Category Archives: Garden

Weather Station Clean Up Day

Samain                                                                    Moving Moon

Took my weather station apart today and cleaned it up. There’s another Davis weather station not very far from our new house and it posts on Weatherunderground as Black Mtn/Shadow Mtn. Once I get mine setup I’m going to go back to posting my weather, too. I moved the display panel away from my broadband hookup into a room where I only use wi-fi here and could no longer post.

The study is done for now. So is the garden study. It was the one with all the files. Tomorrow I’m going to head into the closet under the stairs and the built-in cabinets down here in the basement. That will represent the last of the packing until December 15th or so, moving week. Then, all the computer stuff, all the monitors, this tower, keyboards, mice, cables, power surge strips. Into boxes. Another box for desk supplies, Latin books, remaining stuff.

Next week I plan to go through all of the manuals we have and organize them. I’m also going to work on information about the house itself (where the gfi’s are, filters, that sort of thing) and put together a handbook for the various gardens and the orchard. The new folks will do whatever they want of course, that’s how transfer of property rights work, but I want them to know how and why we did what we did.

There will be a bit in there, too, about cohabitation with the pileated woodpeckers, great horned owl, the moles and the voles and the mice. Those land beavers and whistle pigs. The occasional snapping turtle, small green frogs, salamanders, newts and garter snakes. The odd opossum and raccoon, of course, as well. Chipmunks, squirrels, turkeys and deer. Crows and nuthatches. Chickadees. Hummingbirds. The whole blooming buzzing menagerie.

Good-Bye Midwest

Samain                                                                  Closing Moon

Laid down two year old straw in the orchard, covering up exposed landscape cloth and soil2010 10 04_0347 put in to repair holes dug by various dogs. Brought inside the garage all but two hive boxes, making the bee colony left for the showings less intimidating. Started taking up the silt fencing that protected the area we had scraped over to fill in even more dog holes. The snow coming should make digging a non-issue for the remainder of our time here.

These final outdoor chores, more than anything else we’re doing, say good-bye to the world of the Midwest, the agriculturally focused life that has been around both of us as we grew up. We participated in that life here in Andover growing vegetables, fruit and flowers. Growing anything in the very short growing season at 8,800 feet will require season lengthening strategies such as hoops for plastic tents and starting plants indoors.

Whatever we do, it will be on a much smaller scale than here. We’ll have all winter to plan it.

Finished

Fall                                                                                Falling Leaves Moon

While Kate and Anne worked in the perennial garden, I moved things: the aluminum siding, hoses, plant supports, saws, garden art all into the garage for disposal or eventual packing. We’ve pretty much cleaned up and picked up the outside. With Dehn’s landscaping tomorrow, we can put finished to it for the foreseeable future.

The dogs enjoyed having us outside all day. They’re worn out and sound asleep, snoring away. So is Kate. Me, more of a night owl, not so much.

A Family Effort

Fall                                                                                Falling Leaves Moon

IMAG0651Now all but the leeks and egg plants and peppers are done. The egg plants and peppers are trying to get one egg plant (in the case of the egg plant) and a few peppers (in the instance of the peppers) finished before the killing frost. They might make it, maybe not. The leeks I decided to leave in until the day of the chicken leek pie baking, probably Thursday.

Anne and Kate worked hard all day, trimming up the perennial beds and finally weeding the vegetable beds. I can throw down the broadcast tomorrow.

In the mid-40’s all day the weather was perfect. My gardens would look wonderful if vegetables grew well in the 40’s and 50’s. Working outside in those temperatures energizes me. Even though I’m tired now, I feel good about the day. If I’d worked the same length of time in even the mid-70’s with high humidity, I’d not gotten half as much done. I’m a northern guy.

Kate and I look forward to telling our new Colorado neighbors that we came to the Rockies for the milder winters.

Fall Clean Up

Fall                                                                                Falling Leaves Moon

Raspberries ripe, canes bending. Last of the collard greens, the sweet inner leaves. A few beets, a few carrots. With the exception of the raspberries and the leeks the garden is now harvested. Our final harvest almost complete.

