Thursday, June 2, 2016

Transformation


Transformation
May 2016







May 31, 2015







May 16, 2016










I've been working diligently on a big change.

This change is to transform the garden area that is just beyond our screened porch.

For years, this area has consisted of four rectangular garden beds surrounded by Cypress boards. Three beds were 4' x 16' and the last one, furthest to the SSW, was 4' x 8'. At the ends of each I had formed semicircular mini-beds, usually bordered by brick. I always referred to the main beds as RB#1, 2, 3 and 4, RB#4 being the shorter one.








 May 17, 2013

June 19, 2014








April 2, 2015

February 23, 2014 - RB#4 with a semi-circular mini-bed on the end

Between RB#1 and the sidewalk was a rather wild area of Lemon Balm, Wild Bergamot, Goldenrod and whatever else worked. It has always been a great spot for pollinators.

November 30, 2014 - "wild" area to the right of RB#1, showing old stalks of Wild Bergamot

That wild area is still there and is somewhat representative of the changes taking place. I have planned to change the whole area from angular beds containing fairly wall-planned plantings of mostly vegetables into a wilder spot of mostly herbs, with a rambling path winding through. During a small herb festival in central Indiana last year, I was inspired by such a place – the main garden of the herbalist property owner there.

But, this was not the only inspiration. I'd say it was the impetus to go forth. The match that lit the candle I'd already formed. The window opening on a house I'd built. The stream pouring from a pitcher I'd already filled, and now I could see the nature of the water and how it could flow.

I am already a very organic person – not just in safe gardening methods and food consumption, but in the broadest sense of the word. I take an organic approach to everything, a down-to-earth/let's-get-to-the-reality-of-things approach.

In gardening, this was always true but not fully manifested until now. For years I confined myself to planting in rows, or in rows within beds, or to neat arrays within beds (after I learned more about companion planting), or some sort of pattern. I always have loved pattern – in music, fabric print, art, etc. So, I thought that was what suited me, naturally, for gardening.

But, gardening is not like those other things. You are dealing with living plants that have their own ideas, so to speak, about where and how to grow. They have their own natural forces, their own methods from constant adaptation and evolution. I learned from wild plants that they know just what to do to be successful.

I was drawn to the French Intensive garden method in which vegetables, herbs, flowers and small fruits are planted together in raised beds, but with planning and a sense of pattern, so I did that for a long time. I enjoyed, every year, laboring over my raised bed plans on paper, developing rotation patterns for vegetables. It was a creative effort. Those were good and sometimes elaborate, but I kept changing the pattern until it wasn't a pattern.

April 25, 2014 - He-Shi-Ko Scallion plants in rows within raised bed

And, I found that I had a hard time doing away with a plant that came up as a volunteer, full of vigor, in a place I didn't want it. What could I do if a nice-looking cabbage volunteer came up where there were cabbage family plants the year before, and when that family needs to be on a three-year rotation to avoid pests and diseases? And those Tina James' Magic Primrose plants – they pop up in a different spot every year (I never know where it will be) and take up loads of space. That really messed up my intricate plans!

October 3, 2015 - A volunteer peach tree, probably sprouted from a peach pit that was in added compost. I am leaving it to see how it does.

Tina James' Magic Primrose plants on May 27, 2016, in the middle of the garden area

I also found that I was gravitating more toward healing “herbs”, whether wild or cultivated. Learning to use them for myself and my family was becoming more important to me. I learned the medicinal value of plants such as Dandelion, Plantain, Dock, Chickweed and Blue Violets, making it harder for me to remove them. These are all persistent plants, too. Removing them seemed more like taking away the strong, creative spirit of a “difficult” child.

So, there it was. I was in transition, and my garden was reflecting that. The beds were getting wilder. To the “untrained” eye, they must have looked like weed patches.

November 11, 2015 - RB#1 is lush and green with flowers and vegetables. The remains of Garlic Chives are in the foreground, at the near end of RB#2.

