New Beginnings

The Jewish New Year is always in the fall, which seems appropriate for a desert-dwelling people. My husband has observed that in the Phoenix area, we ought to have our own version of Groundhog Day in late summer. If Prairie Dog Pete comes out of his burrow and survives long enough to cast a shadow, we'll have six more weeks of summer...or something like that. In any event, today is semi-overcast and the temperature was down in the 80s this morning, so I have hope that cooler days are ahead!

Our "Arizona Backyard Eden" looks more like "Arizona Backyard Hades" right now, with leaves on rosebushes and fruit trees scorched. Most vegetables and flowers have long since given up trying to survive, although a lone Japanese eggplant looks pretty healthy, and basil is thriving. There are a few spots of color from portulaca and vinca on our north patio. We've been working on the never-ending task of clearing out Bermuda grass from the raised beds in preparation for fall planting, which begins in September and continues into early October. For anyone who's interested, here's a link to a PDF of the planting calendar we use.

My attempts to start tomato plants from seed several weeks ago were unsuccessful. I couldn't find the peat-pot refills for the Jiffy indoor greenhouse system I prefer for starting seeds indoors, so I tried starting them, along with peppers and cilantro, in regular potting soil outdoors. Although the seeds sprouted in their sheltered location on the north patio, I missed a day hand-watering them, and that was the end of that. So we bought tomato transplants, put them in the beds closest to the north patio, and put portable shade structures over them. We also have yellow squash coming up in the same area, and I planted bush beans a few days ago in the second-shadiest area of the yard. I finally found one peat-pot refill at Lowe's, so we now have broccoli and cauliflower seeds sprouting indoors. They should be ready to transplant by mid-September, and by then we should be able to plant sugar snap peas along with various kinds of lettuces.

The anticipated end of the long, hot, and dry summer is upon us, beauty will return to our backyard garden, and it will soon be enjoyable to spend time outdoors again. The change of seasons reminds me that although I may experience (and should expect) periods of discontent and spiritual dryness in my life, these are not the permanent state of my inner landscape.

"There is no journey gone so far we cannot stop and change directions,
No doom is written in the stars. It's in our hands.
We cannot know what will occur
Just make the journey worth the taking
And pray we're wiser than we were
In the beginning"

Summertime blahs

Summer is not my favorite time in the garden. It's too hot to work for more than a few minutes at a time, and it's a constant battle to make sure everything is getting enough water. We have a fairly sophisticated drip/minisprayer system, but drip irrigation is never maintenance-free. Drips get plugged and don't put out adequate water, or a sprayer works loose from its stake and sprays in the wrong direction, so we're constantly repairing and trying to improve the system.

The corn is going to be a disappointment, I'm afraid. Some of the silks have already turned brown and are not filled out, so I would say our experiment with hand-pollination was unsuccessful. Most of the pole beans died as a result of an emitter-failure that went undetected for a couple of weeks, and the surviving ones have no beans. I think it may be too hot for the pollen to be active now. Although we have several squash plants, I can see only one squash growing, and a couple of smallish Japanese eggplants. Tomato plants still have fruit, although they probably won't set any more this summer- too hot for them. There are a handful of blackberries and blueberries left, and our June-fruiting peach tree has a half-dozen peaches.

Sometimes all you can do is keep on keeping on- five minutes at a time weeding, checking for those plants that need supplemental water, and wait for the weather to cool off!

Good Mulch

If you miss two weeks in the garden, you miss a lot, and that's how long I've been away from it. Larkspur, hollyhock, bachelor's button, sweet alyssum, black-eyed susans, yarrow, and Gloriosa daisies have faded and gone to seed, which the birds are enjoying. Surprisingly there are a few petunias and snapdragons still blooming. Without my daily walks through the garden to pull up the tall dandelion-like weeds, they have multiplied exponentially. Some things are wilted because of malfunctioning drip irrigation emitters-checking the moisture status of plants and giving supplemental water when needed is another daily responsibility. However, nectarines, blackberries, and tomatoes are ripening, pole beans have started to produce, and the apple tree is bowed over by an abundance of fruit. Squash, melon, and cucumber plants look anemic and spindly...the spring flowers grew faster than the spring vegetables, and probably shaded them too much. The corn plants are producing tassels, and soon we will see if our hand-pollination efforts produce any edible ears.

