An old foundation filled to brimming with day lily blossoms at Rosslyn.
Lest the glories of midsummer be eclipsed by boat lift blues and lemon generators, I’d like to dazzle you with blossoms. I’m hoping to follow up this day lily daze with another shortly, the next leaning more toward whites and pinks and purples. But today we start with more familiar hues and patterns.
This summer has offered a king’s bounty in colorful flowers. Must be something about all that rain in May and June, and all of that humid heat in July. Lush foliage, quasi tropical growth and vibrant blooms. Many a day lily in our beds have rocketed as tall as I am! I’ve never witnessed a 6’2″ day lily before.
Day Lily Exotica vs. Nostalgia
I can’t resist the ever-more exotic color combinations available for hybrid lilies, but the oranges and reds and browns and yellows still win for me. Earthy. Rustic. And imbued with nostalgia for youth and meadows wandered. Hiking in the Adirondacks this time of year “wild” day lilies are reliable evidence that a now wooded in depression in the forest once once a homestead. A bridge across time. A gardener’s best friend. Mouse over (or click on) any of the day lily photographs below to read the caption. Enjoy…
A familiar day lily blossom at Rosslyn.
A flush or garnet and safron among the day lily blossoms at Rosslyn.
Honey and burgundy among Rosslyn’s day lily blossoms.
Day Lily Posts Across the Interwebs
Turns out I’m not alone in my praise for the day lily. Especially at this peak of summer moment. Here are a few others’ looks at nature’s fireworks:
We are lucky. In so many ways we are lucky. But this spring we are especially fortunate because Rosslyn boathouse is dry. Lake Champlain water levels are low. Our waterfront weathered winter — what winter there was — and spring without incurring the destructive flooding which tormented us a year ago.
The dock is in. The ski runabout is in. The Adirondack chairs are lined up along the waterfront. The beach and lawn and gardens are recovering from last spring’s endless inundation.
But all is not forgotten. Fully half of Rosslyn’s waterfront, maybe more, remains a boulder piled mess. Thousands of pounds of stone rip-rap installed last spring to stabilize NYS Rt. 22 buried two hundred year old cut stone retaining walls.
Kathryn Cramer photographs flooded boathouse
But we are rebuilding. Slowly. Steadily recovering from the 2011 Lake Champlain floods.
In recognition of our current good fortune, and as an incense infused offering to the weather gods, I’ve compiled some snippets from blog posts past chronicling the anxious weeks-turned-months of flooding that Rosslyn boathouse endured.
I hope you’ll enjoy looking backward into the soggy past, even if for no other reason than the our boathouse is currently dry, high above Lake Champlain’s surface! For me, these words and images inspire a deep sigh of relief.
April 28: Lake Champlain Flood Defies History
According to this USGS data for Lake Champlain we’re making history. To be more precise, Lake Champlain’s water levels are making history… I can assure you that Rosslyn boathouse is now swamped… I’m worried that heavy wave action combined with a large floating log or two acting as a battering ram against the boathouse superstructure could be devastating. (Boathouse Needs a Snorkel)
April 28: Flooding Closes Essex-Charlotte Ferry
Of course, if the ferry dock is under water, then Rosslyn boathouse isn’t far behind! As of mid-morning today, the water had risen about 6″ above the floor boards… So far the winds have remained low, minimizing boathouse damage from large logs and other flotsam surging against the dock, railings and walls. (Essex-Charlotte Ferry Flooded Out)
April 29: Waterfront Damaged, Boathouse Okay
Most of the drama surrounds the boathouse, especially since we’ve worked long and hard to restore it to health and happiness. But the waterfront is another big concern. Major erosion already, and that’s with relatively light wind and minimal wave action. Big wind and big waves could be catastrophic… Although we haven’t finished landscaping the entire waterfront, roughly a third (about 80′) looked great up until a few days ago. We’ve rebuilt the stone walls and planted a lawn on the terrace above the beach. The rear edge of the lawn, following the base of the next stone terrace had grown into a handsome day lily bed that stretched the full eighty feet. Spectacular in summer. Now virtually erased by drift wood grinding and churning in the waves. All hand planted. All pampered through the first season. All healthy and thriving earlier this week. All gone now. Memories. I can only hope that some of the bulbs are intact, floating around Lake Champlain, and that they will wash up on people’s beaches and surprise them this summer with heirloom blooms! (Lake Champlain vs. Rosslyn Boathouse)
May 1: Boathouse Submerged, Precautions Taken
Two sections of aluminum docking had gotten twisted and battered by waves and floating logs, and this morning the larger of the two had been knocked over the lowest stone retaining wall and lay upended on the submerged beach. Because the water’s now over my head on the beach and my waders only reach up to my chest, I had to work carefully from the terrace above the beach, slowly hauling the dock back up, waves and gravity working against me.