 And I felt myself transitioning away from an ordered, angular, patterned life-way. How many times had I tried setting up strict schedules for myself that soon fell apart? It wasn't working anymore, this compartmentalization of things, this forcing into a pattern. I couldn't ignore the “wild”, and I no longer wanted to. There was a freedom developing within me, wanting to go out, be brighter and wilder. I was becoming a more relaxed person, one who needed to meander, to stop and see what was happening here and there, to let things just be.

And so that's what my main garden needed to be. This transformation was going on within me, and when I saw the herbalist's garden last year I knew what had to happen. The window opened, and I “saw the light”, so to speak.

I walked out to my raised bed area with a clipboard, paper and pencil. I roughly sketched the perimeter that I had to work with and paced out the size of it, as well as distances to the compost bins, the long resting bench, the pump in front of the well house, the old apple tree, etc. No more strings and rulers. No graph paper.

Then I roughly sketched in where there were plants I wanted to keep and go around – perennials, biennials, some successful, diligent re-seeders.





April 17, 2016 - Perennial Leeks and the biennial Giant Italian Parsley

May 3, 2016 - Egyptian Walking Onions, continued by starts from my father's garden










May 6, 2016 - Primrose and Angelica in the middle, Chamomile in the foreground













Then I sketched a path. This was interesting. I let the garden, and the plants, show me where to go with that. I didn't impose anything, including my own ideas. I went around the “keeper” plants. I wandered around on foot as much as I could, to get a feel for it. I allowed this transformation to be known in my mind's eye, and I liked the result. Maybe this was indicative of where my path was going in other aspects of my life.

April 17, 2016

I found an old green hose too damaged to use (I knew I was saving it for some reason) and draped it through the area, showing where the path would be. This helped me better to eye things.

March 25, 2016 - boards removed, but raised beds still evident

I wasn't able to do much about it again until after a series of heavy rains in early spring. At first I removed practically all of the Cypress boards (which were mostly rotten) to put down at the barn. In doing so, I found a native Mantis egg case attached to one, a special treat since we almost always find those of the Chinese Mantid, attached to stalks.



There were days and days of heavy rain. When I could, I started moving earth, taking some where the paths would be and adding it to where garden places would be, especially in the lower areas that had been between raised beds. This alone was a huge transformation that changed the way the whole area felt. Also, there were spots of rich, dark soil where I had been adding compost and other healthy stuff over the years, full of worms, so I made sure that went on planting spaces. Eventually, the paths consisted of clay soil that had not been enhanced.

I began to lay newspapers and cardboard in the paths as I created them, and weighted those down. This was to suppress weeds (which trampling would eventually help to do, too) and make it easier to walk when things got muddy. Eventually I will cover all of that with something like wood chips.

March 25, 2016 - the path mulching begins

May 3, 2016 - more soil sculpting and path mulching

May 6, 2016 - the West Entrance - Garlic Chives to the left, Egyptian Walking Onions to the right

May 6, 2016 - more sculpting, and the North Entrance appears

Growing areas were becoming more defined. Some ended up high from the path, others more level with it. This would help me determine what kinds of plants to put in open spaces, and the terrain changes also added interest along the way.

May 6, 2016 - a raised, central area becomes obvious

May 6, 2016 - view from the South (South Entrance taking shape in the lower right)

May 6, 2016 - a new bed is formed, the outside edge lined with railroad station bricks (a short board left in the garden shows where one end of a raised bed used to be)

I started to remove some plants. As spring moved on with more rain, sun and warmth, more volunteers showed up, growing taller and broader, and more vigorous. As much as I don't like to remove them, I decided to remove a number of them – there were just too many. But, I did it gradually, removing plants as things took shape. However, I did intend to make use of lots of them such as drying Dandelion leaves for green powder, roasting Dandelion roots for tea, making Plantain leaf salve, etc. I would strategically leave some of these plants in the garden. Garlic Chives were the most prolific and dense, so I significantly decreased that population, leaving one large patch.