We spent the morning pulling up flowers that were past their prime, and removing weeds and grass from the raised beds. This involved separating the dead flowers from the weeds as their remains will make a good mulch that also contains the seeds of next year's flowers. The weeds and grass have to go into the trash as we don't want their seeds spread around. (Unfortunately, quite a few of the ones that sprouted in my absence have already done that) There were a few surprises that were hidden until we removed the taller plants- tiny zinnia and snapdragon plants that sprouted from last year's seeds. After a run to Home Depot, I planted a few six-packs of vinca and portulaca in the most barren raised bed, scattered more zinnia and cosmos seeds, and topped it all off with two bags of mulch.

As I was pulling up plants and separating them into usable and nonusable piles, I was reminded of the parable Jesus told of the wheat and the tares:

Jesus told them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like a man who sowed good seed in his field. But while everyone was sleeping, his enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and went away. When the wheat sprouted and formed heads, then the weeds also appeared. The owner’s servants came to him and said, ‘Sir, didn’t you sow good seed in your field? Where then did the weeds come from? ‘An enemy did this,’ he replied. The servants asked him, ‘Do you want us to go and pull them up?’‘No,’ he answered, ‘because while you are pulling the weeds, you may uproot the wheat with them. Let both grow together until the harvest. At that time I will tell the harvesters: First collect the weeds and tie them in bundles to be burned; then gather the wheat and bring it into my barn.’”

This story probably came to my mind as I was working today because two recent events that occurred in close proximity have caused me to think about "the end of the age", or at least human mortality. In practical terms for the individual, I think the two are synonymous. First, there was a great deal of publicity about the May 21 Rapture prediction by Harold Camping, which of course, did not happen. Second, my younger sister suddenly and unexpectedly died due to a complication from a medication she took that was supposed to prolong her life, not take it. As "no man knows the day or the hour" of Jesus's return, so also no one knows when his or her life may end. I hope and I pray that my life will be the kind of "good mulch" that enriches the soil and contains the seeds that will one day grow into next spring's beautiful flowers.

Fresh Peaches- Get 'em while they last!

"As a father has compassion on his children, so the LORD has compassion on those who fear him; for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust. The life of mortals is like grass, they flourish like a flower of the field; the wind blows over it and it is gone, and its place remembers it no more."

I picked the last of the early peaches today, and there are only a couple of apricots left. We had fewer than usual this year because of the timing of the last freeze, and I probably could have gotten more if I'd been more aggressive about picking them before the birds got to them. We've tried using netting in the past to protect them from bird incursions, but it's somewhat cumbersome, not wholly effective, and I don't really mind sharing with the birds. If I get to eat all the tree-ripened fresh peaches I want, why should I mind if the birds enjoy a few as well?

Such a short season- two weeks maybe- for fresh peaches. But, so many things in life are transitory, and how often do we miss enjoying the present while worrying about, or trying to control, the future? Perhaps we should just enjoy- and share- the peaches while we can.

On change

"To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven".

The view is changing from where I sit in the gazebo. Corn stalks now rise higher than the spikes of larkspur, and we just enjoyed the first peaches from our early-bearing tree. Apricots will be next, within a week or so, along with Early Girl tomatoes, and I might even try to pick a blueberry or two this week. Nasturtiums, sweet peas, California poppy, and backelor's button are almost all spent now, the honeysuckle has completed its blooming cycle, and the roses are not as full of blossoms as they were a few weeks ago, but coreopsis, calendula, galliardia, zinnia, marigolds, and several sunflower-family annuals are taking their place.

The raised beds are so full of color I can't see much in the way of dirt underneath the plants, which is the way I like them. Tecoma bushes, which were killed off to the ground by this winter's hard freeze, have reached a height of two or three feet already and are covered with bright yellow blooms. Right now there's a small finch enjoying allysum seeds for breakfast, and several hummingbirds also visit on a regular basis.

