Through a Country Window

Wintering

Winter 2017-2018

December 22, 2017

Here is how I ended my previous blog entry, called "Turning", from late summer and fall of 2017:

"Now, I begin to turn inward, to set up the bird feeders outside and pull my rocking chair up to the bay window. It is time to begin to burrow myself into winter projects and studies, in preparation for the next spring - cleaning and testing seeds, studying woodland mushroom production, studying home fruit production, putting together an herbal medicine binder, and catching up on studies from nature observations from throughout 2017."

HA! Is that how it went? Nope.

Did I "burrow myself into winter projects and studies ..."? Nope, or, just barely.
I did hang up the bird feeders, but the rocking chair never came in from the screened porch.

December 24, 2017

I did not clean and test all of the seeds, though I did some. Others are still sitting in bags in the kitchen, as of mid-April 2018.
Did I study woodland mushroom production? Never cracked the book open. In fact, I forgot about that prospect completely.

Except I did grow some really nice button mushrooms from a kit Richard gave me for Christmas!

Home fruit production? Bingo! There's one I have been working on, though I have not accumulated all of the materials I need for the year.
Did I put together my herbal medicine binder? Bzzzzt! No!
Did I catch up on studies from nature observations I did throughout 2017? Very regretfully - no.

I had big plans for a very internal winter, the way I generally envision a winter to be. This is the equivalent of pioneers spending the winter cleaning, repairing and sharpening tools and equipment, catching up on quilt-making, and ... cleaning seeds.

So, what in the world did I do all winter?

It seemed to go so fast. Winters are supposed to crawl by at a painfully slow pace, making one wish for spring. I was wishing for more winter so that I could do the things I had intended to do before the rushing onset of spring activity would arrive, pushing everything else out of the way.

But, sometimes Life has other ideas. It seemed I was busy all the time, and suddenly it was holiday season. I was not prepared for holiday season, and so I crammed everything in late in the game (I vow to never do that again.)

On the heels of the holidays was Richard's retirement in early January, including a celebration, at our house, shortly after his last day of work. Don't get me wrong - I am happy for his retirement, and it is worthy of celebration, and we had a grand one that I am very glad we did have, full of memories. But, it did mean I was further behind in those "internal" winter projects.

Some things I did accomplish:

1. Brought my plants indoors:

Brown Turkey fig tree and other assorted plants on January 28, 2018

The beginnings of three windowsill herb plants - parsley, rosemary, thyme - from a garden program in late January, 2018

"The succulent plant that fell from the sky" - the center leaf found alone one day next to the faucet outside our well house - and with prodigious new growth since then. To the right is one of many Mother-of-Thousands plants.

2. Did my seed orders and then started some seed indoors:

Cells planted with He-Shi-Ko Scallion seeds on February 15, 2018 -

something I plant every year

3. Fed the birds:

January 11, 2018

February 11, 2018

4. Harvested some early winter produce:

A harvest of Rainbow Swiss Chard on November 20, 2017

I also planned the gardens for the Vincennes State Historic Sites, kept up with blogs and articles (except this blog, obviously), played Irish music with friends, met with friends, led nature walks, went to some book club meetings, went to an opera, did a presentation, got wrapped up in watching the Winter Olympics, worked on controlling invasive plants, did my part of the invasive plant phenology project, and went to meetings, workshops and programs.

Well! That sounds like a lot, now that it's all written down. I suppose I wasn't such a slump this winter, after all.

The thing is, I have a tendency to give myself more things to do (in a day, in a week, in a season) than a normal person can reasonably accomplish. I should not be disappointed that I did not “do it all.”

But, I will do what I can to ensure that next winter is a calm, internal, studious one. However – one never knows.

A view of our humble homestead on January 22, 2018

Some scenes from over the 2017-2018 winter:

The Herb Garden Transformation Project:

December 24, 2017

Stories in the snow - bird tracks and wing prints - on December 24, 2017

January 12, 2018

January 15, 2018

January 18, 2018

More stories in the snow, on January 18, 2018

Mourning Dove imprint in the garden on January 18, 2018

January 22, 2018 - after snow melt and rain

Frozen Tibetan prayer flags on January 27, 2018

February 4, 2018

Comparison on the garden path: February 4, 2018 (a mouse, I think)

Volunteer Peach Tree:

November 20, 2017

January 12, 2018

January 22, 2018

February 11, 2018

Garden Frog:

December 22, 2017

January 15, 2018

January 18, 2018

January 29, 2018

February 4, 2018

It needs a name. I'm considering "Bufo".

Dragonfly:

January 15, 2018

Sparkling with ice: January 27, 2018

Icy again: February 11, 2018

Some more scenes:

An old Jerusalem Artichoke stalks, I sometimes find the narrow slits made by native bees who are overwintering in there - a good reason to not clean up the garden very well.