George Davis in Rosslyn boathouse on May 16, 2011, photo credit Kathryn Cramer
Before recovering the docks I waded through the boathouse. We’re no longer able to shut the main door because the water has swollen the bottom half too much to fit in the doorjamb. The water’s now thirteen inches deep inside, covering the first step and part of the second step leading up to the second floor. The two louvered doors leading out to the pier on the lake side had been battered all night by the waves, and the hinges were ripping. The temporary fastener we’d used to secure the doors was gauging the waterlogged wood. I released the doors and opened them wide, holding one side back with a rope and the other side back with a large stone. Now the water is surging through the inside of the boathouse, still tugging the doors against their restraints, but hopefully the damage will be less severe with them open. (Need a Hand?)
May 13: Flood Undermines Road and Waterfront
I’m still soggy and still anxious about the waves rolling through the interior of the boathouse and crashing against the rapidly eroding bank supporting Route 22, but I’m beginning to see that the glass is half full after all. And Lake Champlain? It’s still overfull! (Re-roofing and Flood Proofing)
June 1: Emergency Measures to Save Road
Stephen Phillips field sketch and notes of Rosslyn shoreline/road condition
The good news is that the [boathouse] structure remains sound, and damage so far has been minimal. Unfortunately we identified increasing surface mold… green, gray and black fuzzy mold!
Beneath the water level inside and outside, everything is covered in slippery, green algae… all of the surfaces that have been saturated for the better part of two months. And until the water level falls another 18″ or so, we’ll need to continue monitoring the waterfront from large debris, trees, etc. Constant vigilance and quick log wrangling has saved the structure significant damage so far…
New York State DOT engineers [determined that road/waterfront] erosion was far more severe… completely eliminating most of the embankment and undermining the road. The pavement began to crack in deep fissures running parallel to the lake as the weight of the road caused it to settle and slough.
The remedy involved 250 tons — approximately ten tandem dump truck loads — of riprap dumped over the side of the road to arrest further erosion and stabilize the road… The DOT is continuing to monitor the road to determine whether or not additional stabilization will be necessary. In the event that the road continues to settle, the next step will be to install a steel sheet pile retaining wall… but we are hoping against hope that it will not be necessary to mar this historic waterfront with a steel retaining wall. (Friends, Flooding and Photos)
June 13: Architect Visits Flooded Boathouse
Edward Pais was a classmate of mine at Deerfield Academy from 1986 to 1990, and he now practices architecture in Burlington, Vermont… he’s offered ongoing feedback about our boathouse during the Lake Champlain flooding. Recently he offered to come over and take a look… Ed’s reaction was encouraging, and despite pushing him into engineering territory a couple of times, I mostly listened and took mental notes… Ed’s recommendation to quickly and aggressively treat the mold situation was highlighted in a follow-up message after his visit. He suggested that we should remove the baseboards to inspect for mold… (Ed Pais visits Rosslyn Boathouse)
June 27: Toppling Tree Endangers Boathouse
The good news is that flooding is abating. Rapidly. In fact the water’s “fallen” to normal spring flood stage… Which means that we’re finally catching up on the damaged waterfront, repairing the boathouse, installing docks and boat hoist, etc. You may remember that large ash tree was undermined by the flood and was beginning to topple down over top of the boathouse. Not good. You may also remember that local arborist Mark Sauslgiver decided to install a tension line from high in the tree to the guardrail north of the boathouse. The idea was that in the event the trees roots gave way and the tree toppled, the line would pull the falling tree northward, sparing the boat house.
Ash tree undermined by 2011 Lake Champlain flood was removed to prevent damage to Rosslyn boathouse.