There's a pleasantly cool breeze this morning after several very warm days- our backyard thermometer registered a high of 104 at one point last week. It's been difficult to keep some of the pots of annuals in full sunlight sufficiently watered by hand; we'll need to extend a drip line to them within the next few weeks if they are to survive. We were disappointed to notice yesterday that several grape clusters had withered almost overnight, and we're not sure what caused that.

This morning I started thinking about change, which we expect and welcome in the garden, but more often than not resist in our lives. In my garden, I enjoy the sights, smells, tastes, and sounds of each season knowing that they won't last forever. As the seasons change, so will our garden, and each season brings its own particular beauty and delights for the senses (well, maybe not so much midsummer here).

"Sunrise, sunset. Sunrise, sunset, swiftly fly the years. One season following another, laden with happiness and tears."

In the Garden

I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses. And the voice I hear, falling on my ear, the Son of God discloses...

In my seminary days, when I was younger, I never could understand the popularity of this old hymn. It didn't seem to be particularly Biblically-based or theologically accurate, so what was it doing in the hymnal? (I confess that I sometimes dealt with boring sermons by thumbing through the hymnal and analyzing the theology of the hymns therein.) Come, on? Dew on the roses? Voice of woe? What was that all about, anyway? But it was a favorite of my parents and grandparents, and I gained a greater appreciation for it when I read about the "story behind the song", which was the song was meant to express the thoughts and feelings of Mary Magdalene on that first Easter morning, when she found the tomb empty and encountered the risen Christ. That explanation of the song may be apocryphal, but that doesn't change its significance. Stories don't have to be factually correct to be true.

The hymn resonates with so many because it is not about theology or logic. Rather, it expresses emotion and longing for relationship and companionship with God. Now that I have my own garden, I too find myself drawn to come and sit and listen for the voice of God...and find that it is there.

"And he walks with me, and he talks with me, and He tells me I am His own. And the joy we share as we tarry there, none other has ever known."

Thoughts on the lilies of the field and birds of the air

It's a lovely, cool, overcast morning and I'm enjoying coffee in the gazebo today, knowing that there won't be too many more cool mornings before the heat of the summer sets in. From where I am sitting, I can smell roses and honeysuckle, and see ripening peaches and corn plants rising, and the blooms of calla lilies, larkspur, bachelor's button, hollyhock, sweet peas, poppies, nasturtiums, and pink Mexican primrose. Tecoma, coreopsis and blanket flower are beginning to bloom and soon will be the major source of color as the summer begins. There are a surprising number of small birds busy among the flowers, looking for seeds or nesting materials I'd assume.

I'm reminded of the passage in the Sermon on the Mount where Jesus tells his followers to consider the lilies of the field and the birds of the air:

25 "Therefore I say to you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink; nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing? ²⁶Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?
²⁷Which of you by worrying can add one cubit to his stature?
²⁸"So why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; ²⁹and yet I say to you that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. ³⁰Now if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will He not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?
³¹"Therefore do not worry, saying, "What shall we eat?' or "What shall we drink?' or "What shall we wear?' ³²For after all these things the Gentiles seek. For your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. ³³But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you. ³⁴Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.

I tend to worry a lot, especially when reading the news, which thanks (or no thanks) to technology is possible to a much greater degree today than in the days when we were limited to the morning newspaper and the nightly news. Observing life in my garden this morning reminds me of God's concern and care for my needs, and for those of His creation. If God lavishes such abundant beauty on flowers, which will soon burn up in the summer's heat, and provides food for the birds, should I not be reassured that my needs will be supplied?

A second thought I had this morning- the flowers wouldn't be as beautiful and the birds wouldn't be enjoying the nourishment they provide if I hadn't planted, fertilized and watered, and pulled a lot of weeds. I think God expects humans to work in partnership with Him in caring for His creation, and that's what He meant when He told humans to "replenish the earth" in Genesis.

Springtime in the Desert

"For behold, the winter is past,
The rain is over and gone.
'The flowers have already appeared in the land;
The time has arrived for pruning the vines,
And the voice of the turtledove has been heard in our land.
'The fig tree has ripened its figs,
And the vines in blossom have given forth their fragrance.
Arise, my darling, my beautiful one,
And come along!"