IMAG0686

Built a fire, burning whole logs about 2.5 feet long and thick as a tree trunk. Wrangled the bent up aluminum siding away from the honey house. Rigel went through it on her way to the wee rabbits who live under the honey house.

(Rigel, happy after another task completed.)

Anne took down the electric fence, put up to deter Rigel. Tomorrow Dehn’s landscaping will fill in the holes Rigel began, then manipulated her sister to help go deeper. A lot of this work comes down to the eagerness with which Rigel applies herself to what she sees as her doggy duty. Find things underground. Jump the fence in pursuit of prey. Move anything else that gets in the way. You have to admire her doggedness. Ha. But the results? Not so much.

A perfect cool blue day.

Blood Moon Risin’

Fall                                                                                   Falling Leaves Moon

 

Add blood moon to the adjectives in front of the Falling Leaves Moon for October 8. These lunar eclipses reflect light from sunrise and sunset giving the moon a russet color. Blends in well with the changing leaves. On my weather station I notice a small symbol I’ve not seen for awhile. A snowflake. Means it could snow.

We’re going to make use of the cooler weather with a work outside day today and perhaps a couple of other days this week. First task, start a fire in the firepit so the laborers can warm themselves. Then, the harvest. After that move old aluminum siding to the garage for recycling. Yes, this is stoop labor.

Gotta get out there.

Containment

Fall                                                                                 Fall Leaves Moon

The visible fence has switched on. This is our attempt to keep Gertie out of the orchard until we move. She has, of late, taken to digging out around the fruit trees. No, no, bad dog. The big girls, Vega and Rigel, dig happily everywhere, hunting for something or other underground and aided by our Greater Anoka Sand Plain soil. I’m thinking the Rockies might not prove so congenial. Actually, I’m hoping.

That mulberry limb, a large one blown over in a storm a month or so ago, finally got taken down today. A few strokes of the large pruning saw and it was on its way to the brush pile. We have many brush piles around the property, handy as places to put, well, brush, but also and more importantly as homes for critters.

Finally, more raspberry picking. The raspberry harvest lasts into October, often accomplished when frost is still on the leaves early in the morning. Not so today, however, with the temperature at 77 already. (11:45 a.m.)

A few small chores done, now the Sunday relaxation begins.

A Crucifixion Moment…for the garden

Fall                                                                                    New (Falling Leaves) Moon

The river birch has begun to shed its golden leaves, small instances of light as matter falling toward the ground. The neighbor’s Norway maple has turned its autumn red, a reliable clue that the seasonal change is well underway.

Senescence becomes the word for gardens, vegetable and flower. Green turns to brown, then withers and falls onto the earth which has held it up so long. Tired, I suppose, from the long fight during the growing season to remain upright.

The water that fills out the cells flees back to the roots or out into the air through transvaporation, so leaves shrivel, stalks collapse. But this is not the field of ruins it appears to be. This is instead gathered nutrients ready to return to the soil following that

most necessary of almost hidden processes, decay.

We have arrived, from one perspective, at our crop’s crucifixion moment, when they give up their bodies on behalf of others. It is only an apparent crucifixion though because the dead will rise again, either from underground chambers where they lie dormant or from seeds. What a wonder. And it happens every year.

Mabon 2014 and the Springtime of the Soul

Fall Equinox                                                                      Leaf Change Moon

Today the earth’s celestial equator (the earth’s equator projected into space) passes through the sun’s ecliptic (the sun’s apparent path throughout the year, actually caused by earth’s orbit.) You usually hear this put the other way around; that is, as the sun passing through the earth’s celestial equator, but that represents the stuckness of paleolithic astronomy that assumed the earth was the center of the solar system. From the diagram above you can see the sun’s declination (degree above or below the celestial equator) is 0 on the vernal and autumnal equinoxes.

This same diagram is very clear about the solstices, too. You can see that when the earth’s orbit tilts the northern latitudes toward the sun, the sun is highest in the sky-the summer solstice.  When the sun is lowest in the northern sky-the earth tilts away from the sun and gives us the winter solstice.

