:

What are your favorite flowers at this time of year?

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Snapshots from July (and June)

Time has been rolling past, as it ever does, and somehow I've let six weeks' worth of ride photos build up without blogging any of them! I have no excuse, and will offer none. Let's look at wildflowers instead.

Here is some stately spiderwort, with a cloud of yarrow in the background:

Cheerful daisies growing wild in a field:

Dainty crown vetch:

And regal hoary vetch:

Bright hoary puccoon:

And, just for a change, a beautiful double rainbow that appeared between passing storms:

Back to the flowers. This beauty rejoices in the name of hoary vervain:

(On a side note, why hoary? Why not something more euphonious, like fuzzy or fleecy or woolly?)

Here's a lovely wheatfield that I pass on my way to work:

Starlike St. John's wort:

Glorious orange milkweed:

Snowy viburnum:

Knapweed:

One of the many varieties of wild sunflower:

A gorgeous combination of daylily and hoary vetch:

Wild bergamot (the Phyllis Diller of flowers, I always think):

Common milkweed:

The humble soapwort, or Bouncing Bet:

Fleabane:

And one of my favourites, delicate whorled milkweed:

Life isn't all wildflowers all the time, hence this photo of Amish hay-gathering:

And now, back to our scheduled programming. This is rudbeckia, or black-eyed Susan:

Though we've had some brutally hot and humid weather this month, there have also been refreshing days of halcyon blue-and-white skies. This was one of them:

The next little plant is the charmingly-named heal-all:

A favourite bend in the road:

This tiny flower has a name much bigger than itself - pointed-leaf tick trefoil, or Desmodium glutinosum:

This is a new-to-me wildflower called common kidney vetch:

This might be coreopsis:

And this, of course, is Iris the bike:

Butter-and-eggs, anyone?

Another of my favourite flowers, wild chicory:

My last photo is for the train-lovers among us:

Whew! All caught up now.

How is July treating you?

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Early Rides and a New Pattern

Hello readers! Last time I posted, we were gearing up for Christmas, and now - so swiftly does time fly when one is having fun - spring has sprung. (And then, of course, it changed its mind and retreated. No surprises there.)

In January we had a bit of this, though not nearly as much as we needed:

February surprised us all with balmy weather and the very early return of robins, Canada geese, and sandhill cranes. And this:

A February bike commute!

Hello, river trail:

Nice to see you floating over my shoulder, February moon:

And if that weren't treat enough, a week later this happened:

Another February bike commute - in shorts. I still can't quite believe it. Passing drivers were doubtless shielding their eyes from the glare of my legs, and I'm sure I heard Tallulah the Turtle mutter something about needing sunglasses, but no matter. It was glorious.

Unusually mild weather continued, leading to more rides in early March:

Now, alas, we're back to clouds and cold weather, with snow and spitting rain, but we press on undaunted. Spring has shown its mettle, and warmth and sunshine will return soon. Meanwhile, I solace myself with fresh chives and tarragon from the doorstep planter, for they too came back early this year.

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In other news, I've just published a new pattern! Meet the Squirreltail shawl:

Note: Pattern links will take you to my Ravelry store; you don't need to be a Ravelry member to buy a pattern there. If you're not comfortable using Ravelry, and you live in the US, you can contact me via email, or use the contact form at right, to request a pattern purchase through Paypal Goods and Services.

Squirreltail is a triangular shawl featuring modular sections worked Log-Cabin-style in varying stitch patterns, outlined with a striking embellishment technique that loops tall stitches together for a beautifully textural result. The braided-look embellishment rows, together with a rich edging of treble fans, evoke the wild grass for which the pattern is named. Squirreltail is suitable for solids, tonals, or long gradients. Choose a fingering or sportweight yarn.

The pattern is a doozy (and a good part of the reason I haven't blogged since December): 19 pages long, with charts and written instructions for two sizes, plus illustrations, link to a videotutorial, and extensive tips for customizing your shawl size.

The small (gradient) version was worked in Hobbii Azalea, a stranded sport weight cotton/acrylic yarn, color 07 Berry Rose. The shawl used about 862 yards, and measures 52" at the top edge x 25 1/2" at deepest point after blocking. This yarn was soft and pleasant to work with, though a bit splitty (as are all stranded yarns), and the finished shawl is drapey and comfortable. I've enjoyed wearing this version.

The large (grey) version was worked in Cascade Yarns Heritage Sock, a fingering weight superwash merino wool/nylon blend in color 5742 Silver Grey, a lovely tonal. Heritage Sock is a nicely springy yarn, and gives good stitch definition. The finished sample used about 1251 yards, and measures 68" x 31" after blocking. This shawl is so warm and cuddly, and I look forward to wearing it next winter.

I blocked both shawls by spritzing them with water to dampen, letting them sit for a little while so the moisture could permeate the yarn, then gently stretching them out on blocking mats to open the lace, using blocking wires and pins to keep them in shape as they dried. Both yarns blocked beautifully.

You can find the Squirreltail pattern here in my Ravelry store. Readers of this blog can enjoy 40% off the pattern through April 2, 2024, with code WILDGRASS at checkout.

Speaking of wild grass, here is the one that inspired this pattern's name:

Squirreltail (Elymus elymoides),
a wild rye. Photo copyright
My-Lan Le, used under
Creative Commons License CC-BY

Now that this pattern is off my plate, I hope to blog more often!

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Northern Hemisphere readers, was your winter unusually mild? Did spring arrive early where you live?

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