Let's follow Baron as he wanders thru the various garden plots around our home on the hill. Maybe I should have called it Happy Hosta Heaven!
Being of the rather organized and meticulous German heritage that I am, it sort of surprises that I didn't keep any records of these beautiful plants. Seeing a new or an empty spot, I would fill it with a hosta. No plan. No strategy. No name. Just like the garden and landscaping books DON'T recommend. Oh well..... I must admit it, I like the limestone walls which showcase the hostas.
"What kind is it?" some visitors ask. "Pretty isn't it," I usually respond. Maybe they think that's the name?
There are more right around the bend.
The bleeding hearts surround Mr. Hosta. They are both so care free.
This small hosta will be a giant someday, four ft. high and across. It was given me by neighbor Angie. Trading garden plants is such fun!
In the evening, sometimes we get the haunted hosta look.Well, I see I have some spent bloom stalks to cut off. A hosta gardeners work is never done. :) Just kidding. You can see though, troutbirder does love his hostas.