Since the summer solstice day time has exceeded night time. In theory the autumnal equinox is the point of equilibrium between light and dark, but at our latitude that day actually occurs on September 25th this year. This is, however, the day the Great Wheel celebrates and it does so because of the sun’s zero declination at earth’s celestial equator.

This week then the victory of the sun, made complete on the summer solstice, begins to wane. The dark god of deep winter gains greater and greater authority as the sun’s rays spread out over a larger area of earth, thus weakening them, and the number of hours that the sun is in our sky, even in its weakened condition relative to the soil, decrease steadily until the night of the winter solstice. Thus comes the fallow, cold time.

It is no accident that the harvest season is now. Over the 475 million years (give or take a hundred million) since plants made it out of the oceans and onto land, plants have adapted themselves to the conditions that work with their particular genetics. Key aspects of a plant’s life include carbon dioxide, soil nutrients, available fresh water, adequate sunlight and temperatures adequate for all these to work with the plant’s life cycle.

Thus, as the earth’s orbit carries it to different relationships with solar strength, temperatures change along with it.  At its maximum when the earth tilts toward the sun and the sun is highest in the sky, the sun’s rays fall on a smaller area of land. Here’s an excellent simulation. University of Nebraska-Lincoln.

Plants have had the past 475 million years to refine their growing season so that it takes maximum benefit of the sun’s strength. In a very real sense the growing season is a clock, or an astronomical observatory directly correlated to the earth’s orbit around the sun–The Great Wheel.

On a spiritual level, if we follow the ancient calendar of the plants, the season of external growth, flowering and seed making, is waning now. Just as the plant either dies out and anticipates its rejuvenation from scattered seed or goes dormant and waits with stored energy below ground in roots or corms or bulbs, so we might consider this season as the one where we shift inward, away from the external demands upon us and the expectations put on us there.

Now we shift toward the interior life, the Self becomes more of a focus, our spiritual life can deepen. We can see this shift in the human life cycle if we compare the second phase of life with its emphasis on family creation and nurture and career, to the third, with its pulling back from those external expectations. The third phase is a post growing season time of life, not in the sense that growth ends, but that its focus is more down and in rather than up and out. The third phase is the fallow time.  Michaelmas on the 29th of this month is known by followers of Rudolf Steiner as the springtime of the soul.

The third phase marks the beginning of the springtime of the soul for the individual.

Enough

Lughnasa (last day of 2014)                                               College Moon

50008 28 10_late summer 2010_0198The raspberry plant. Source of the brambles, an imperial sort of plant that colonizes, then absorbs patches of land. Just realized today what an elegant form of evolutionary engineering it is.

In the spring it shoots up from last year’s cane or from seed. Then it grows up and up toward the sun, its spiny stalk with its thick, bark-like cover strong. During the summer months it spreads out its leaves, increases the size of its stalk, sinks its roots deeper into the soil. As the growing season begins to dwindle, it throws out small blossoms on thin, spindly branches. The resulting fruit at first weighs down the spindly branches just a bit, the whole still upright, able to drink in the sun.

As the fruit matures, however, it gains water weight and the spindly branches begin to IMAG1002bend toward the ground, overwhelmed by the cumulative mass of the maturing fruit. Once a large number of fruits are ripe, the weight of the whole may bend the tip and even the thinner part of the upper stalk toward the ground.

Think of it. At each stage of its presence during the growing season the raspberry has an optimal design. Firm and upright early to catch the sun, to get it above neighboring vegetation. As the fruits turn their soft golds or their beautiful magenta, the raspberry’s fruits gradually lower themselves so the seeds, which they exist to nourish, get closer to the ground. If a bird or animal doesn’t grab them for the taste of the fruit, they simply drop off and fruit and seed start more raspberry plants right there.

Picking raspberries in the cool of a sunny fall afternoon, the air sweet with the scent of snakeroot blooming nearby, the dogs waiting at the fence for fruits thrown over.  Enough. That’s all. Enough.