The Desert Mallow is tentatively blooming. Most of the buds are still tightly furled, but a few brave buds have burst open in all their orange glory. This is a wild flower here in Northern Nevada, although this one has decided to become a permanent resident of my herb bed. I thought they re-seeded every year, but, apparently, given water and food, they can become a perennial. I wish they smelled as pretty as their little one inch blooms look, but, alas, they pretty much stink. But the bugs love them, and when the winds are calm, bees, flies, and wasps of all kinds flock to these flowers in droves. If there are any volunteers this year, I should plant them where I would like to grow squash. So far, to get any fruit set, I've had to hand pollinate both zukes and yellow squash.
Hand pollinating can be relaxing and enjoyable, but sometimes, I'd just rather have Mother Nature take care of it. This second photo depicts some of the still tightly curled Desert Mallow buds. In a few more weeks, there could be hundreds of bright orange flowers - but for the moment, there are less than a dozen of them.
Other plants that are growing and even blooming, in spite of a long, cold, dreary spring include my upright rosemary and the tough as nails bearded irises. Herbs are also doing well - especially the oregano, its cousin, sweet marjoram, and the lemon balm. The lemon balm enjoys this weather so much that many seeds from last year have germinated and are working on their first and second set of leaves.
Although the apple trees survived our extra brutal winter this year, only the two Fuji's bloomed with any vigor. The Gala had less than one dozen flowers. Since the Gala is the cross-pollinator for the Fuji's, and visa versa, there chances are pretty slim that we will have apples this year. Add to the fact that they bloomed during a cold, windy week at the beginning of May when the bees were still sleepy means the chances are really about none. Inspection of the trees confirm this. At least the three young trees seem to have survived the winter. The old tree of unknown parentage that my husband saved from the house-builder's bulldozer, however, does not look like it will survive this brutal spring season. I continue to water her as if she were going to live - but if not, then this summer she will become something else. I recently saw a book on wooden buttons. Maybe some of her branches will be reincarnated that way. And her gnarled trunk might warm our house as firewood. And, of course, I have my photos of her. But for now, I encourage her with water, food and words.
Still, as the matron apple tree appears to decline, there are young, fresh plants just beginning their journey. Seven sunflowers in Bed 2 are up and about with large leaves patiently waiting for the hot summer sun. 15 more are barely out of the ground on the west side of the garden - planted under chicken wire, and hidden by dried weeds to thwart the hungry birds. They are planted on the west side, because, invariably, a sunflower will face the morning sun when it prepares to set seed.
Same bee, but got her walking on the sunflower this time. Look at her hind leg, stuffed with pollen. (Looks like a large, yellow blob slightly above the wing on the left (her right).)
Something laid her eggs on this tomato plant a few days ago. Yesterday they were a jade green color, but it was too windy to take photos. Today they look clear. Could their inhabitants have hatched? They are about the size of a "seed bead."
Corn is growing like a weed. It got a light dose of fresh chicken bedding, and seems to be thriving from it. Too much fresh chicky-poo tends to burn the roots of plants, but I think the corn likes it. The corn is about 18 inches tall in this photo. I still can't believe we may have corn in another month. It is growing several inches a day, however, so I'm beginning to believe...
Eight Ball zucchini baby in bed 3. Got 100 percent germination out of the seed, but the heat conspired to kill several, so now I only have 3 plants - which, since they are zukes, could be a blessing!
Genovese basil front and center, and a little Lettuce Leaf basil to the right. Smells delightful when watering the garden by moonlight.
Dark Opal basil - yes, I know I'm not supposed to let it bloom, but it's just so pretty, that each year I end up letting it go. As a result, of course, the plants aren't as bushy - sending it's energy into flower production instead of producing leaves.
Rosemary, smells so divine. I have yet to find a trailing kind like they have at the Corporate Offices where I often travel to for work. And, I've never been successful getting one to live through the winter - but it's still worth the few dollars I spend to buy a new one each year.Beans did not survive the heat and the drying winds.
Transplanted bearded irises starting to put on some real growth. Maybe they really will bloom next year.
Ok, couldn't help myself. This is the chicky that my granddaughter has decreed is "The Princes Chicken." We have no idea what type she might be. She isn't anything we ordered - but she's cute and has attitude, so we like her. I wonder if she will lay white eggs?
One of the nice things about having a large garden as opposed to a small farm is that it only takes 15 minutes to plant out a bed of beans and there are no tractor requirements. And only 15 minutes to plant out 3 tomato babies.
The scapes were barely reaching for the sun and the buds just beginning to fill out when I left my little plot of sand to spend the weekend in California. What a lovely site to return to. 
Bearded Irises are among my favorite flowers. They are heat and drought resistant, can take sub-freezing winters and have silky, delicate looking flowers in a rainbow of colors.
