Seasons
It's reached that point where the dreamy, long days of summer feel never ending. Everywhere I look outside is shimmer and glare of sun. No matter how I try to remind myself of the, muddy cold Winter of our first days in this house, I can't really believe in it.
And yet there has been a chill in the air these past couple of nights, a faint whisper that Fall is coming. And then there are the plants, showing signs that Fall harvest is not far away. I picked the first sunflower seed head last week, that extravagantly tall one in the perennial bed. It was a little early to pick; the petals were gone but it was still pretty green. But the birds had discovered it, and they forced my hand. They had already eaten a good many seeds before I noticed. It was either pick it with a long stem and hope the seeds keep maturing before it dries out in my sunroom, or try to cover the seeds to protect them. The thing is, you never know when an unseasonal downpour is going to arrive around here, usually just when you least expect it. Anything I covered the seeds with might hold in moisture and harbour mold.
Nothing like a freshly harvested sunflower seed head to make one think of Fall:
My small, decorative sunflowers were planted a bit later, and they are still cheery and bright:
Like most flowers in the garden, I grow them to attract beneficial insects. In this case, pollenators. The bees love them. This is my first year growing these little sunflowers, and I am finding that I love them, too. The splash of deep orange on the petals looks like brush strokes. One plant produces a crowd of little flowers at once. I'll be saving seeds for next year.
It is mid-February, the antipodean equivalent of mid-August. I am keeping a keen eye on my Fall-harvested veggies, and starting to plan my Fall plantings. The kumera is starting to really stretch out, and I can only hope it's making lots of tasty tubers underground. My butternut squash has three promising looking squash coming in, and it's not too late to hope for a couple more. Of course it's not as impressive as the monster squash I grew last Summer, the one that yielded nine squash on the one plant. That just means there's room for improvement; something to think about for next season.
This is one of the things I love about veggie gardening. The way it connects me with the seasons. I didn't really have anything good to say about Fall or Winter before I started gardening. Now I have something to look forward to. This Fall I'm planning Florence fennel and broccoli and garlic, and I'd like to try multiplying onions in the perennial bed.
Gardening also connects me to years past and those to come. It gives me a sense of continuity, despite moving house 3 times in the past 4 years. There are plants I grow that are old friends now. The calendula and the runner beans and the nasturtiums - the more I grow these familiar faces in our new home, the more it feels like home. I've been carrying generations of their seeds with me as I go.
We moved in July of last year. I didn't get to plant any garlic that year. I didn't have any to harvest this Summer. I'm looking forward to garlic planting this Fall.
And yet there has been a chill in the air these past couple of nights, a faint whisper that Fall is coming. And then there are the plants, showing signs that Fall harvest is not far away. I picked the first sunflower seed head last week, that extravagantly tall one in the perennial bed. It was a little early to pick; the petals were gone but it was still pretty green. But the birds had discovered it, and they forced my hand. They had already eaten a good many seeds before I noticed. It was either pick it with a long stem and hope the seeds keep maturing before it dries out in my sunroom, or try to cover the seeds to protect them. The thing is, you never know when an unseasonal downpour is going to arrive around here, usually just when you least expect it. Anything I covered the seeds with might hold in moisture and harbour mold.
Nothing like a freshly harvested sunflower seed head to make one think of Fall:
My small, decorative sunflowers were planted a bit later, and they are still cheery and bright:
Like most flowers in the garden, I grow them to attract beneficial insects. In this case, pollenators. The bees love them. This is my first year growing these little sunflowers, and I am finding that I love them, too. The splash of deep orange on the petals looks like brush strokes. One plant produces a crowd of little flowers at once. I'll be saving seeds for next year.
It is mid-February, the antipodean equivalent of mid-August. I am keeping a keen eye on my Fall-harvested veggies, and starting to plan my Fall plantings. The kumera is starting to really stretch out, and I can only hope it's making lots of tasty tubers underground. My butternut squash has three promising looking squash coming in, and it's not too late to hope for a couple more. Of course it's not as impressive as the monster squash I grew last Summer, the one that yielded nine squash on the one plant. That just means there's room for improvement; something to think about for next season.
This is one of the things I love about veggie gardening. The way it connects me with the seasons. I didn't really have anything good to say about Fall or Winter before I started gardening. Now I have something to look forward to. This Fall I'm planning Florence fennel and broccoli and garlic, and I'd like to try multiplying onions in the perennial bed.
Gardening also connects me to years past and those to come. It gives me a sense of continuity, despite moving house 3 times in the past 4 years. There are plants I grow that are old friends now. The calendula and the runner beans and the nasturtiums - the more I grow these familiar faces in our new home, the more it feels like home. I've been carrying generations of their seeds with me as I go.
We moved in July of last year. I didn't get to plant any garlic that year. I didn't have any to harvest this Summer. I'm looking forward to garlic planting this Fall.
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