I've been rather busy during the month of March actually working in the garden and haven't bothered to write about it. This is the most enjoyable time of the year to do so- it hasn't gotten unbearably hot yet (okay, we've had one hundred-degree day so far, but it's cooled off since then) and I delight in seeing something new almost every day. I don't have a vegetable garden, a flower garden, or an herb garden...I have a gloriously eclectic mix of things that look good, smell good, or taste good all mixed together. Our several raised beds contain small fruit trees, herbs, vegetables, and flowers. Some of these were deliberately planted from nursery six-packs (love the price wars between Home Depot and Lowe's on these), some came from seed packets, both specific kinds, and packets of mixed seeds, and some reseeded from last year. I like a full garden, so when seed germination is sparse, I stick something else in the bare spots.

We've had a lot to do this spring, too, because of the unfortunate timing of two "once in a century" hard freezes this winter. The two ficus trees in our back yard were completely killed, while the older ones in our front yard were killed off to the ground. Bougainvillea, tecoma, hibiscus, all vines except honeysuckle were killed off to the ground, and thevetias took a pretty hard hit as well. So we've been doing lots more pruning, but most things (other than ficus and some of the hibiscus) are coming back.

We replaced the ficus in the back yard with a Bradford flowering pear and a Hong Kong orchid, and the ones in the front with Chinese elms. In place of the hibiscus around the pool, we planted Little John bottlebrush and Texas mountain laurel. These plants are a little more cold tolerant, and hopefully will survive the next freeze. Or at least, so I have been told.

One of our peach trees was in bloom at the time of the second frost, so not surprisingly it doesn't have the amount of fruit it normally does. Other trees (three kinds of pear, apple, Santa Rosa plum, nectarine, fig, and a later-fruiting variety of peach) flowered abundantly and appear to be setting a nice crop of fruit which we're trying to keep reasonably thinned out. I don't see anything that looks like almonds on the almond tree, but we only added it last summer. We're attempting a nursery-bought avocado tree in one of the raised beds this year; we have several grown from pits that have survived several years but never produced fruit. Of course, we have our usual bumper crop of lemons, oranges, and grapefruit. The lime trees (Key lime and Bearss) were frost-nipped but should survive, albeit with no fruit this year. There are dozens of grape clusters on our four vines, more than we've ever seen before, our relatively young blueberry bush is loaded with berries, and I saw a flower on our blackberry bush today.

As far as flowering plants go, roses are in full bloom, along with snapdragons and many kinds of wildflowers from a Southwestern mix packet- blanket flower, lupine, owl clover, Mexican poppy, and some kind of red flower I haven't seen before. The petunias and pansies I put in last fall are somewhat disappointing. Larkspur (from seed) is beginning to bloom, with poppies and coreopsis ready to flower any day now.

The sugar snap pea crop, which was abundant the past two years, was a disappointment this year. It's been replaced by snap beans, both bush and pole varieties. The two asparagus plants we put in last year have sent up dozens of tasty-looking shoots, which required an enormous amount of self-control to leave alone as recommended for the first season. After enjoying all the romaine and red leaf lettuce we wanted for several months, we'll have to go back to store-bought salads as it has started to bolt. We've put out transplants of several kinds of tomato, peppers, and a Japanese eggplant as well as starting Armenian cucumber, straight and crookneck squash, and honeydew melon plants from seed. The cold weather killed off the basil plant, so I replaced it, but other herbs planted last year- oregano, thyme, and mint- are thriving. We added a catnip plant this year- will see what the cats think of fresh vs. dried.

So...as I said, I've been busy. I won't mention weed-pulling...the regular garden-variety dandelion-type weeds, or the invasive Mexican primroses and petunias that I wish I'd never planted...but there is always something to see and/or do!