May 6, 2016 - the northwest corner, yet to be tackled

May 27, 2016 - Yarrow (blooming) left in place, and grass next to it to be removed

May 27, 2016 - I don't know what that very tall plant is - I am waiting for it to bloom to figure it out

May 27, 2016 - Besides leaving some plants, I also left one animal sign. I had discovered this snake hole some years ago while digging - and had also seen the snake! I had forgotten about it until I was forming the paths and beds of this new garden. It remains to be seen if a snake is still using it, but the hole is now more exposed at the edge of the path. 

Gradually, I added plants that I had grown or bought, putting the highly-scented ones next to the path so that people would brush against them. The scents would help them enjoy the garden even more.








May 18, 2016 - Munstead Lavender








May 18, 2016 - Hidecote Lavender, on the opposite side of the path from the Munstead


May 27, 2016 - Common Sage

May 27, 2016 - Pineapple Sage

May 18, 2016 - Lemon Thyme, Oregano and others in a new bed







April 17, 2016 - Carouby the Maussane snow pea seeds planted

May 31, 2016 - Carouby the Maussane pea plants growing taller - seed for Arkansas Little Leaf Cucumbers, Nasturtiums and Petunias planted in front

May 27, 2016 - Mammoth Dill and Purple Cauliflower tucked in next to the West Entrance

May 27, 2016 - little cherry tomato plants







May 18, 2016 - Sunflowers transplanted from a French garden in town, looking wilted ...








... but perking up by May 27, 2016.

May 31, 2016 - a corner of Calendula coming up from scattered seed

May 27, 2016 - Hardy Kiwi and Goji Berry plants have been put in. They are next to the sticks covered with plastic bags (which have the growing information printed on them.) In the background is a tall plant that turned out to be volunteer Hollyhock. but the color of the flowers remains a mystery until bloom time.

May 27, 2016 - one of the Hardy Kiwi plants

Gradually, I added some fun items here and there.

May 27, 2016 - Frog Buddy


May 27, 2016 - framed by Blue Violet plants and Angelica blooms


May 27, 2016 - I bought this lovely dragonfly last February from a vendor at a maple syrup festival. Its wings, made from a light mesh, flutter nicely in the breeze.

In the middle of the area I placed “the decrepit old wooden ladder.” I had just used it when helping our daughter and son-in-law paint when the second step finally gave way. It would have a new job as support for some Red Malabar vines and one of the Hardy Kiwi. It also added an interesting focal point.

May 18, 2016 - as seen from the North Entrance

May 18, 2016 - as seen from the East Entrance

May 27, 2016 - Surely it is not bad luck to look through a ladder.

I find that I enjoy walking the path, even though it is not all mulched yet and there is still much work to do transforming this garden. It gives me a sense of place, and I can test to see that it's really going where it needs to go. I've done just a little bit of tweaking to make it easier to walk.

May 27, 2016

May 27, 2016

It turns out that the cats love it, too. From the beginning, Mireille has been merrily trotting along the trail, sometimes stopping to roll around or scratch her claws on the cardboard. For some reason, the path helped her discover the Catnip that has been there for years.

May 4, 2016 - Mireille traipsing along the new path, as she often does

May 18, 2016 - Mireille discovers the old Catnip

The other cats have been investigating and exploring, too. I have to wonder what chickens would do, if we still had them.

May 27, 2016 - Silas next to the Tina James' Magic Primroses

It is still transforming. But, when I am working in any part of it, I feel more “at home” than I have in any other garden. It connects with something in me. The atmosphere is right. It transforms me by tapping into something that I already have.

Every now and again I work on another section – whatever most needs it next. I have developed four entrances, which I had drawn on paper according to where they just needed to fall. But, they have taken form in new ways (such as becoming widely flared to the outside) and they just happen to be in the four directions.