I liked the idea. Sounded good. Looked good when I drew a little diagram on paper. But, I’d be lying if I claimed that I was 100% confident it would work. That’s a big tree, and I had a difficult time imagining a static line enduring a fall much less staying taught and pulling thousands of pounds of gravity-fueled ash anywhere other than straight down. On top of the boathouse, the pier, and the railings. But, turns out Mark knew his tension lines.
Today his crew removed the tree, piece by piece, sending massive chunks of wood down a “zip line” to the curb or New York State Route 22 where they could be cut up and/or chipped. The entire affair was a success!
I’m deeply saddened to lose a mature, healthy tree that offered much appreciated shade in the heat of summer and served as a charming frame for images of the boathouse. But I am overjoyed that the tree was removed before gravity won. And I’ve been assured that sooner or later it would. (Rosslyn Boathouse Free from Toppling Ash)
With Lake Champlain retreating, Rosslyn boathouse intact and our waterfront recovering, the summer of 2011 finally began to get under way. And we’ve been making up for lost time ever sine! If you’re passing through Essex this summer, drop me a note and we’ll celebrate!
At first I thought it was a mushroom. So many have covered Rosslyn’s lawns in recent weeks. Small, delicate, off-white mushrooms that look as if they escaped from a fantasy story. Or droopy, brown capped mushrooms like you might’ve drawn as a child. And sometimes these round globe mushrooms emerge overnight. Some are small, lacrosse ball small, and others grow nearly as large as volleyballs. The day before there was nothing but soggy, green grass. And then, magically, a lily white ghost fungus appears. Or an armada of lily white ghosts…
This morning, while inspecting our young orchard with Griffin, I spied what I initially expected to be a newborn lacrosse ball mushroom.
My spirits (and vision) were inevitably soggy. It’s been raining for weeks. In fact, with a few rare exceptions it seems to have rained ever since we returned from the desert southwest in late May. I’ve shared with you the emotional roller coaster of the Lake Champlain lake level which after weeks of rising now [crossing fingers, arms, legs and eyes] appears to have crested.
I’ll save the water drama details for another post. The broken boat lift. The sunken dock. Our ski boat tethered to submerged docks at the marina. A vegetable garden better suited to rice farming. And I haven’t told you about the fact that Rosslyn’s basement flooded several weeks ago. And then again a week later. I may. In time. For now I’m cultivating amnesia. It’s been that bad, especially when the weekly weather forecasts promise more of the same. Rain, rain, rain.
So this morning, after feeding Griffin, I headed out to the meadow behind the carriage barn to check and see how the vegetable garden and orchard were surviving in the rain.
Short answer? Not well!
The garden is a swamp, eutrophying with thigh high weeds. It’s difficult to distingish eggplants and peppers and tomatoes from weeds. A swampy jungle. A miniature rain forest. For some reason the corn seems to be the least weed infested area, but the cucumbers and zucchini and melons and leeks are totally obscured in unwelcome and uninvited but thriving invasive foliage. The almost insurmountable task of weeding out the entire bed is trumped only by the fact that another 10 days of rain if forecasted before we’ll be able to get in and do much of anything. Enticing scenario.
Apple tree browsed by deer
And if that’s not discouraging enough, there are other surprises to be had in the orchard. I recently opted to remove all of the deer cages around the fruit trees. Several of the trees have literally outgrown their cages, but the main reason I removed them was to make ongoing weeding and pruning easier. I hadn’t detected any deer in the backyard since winter, and Griffin has been undertaking a twice daily (each morning and evening) urinary tour of the orchard and vegetable garden.
But it turns out I was overly optimistic.
The deer, too wise to fool, took advantage. A half-dozen young apple trees have been browsed. I’m optimistic that they will recover, but the damage is severe. They’ve eaten not only most of the foliage, but almost all of the new growth, and even most of the young scaffold branches.
Mysterious speckled egg upon closer inspection, shell broken.
