I had wanted to grow Datura. I had planted some around 10 years ago, and loved it, and couldn't find plants or seeds again. In 2007, a plant came up in the middle of my garden. I was so happy. I tended it, and guarded it, and nurtured it, and in the fall I carefully collected the seeds and stored them safely away. So safely, in fact, that I could never find them again. And I really wanted Datura. Well, one day this midsummer, I was pruning my tomatoes, when something between the tomato plants caught my eye. Datura! Nowhere near where it grew before - in a different bed entirely, on a different side of the house. Gotta love that compost - it makes gardening like a box of chocolates - you never know what you're going to get!
So now I'm watching the seed pod grow and mature, and I'll blog where I store the seeds, so I can find them next year. I plan to post a photo of my Summer 2012 Datura Hedge! Here's what the seed pod looks like:
And speaking of compost volunteers, remember the picture of my newly planted Sea Buckthorn? Let me remind you....
Remember how I talked about planting them in buckets of my compost? So here's how they look now...
Those are volunteer tomatillos that came up all by themselves. I came back from vacation, and there they were. Not to worry - I pinched them way, way back, so that the little trees most certainly have a fighting chance. But talk about perseverance! No matter how many blossoms or branches I pinch off a tomatillo plant, twice as many more are sprouted. No kidding. Pinching back tomatillos is pretty much a make work project.
The red raspberries didn't do well with the extreme heat, but I did manage to harvest a few cups before the real heat wave began. The poor berries just couldn't withstand the relentless heat, and they pretty much withered on their branches. Even with the water they got, it just wasn't enough. I did get a great crop of red currants, though. They were ready before the terrible heat, so the crop was fine. I love the photograph them in the sun, since they glow like rubies, or, if you're a Roger Zelazny fan, like Jewels of Judgment.
My apple tree did bear fruit, but like most years, they fell before I could pick them, and the ants and squirrels got the best of them. I did get a few bites, though.
I've seen it so many times, but the garden never fails to amaze and astonish me with how it changes, and how it actually produces things we can eat! Over and over, I have the privilege of bearing witness to the movie that is my garden over the growing and harvesting seasons.
Comparing before and after pictures really brings this home.
I submit the following series for your approval:
Peppers
Green Beans
Cucumbers
Lettuce
I have to admit, though, that I did run into a few problems this year. Aside from the heat, my green beans did develop a kind of rust on the leaves. It didn't seem to be detrimental to fruit set, but it was weird. The tayberries were right beside the beans, and this year they suffered from something that I've never seen before - a lot of the berries went grey and fuzzy. Can anyone tell me what this is? I've got pictures of the bean leaves, and the fuzzy berries, below. Note to self - next year, don't plant the green beans anywhere near the tayberries, and give them something taller to climb on, so that the leaves get more air circulation, and may be less susceptible to disease.
I would also like to share my favorite pictures of the year, pictures that speak to me of quiet miracles, sometimes beauty in simplicity, sometimes beauty in complexity, sometimes beauty in perfect form or balance:
I say thank you, to the quiet bravery and perseverance of the botanical world. I applaud the audacity with which plants grow, survive, and flourish in such a broad spectrum of conditions.
I admire their ability to adapt, their resourcefulness and their resilience, and I'm humbly grateful for their generosity. My vegetable beds nourish me figuratively during the meditations of planting, weeding, tending, and harvesting, well before they nourish me physically.
I can only express my gratefulness by showing care, by tending conscientiously, and by making use of as much of the garden as I can, attempting to waste nothing.
And speaking of compost volunteers, remember the picture of my newly planted Sea Buckthorn? Let me remind you....
Remember how I talked about planting them in buckets of my compost? So here's how they look now...
Those are volunteer tomatillos that came up all by themselves. I came back from vacation, and there they were. Not to worry - I pinched them way, way back, so that the little trees most certainly have a fighting chance. But talk about perseverance! No matter how many blossoms or branches I pinch off a tomatillo plant, twice as many more are sprouted. No kidding. Pinching back tomatillos is pretty much a make work project.
The red raspberries didn't do well with the extreme heat, but I did manage to harvest a few cups before the real heat wave began. The poor berries just couldn't withstand the relentless heat, and they pretty much withered on their branches. Even with the water they got, it just wasn't enough. I did get a great crop of red currants, though. They were ready before the terrible heat, so the crop was fine. I love the photograph them in the sun, since they glow like rubies, or, if you're a Roger Zelazny fan, like Jewels of Judgment.
My apple tree did bear fruit, but like most years, they fell before I could pick them, and the ants and squirrels got the best of them. I did get a few bites, though.
I've seen it so many times, but the garden never fails to amaze and astonish me with how it changes, and how it actually produces things we can eat! Over and over, I have the privilege of bearing witness to the movie that is my garden over the growing and harvesting seasons.
Comparing before and after pictures really brings this home.
I submit the following series for your approval:
Peppers
Green Beans
Cucumbers
Lettuce
I have to admit, though, that I did run into a few problems this year. Aside from the heat, my green beans did develop a kind of rust on the leaves. It didn't seem to be detrimental to fruit set, but it was weird. The tayberries were right beside the beans, and this year they suffered from something that I've never seen before - a lot of the berries went grey and fuzzy. Can anyone tell me what this is? I've got pictures of the bean leaves, and the fuzzy berries, below. Note to self - next year, don't plant the green beans anywhere near the tayberries, and give them something taller to climb on, so that the leaves get more air circulation, and may be less susceptible to disease.
I would also like to share my favorite pictures of the year, pictures that speak to me of quiet miracles, sometimes beauty in simplicity, sometimes beauty in complexity, sometimes beauty in perfect form or balance:
I say thank you, to the quiet bravery and perseverance of the botanical world. I applaud the audacity with which plants grow, survive, and flourish in such a broad spectrum of conditions.
I admire their ability to adapt, their resourcefulness and their resilience, and I'm humbly grateful for their generosity. My vegetable beds nourish me figuratively during the meditations of planting, weeding, tending, and harvesting, well before they nourish me physically.
I can only express my gratefulness by showing care, by tending conscientiously, and by making use of as much of the garden as I can, attempting to waste nothing.