May 27, 2016 - near the "wild area", the North Entrance to the right

May 27, 2016 - at the North Entrance

Instead of planning it all ahead, I am flowing with the process, and the process then flows along with me.

May 18, 2016 - West Entrance


And, the view from the screened porch is getting more and more interesting.

May 31, 2015

May 16, 2016




Tuesday, March 29, 2016

Birdwatching

Through a Country Window Blog Post
Birdwatching
Winter 2015-2016



In winter I move inward, as most people do. I have brought in my plants from the screened porch and arrayed them on, over and below the bay window in the kitchen. I also have brought in my rocking chair from the porch and plunked it in front of the bay window. From this spot I sit, often with a cup of tea green tea and a journal, watching the birds at the feeders. That is where the “window show” really is during winter.

There are pine trees between the window and the farm field fence – some dead and bare, some full of green.



If I bend over and look to the left, I see the Hawthorn, then the Persimmon tree. For some reason, and for the first time ever, the Hawthorn produced no fruit. Normally, the birds go for the Hawthorn fruit, which is not sweet, late in the winter.

It is among the live and dead pines that I hang the bird feeders. I have some tube feeders, a couple of hopper feeders with suet cages on the ends, a tray feeder held up by a hooked pole stuck in the ground, and a little peanut butter feeder we made in a workshop, plus one thistle seed “sock.”

I am not a “birder”, as it is not my vocation or avocation to go out seeking birds specifically, and I don't keep a “life list”, though I do have a good pair of binoculars (selected according to the advice of some real birder friends, from whom I have learned much.)

I am a “generalist” naturalist who knows more about plants than anything else (probably because they stay in one place so details can be examined), who is really into bugs, who has an utter fascination for fungi, and who has a good background in the Earth Sciences. But, I'm really fascinated by, and study, everything in Nature. The most important aspect to me is not any particular subject or group of beings but how absolutely everything is connected, all the movements together that make up the dance, all the workings and how they work together – whether or not they are considered “sentient.”

So, I could not rightly be called a “birder” because too many other things are grabbing my attention and it's all so consuming.

But, I do watch birds.

The winter feeders provide a prime opportunity to do so. I am better able to identify and learn about individual species, since they come closer and hang out in one spot a bit longer, and I can more easily observe their interactions with each other and everything else.

It's a very nice thing to do while sipping tea in a rocking chair with a blanket on one's lap on a cold winter day.

And, I do tend to make bird lists from watching the feeders.

Here is my list from the Winter of 2015-2016 (not including Sparrows, which I list further down):

Mourning Dove                                        Zenaida macroura
Red-winged Blackbird                             Agelaius phoeniceus
European Starling                                    Sturnus vulgaris
Blue Jay                                                   Cyanocitta cristata
Common Grackle                                    Quiscalus quiscula
Brown-Headed Cowbird                         Molothrus ater
American Robin                                      Turdus migratorius
Northern Cardinal                                    Cardinalis cardinalis



Male Cardinal and House Finch

House Finch                                            Carpodacus mexicanus
Goldfinch                                                Carduelis tristis
Eastern Towhee                                       Pipilo erythrophthalmus
Dark-eyed Junco                                     Junco hyemalis
Carolina Chickadee                                 Poecile carolinensis


Carolina Chickadee


Tufted Titmouse                                      Baeolophus bicolor


Tufted Titmouse

White-Breasted Nuthatch                        Sitta carolinensis
Carolina Wren                                         Thryothorus ludovicianus
Downy Woodpecker                                Picoides pubescens
Red-Bellied Woodpecker                        Melanerpes carolinus
Yellow-Bellied Sapsucker                       Sphyrapicus varius

I had seen the Sapsucker flitting around the pines and Persimmon during early winter, before I had put out the feeders.