So, with a heavy heart and frenzied fingers I begin to “stroll” through Amazon via my iPhone app, looking for organic deer deterrents. Distracted. Wandering. Then I discovered the mysterious speckled egg. That’s right, what at first eluded me as a mushroom born of too much rain, turned out to be a large eggshell. I say large, but in truth it’s only large for the sort of eggshells I usually see around the yard in the spring. Songbirds, robins, etc. I did see several beautiful sky blue robin eggs this spring, but this speckled eggshell was slightly larger then a chicken egg. The coloring is relatively accurate in the photograph: slightly off-white, maybe closer to café au lait than the white of a puffball, and speckled. Small brown markings dapple the surface. I assume the mystery bird had already hatched as the shell was empty, though only a small area of the underside of the egg was broken away. It was sitting in the middle of the grass, in the middle of the orchard.
What sort of bird hatched from it? Where had it gone. Was it safe and sound and dry? Or perhaps the shell was dropped here by a crow after a protein-rich brunch…
It occurs to me that it might be the egg of a duck, one of the many mallard families which congregate along our waterfront. Or a member of the family of mallard ducklings I photographed in our years earlier this spring. Or a merganser…
I don’t know, but something about this fragile symbol of beginning countered my damp spirits. And for that I am exceptionally grateful.
Wild Turkey Egg?
Guinea Egge, Turkey Eggs & Peafowl Egg
Many thanks to Katie Shepard for her sleuthing. She lead me to this comparison of eggs image which shows an egg that looks suspiciously similar to the shell I found. In the photograph, the brownish egg on the far left is from a guinea hen, and the egg on the far right if from a peafowl. But those two middle eggs are from turkeys. The larger turkey egg with well pronounced brown speckles is a ringer!
And given our high population of wild turkeys, even after the kamikaze turkey episode, it makes plenty of sense that this egg hatched a baby wild turkey. Just yesterday morning I startled four large turkey that were right next to our back deck, looking for breakfast among the zinnias.
Rosslyn boathouse is flooded (6:00am April, 29, 2011)
We knew it would happen sooner or later. But like so many inevitable but dreaded events, we’d wrapped ourselves in a warm comforter of denial. And four springs slipped quickly past since purchasing Rosslyn without the boathouse getting flooded. Sure, we’ve had plenty of high water, but the water’s never risen above the floorboards. In fact, the highest it had ever gotten was about 9-12″ below the floorboards!
Not this year. Lake Champlain‘s water level has risen quickly in recent weeks due in part to seasonal spring melt after an extremely snowy winter and spring. But spring rains are the real culprit. Lots and lots and lots of rain. We’ve been watching day by day as the water crept up, reassuring ourselves that it must be cresting soon… Only it wasn’t. It’s still rising. About another 5″ inches since yesterday afternoon, bringing it to about one foot in the last 24 hours. That’s fast! But slow enough for us to clear out the items that don’t play well with water. Which put a dent in Doug’s carpentry work upstairs, finishing up the trim and oiling the fir. We also had to shut down all electric. Which makes for a dark and eerie lair in the evening. A bit like a flooded tunnel. Interesting photos though…
Most of the drama surrounds the boathouse, especially since we’ve worked long and hard to restore it to health and happiness. But the waterfront is another big concern. Major erosion already, and that’s with relatively light wind and minimal wave action. Big wind and big waves could be catastrophic! Hoping against hope that the wind will remain calm and the waters will fall. Help me hope if you’ve got psychic horsepower to spare. Although we haven’t finished landscaping the entire waterfront, roughly a third (about 80′) looked great up until a few days ago. We’ve rebuilt the stone walls and planted a lawn on the terrace above the beach. The rear edge of the lawn, following the base of the next stone terrace had grown into a handsome daylily bed that stretched the full eighty feet. Spectacular in summer. Now virtually erased by drift wood grinding and churning in the waves. All hand planted. All pampered through the first season. All healthy and thriving earlier this week. All gone now. Memories. I can only hope that some of the bulbs are intact, floating around Lake Champlain, and that they will wash up on people’s beaches and surprise them this summer with heirloom blooms!
In the time it took me to whip up this post, the USGS has changed the Lake Champlain water level from 102.54″ to 102.61″ which happened over an interval of about three hours. So, still not cresting. And the sky has gone from sunny and clear to dark and cloudy. Storm clouds threatening. Wind rising…
White day lilies with violet “freckles” in Rosslyn’s breakfast room garden.
Purple day lilies with chartreuse yellow center in Rosslyn’s breakfast room garden.