Pruning Time

We've spent the morning rather aggressively pruning things- part removing frost damage, part removing branches that aren't where we want them to be for one reason or the other. I went after the key lime tree with a particular vengeance. Not only has it been heavily frost damaged (limes are more susceptible to frost than other kinds of citrus), it also has particularly nasty thorns and we don't use too many key limes. They are so small that it's very time and labor-intensive to get any usable quantity of juice from them. So, in spite of the fact that as a certified Master Gardener, I know that citrus trees are really shrubs and are healthier if left to their own growth pattern, I decided to remove all branches below the height of my head. That way, I can get in underneath them and attend to other plants without the use of colorful metaphors of various kinds. We'll need to paint the truck for sunburn protection now, though, and we'll see what happens.

I also severely pruned the Valentine emu bushes in the front yard, and we may wind up removing them entirely. Although they are not frost-sensitive, they've gotten rather ratty-looking, and if they look ratty now, which is their blooming season, it may be time for them to go. We've also filled several industrial-size trash bags with prunings from lantana, bougainvillea, hibiscus, yellow bells, and Cape honeysuckle bushes. It all looks pretty barren and sad now, but based on past experience, should come back nicely within the next couple of months.

Roasted broccoli- delicious!

So, I wondered if the broccoli that had flowered was edible, and upon researching it found that it was and was even said to have a somewhat milder flavor than when harvested at the usual bud stage. I thought about making broccoli cheese soup, but couldn't find a recipe for the crock pot utilizing fresh broccoli and natural cheese...everything I found seemed to involve cream of something soup, Velveeta, and/or cheese whiz, and frozen broccoli. I decided to try roasting it, flowers and all, following another recipe I'd found online. I cut the broccoli into good-sized florets, tossed with olive oil, garlic salt, and fresh ground black pepper, then roasted at 425 for 20 minutes. Then I squeezed half a lemon over it and threw in about a tablespoon of fresh Parmesan cheese. It was amazing and quite different- the flowers and buds were crisp and crunchy brown. I found it every bit as addictive as chips or chex mix....hard to stop eating it.

The frost must have really damaged the lemons, so I doubt we will be freezing bags of the juice for homemade lemonade this year. This time, and another couple of times I've used a fresh lemon for something, it was brown and semi-dessicated on the inside; the flavor wasn't affected but there wasn't very much juice. As I recall, this also happened the last time we had a bad freeze....and then we didn't have any lemons or key limes the following year at all.

I pruned off the dead tops of asparagus fern growing alongside the streambed, which was a painful task given that I wasn't wearing gardening gloves (need to get new ones!) Then I packed in algae around the roots which I hope will keep Bermuda grass from growing in there. It's hard to weed around asparagus fern because of the thorns. It's unbelievable how much algae the ponds and streambed produce this time of the year, before the water lilies come back from dormancy. I'm sure it is full of plant nutrients, but when you toss it into the garden it makes a thick, dried mat that nothing can grow through....and it doesn't compost very well either. So I decided to try to use it in places where I don't want Bermuda grass to grow. I packed it around the blueberry, blackberry, and asparagus roots too. That's another place it is not fun to weed, not only because of the thorns, but because ants have taken up residence in that particular bed.

It might as well be spring

It's late January and quite pleasant outside....afternoon temperatures in the low 70's. Almost time to start gearing up for major spring planting. I cut back the dead asparagus foliage and found two green spears already pushing their way out. They look delicious, but you're not supposed to harvest in the first year (they were planted last spring) so I'm trying to keep my hands off. There are also a couple of blossoms on the peach tree and the calla lilies are emerging from the ground. One of the broccoli plants has flowered; I read that you could eat broccoli flowers so I'm going to try it. Romaine lettuce has done well, but only one leaf lettuce plant (red) survived and I'm disappointed in the sugar snap peas that have done so well the past two years. No cauliflower yet, but I see one head forming.

We had a bad December frost and in spite of $15o worth of frost cloth and spray, may have lost the two ficus trees in the back yard. The ones in the front yard may make it, as the bark is still green when scratched, but all of them look terrible. Bougainvilla, lantana, and hibiscus look dead but I'm pretty confident they will come back, except perhaps some of the newer ones around the pool. The frost got the nasturtiums just at the wrong time, too.