The Sparrows are the most vexing to sort out. There are a variety with streaked or plain breasts, striped  or plain heads, and markings around eyes, mouth, neck, or no markings. This is complicated by the variations with females and juveniles, as well as the possible confusion with some other species (for example, a female House Finch can be mistaken for a Sparrow.)

So, during the Winter of 2014-2015 I painstakingly made a little guide to “Winter Sparrows”, for myself:






It was very helpful that winter. It was not helpful this winter because I had forgotten where I put it and didn't find it until mid-March. I think I will get it copied and laminated, then keep it with my bird field guides.

Here are a few Sparrows from this winter:

White-Crowned                                      Zonotrichia leucophrys



White-Throated                                      Zonotrichia albicollis



English/House                                        Passer domesticus

English, or House, Sparrow on far left


The latter is an alien species that tends to convene in large groups, descend en masse on the feeders, clear them out quickly, and make a lot of noise.

There were also:

Song Sparrows                                       Melospiza melodia

Some other Sparrows that may have been there, since I did see them the previous winter, are:

American Tree                                       Spizella arborea
Field                                                       Spizella pusilla
Fox                                                         Passerella iliaca

This is not to say I haven't seen some other kinds of birds during other winters – and who knows what I've missed when I wasn't at the window.

Male Cardinals, as we all know, look splendid against white snow and green pine.




The females are not as brightly colored, but still lovely.



The ground below the feeders, especially when there was a cover of snow, was very busy with the activity of an array of ground feeders:  Towhees, Robins, Mourning Doves, and many Juncos, as well as Cardinals and various Sparrows.



Dark-eyed Junco

Mourning Dove


Goldfinches and House Finches love the tube feeders …       

      Goldfinches at the tube feeder


… while Woodpeckers mostly go for the suet.








Female Downy Woodpecker








 Male Downy Woodpecker

Red-Bellied Woodpeckers eat at the suet feeders, at the trees, and also take seeds from the tray


 The hopper feeders are sometimes shared.

House Finches and Goldfinches

Female Downy Woodpecker and male Northern Cardinal 


But, when the European Starling comes over, everyone else leaves.

This male Starling was going after the suet cakes, sometimes in an acrobatic manner:



Starlings would sometimes come in a raucous group to hog the hanging tray feeder. But, when they weren't there, other birds shared nicely.

Tufted Titmouse (left) and Goldfinch

The tray feeder was also visited by Carolina Chickadees (who seemed to be in constant motion between the feeders, the branches, the fence, etc.), Red-Winged Blackbirds, Blue Jays (it can withstand the weight of the larger birds) and, once in a while, a Carolina Wren.


White-breasted Nuthatches visit the feeders (especially for suet), but are more often seen scooting down the side of a tree trunk, searching the bark


 Two Sparrows

 Blue Jay

I have a special affinity for the Corvids. I love how they move, how they fly in, how they suddenly drop down from one spot to another, how they tilt their heads. I love their uncanny intelligence and their often harsh-sounding voices.











Blue Jay


  Common Grackle

As the winter wears down and spring starts to seep in, my life becomes busier with gardens, woodlands and other things. As a result, I tend to forget to refill the feeders. But, Spring came early this year, and along with it the emerging bugs and buds. The birds are starting to find new food in the wild after almost using up the seeds and berries that hung on and sustained them all winter. And, the birds are busier with staking out claims, trying to impress the females, and even gathering nesting materials.

Also, mammalian wildlife, such as Raccoons, Opossums and Squirrels, become more active as spring arrives, some needing to feed more to their early young or to their nursing selves. This means that I more often find bird feeders emptied out, or knocked to the ground, or even set up sideways on a tree limb. Sometimes I find them several yards from the feeding area. I still have not found the cap to one of my tube feeders.

But, I'll probably fill feeders a few more times, even if it is, as I write, late March.

Before long, we will declutter and scrub out the porch. We will be having porch-sitting weather. Then my attentions, and this blog, will be looking out the porch and other windows.

So long, for now, to winter and the bay window.