Another installment of Rosslyn day lilies, these beauties leaning toward the exotic a bit more than yesterday’s “tiger lilies”. I had hoped to photograph several other dramatic varieties as well, but the recent heat and dry weather have taken their toll, and the blooms have passed their prime. No matter. Others will soon bloom!
I will soon share a gallery of images from the carriage barn roof repairs. We initiated this project 1-2 years ago, but a parade of setbacks (including the need to first undertake structural repairs and stabilization) delayed replacement of the failing asphalt shingles with a standing seam steel roof. Soon – super soon, as my visiting nieces would say – I hope to announce that both the ice house and carriage barn have matching standing seam roofs. The work was supposed to be completed today, after an impressive 4-day (two back-to-back weekends) project.
Following in the wake of so many endless, deadline-busting Rosslyn rehabilitation projects, it has been refreshing to witness such an efficient turn-around. I’ll save the detailed chronicle for another post (once the new roof is 100% complete), but for now I hail the hard working crew who endured blazing heat and even some rain to see this project through on schedule. Almost…
As they wrapped up today, they discovered that they were one section short. After an enormous roof, the two massive spools of steel that fed into the “bending machine” ran out. The final 18″ or so, on the northeast end of the carriage barn remains exposed this evening. I’m confident that the missing material will arrive soon and the roof will be done.
But until then, I salve any frustrations I may feel over the delay with the spectacular gardens, ablaze with drama and visual song. Thank you, day lilies!
It’s been a few days – sun soaked daylily days – since I’ve shared photographs of our daily daylily surprise. So now it’s time to catch up.
The gallery below includes a few of my recent favorites. I’ve captioned them with simple but revealing hints at what appeals to me about each daylily blossom.
Daylily vs. Day Lily
I’ve been asked by several people why I write “day lily” as two words and not as one. Apparently many gardeners consider it a free variant? Perhaps I’m mistaken? Today I’ll use the single word to balance my previous posts, and to salvage my fragile reputation as a gardening wordsmith. Perhaps in the future I’ll resort to Hemerocallis…)
The Enchanting Daylily
The gallery below includes a few of my recent favorites. I’ve captioned them with simple but revealing hints at what appeals to me about each daylily blossom.
With summer in full swing, daylilies deliver a perennially entertaining floral cabaret. I suspect that it’s humanly impossible to resist their charms!
But there’s something more, something less obvious that appeals to me.
Abundance
If you’ve ever enjoyed the good fortune of a vast buffet, perhaps a brunch smorgasbord too vast that you couldn’t possibly try every delicacy that tempts you, then you have an inkling of the feeling I get when confronted daily with exciting new daylily blossoms.
While North Country living has renewed my pursuit of simplicity, we all experience a childlike wave of enthusiasm when confronted with a vast array of enticing possibilities. The “child in a candy store” metaphor rarely needs explanation…
The heart quickens, perhaps after leapfrogging a beat. The eyes widen and the pupils dilate. Breathing becomes shallower. Perhaps our tongues water and our stomach rumbles.
It is a sense of plenty. Of potential decadence, pleasurable even if we have the restraint to temper it. It is the allure of excess and the exotic. It is an invitation to ask, “What if?”
For me, this gastronomic cascade of physical and emotional responses is similar to what I experience when I gaze at an unfamiliar new daylily blossom.
Infinity
There is also an only slightly concealed magic in daylilies. They rise and fall with the season, expanding and spreading, enduring, returning after their mortality is affirmed by autumn’s chill year after year.
In the early spring there is nothing. Bare earth covered in mulch. Then in early summer a tender, pale green shoot begins to grow almost as you watch it, stretching up toward the sun’s warmth. And then this riot of colorful blooms. Blossoms which often last for days.
And even as the petals fall and the colors yield to the lush green leaves, their is such a font of vitality in a daylily clump. They fortify themselves, absorbing nutrients and sunshine and moisture, promising in Technicolor oration to return again next year, fuller, healthier, prettier.
And sure enough, they never fail. They never abandon us. They always return. Better than the year before. Year after year. For decades. Perhaps centuries.
In short, we get a glimpse at immortality in these loyal garden spirits. We are reminded to dream beyond the next freeze, to have hope beyond the next end of life.
Not too shabby for a bunch of gnarled roots that even the most amateur gardener can propagate with little risk of failure! All hail the daylily!