January 29, 2018

One of my favorite views from the house - when sunlight strikes the double-trunk Sycamore tree in the distance

Foggy morning of January 27, 2018

The previous summer's nest of an Eastern Phoebe, in the eaves of the barn

January 12, 2018

Early morning: January 27, 2018

Shoes: Early morning: January 27, 2018

Sunset through the bay window on December 30, 2017

Turning

Fall 2017

Pumpkin and Native American corn harvest from the gardens on September 13

Autumn is a bookend season. At one end we have the last vestiges of summer, and at the other, the frosty beginnings of winter. This year, conditions were still hot and dry during early autumn.

Harvest was going full-force, from the last of summer “tropical” crops to the beginning of fall fruits. Some fall crops got a head start in the warm weather.

September 13: a harvest of winter squash, and ...

... turnip plants just sprouting.

Through the bay window on September 19, I watched the corn harvest

The landscape was still green, overall, though leaves looked tired from the wear and tear of summer, done with the vigorous activity of photosynthesizing, waiting for rest.

October 13 along the woods' edge (reddish and brown leaves are from broken branches)

On September 4, Margined Blister Beetles were chewing up my Rainbow Swiss Chard, but I knew the plants would recover in time for autumn.

Yet, there still were plants in full, vibrant bloom, and insects frantically gathering nectar and mating, as the days became gradually shorter, signalling that time was nigh.

September 4: wasps, Soldier beetles and bees on the Stiff Goldenrod in the garden

September 4: Pearl Crescent butterfly visiting the Marigolds

The shortening days and lengthening nights met up evenly on the Autumnal Equinox. The tipping point had arrived.

Tiny grasshoppers still about in the garden on September 22

The Volunteer Peach Tree in the Herb Garden Transformation Project (HGTP) had been feeding insect life through the summer

One of our neighbors' honeybees on the wild Canadian Goldenrod near the gardens

Marigolds having a hayday on the Autumnal Equinox

Nasturtiums still in full bloom ...

... and probably the last Foxglove blossoms of the year

Radiant blossoms of the Jerusalem Artichokes (not artichokes, but a native Sunflower)

An Autumnal Equinox harvest of cherry tomatoes ...

... paste tomatoes and assorted peppers

Fresh Goji berries ...

... and dried Goji berries, for the winter

Autumnal Equinox sunset through the bay window

Fall crops started to come in more readily. I found, almost suddenly, that many garden plants had gone to seed. Some of the seed was for harvest – to eat or save, or both.

By September 22, the Stiff Goldenrod flowers had faded and seeds were forming

Birds have been working over the heads of sunflower seeds, including this Mammoth variety

Wild Senna seed pods in the HGTP

Blazing Star with wands of seed clusters, in the HGTP

Seed capsules of a native Beardtongue, HGTP

in one of the mini-beds next to the shed: Good Mother Stallard pole beans and Red Orach

Richard and I both planted cowpeas as a summer cover crop - three varieties between us. As a legume, they add nitrogen to the soil. Both the leaves and fresh beans are edible, as well as the dry beans in these pods, but we'll save some of the dry beans as seed for next year's cover crop.

As the weather finally cooled, those plants which prefer the cold (remaining almost dormant throughout the summer, and often bug-chewed) were re-awakened, springing back to life, becoming verdant, colorful and crisp.

My favorite: Rainbow Swiss Chard

Perpetual Spinach (really a type of Chard)

Those turnip seedlings were getting a little bigger and denser

It was time to plant garlic and shallots, too.

Richard had readied a strip of ground for my garlic and shallot plantings

As time moved on and temperatures decreased further, crispness began to enter the air and the slant of sunlight became lower, reaching under the canopy to light up tree trunks, and under plants to back-light their leaves.

This set me into my own frantic pace for cleaning out the old and preparing for the new. Autumn has its own sense of renewal.

September 27, and the cherry tomatoes were still going strong

Canadian Goldenrod still vibrantly blooming over the Rainbow Swiss Chard

Yup, the Nasturtiums were still blooming on September 27 - they would valiantly bloom up until frost

Transforming the Herb Garden Transformation Project: one of the first things I did was greatly decrease the Garlic Chive patch, which had spread out of control (there it is in the center, after the decrease.) I had clipped the tops as soon as the flowers faded, before the seed would be ripe. Digging out a lot of the Garlic Chives (throughout the HGTP) also left spaces for new plantings.

We were experiencing an extended dry period, so I set out small containers of water here and there, presumably for birds, bees and toads. However, I think the cats got the water, mostly.

HGTP Transformation on October 1: the Egyptian Walking Onion spot has been tamed - they had been growing all around the outside of this semi-circle

In the center of this cleared area I planted a native American Plum

More native plants went in (seeds collected and plants grown here in Knox County): two Hoary Vervain plants (near bricks) and a Lyre-Leaved Sage (near the blue flag)

I put in a Cardinal Flower plant near the English Thyme

A False Sunflower (red flag, near the Great Burdock) and a Swamp Milkweed (barely visible by the frog decoration)

Another view of the transformed area ...

... and another view.

Another section of the HGTP, yet to be transformed. Throughout the fall I would be gradually digging out excess and unwanted plants to create new spaces, and putting in new plants and fall seeds.

A welcome guest on October 1: an Argioppe (Garden Spider) in her web among cherry tomato plants

October 7 - harvested corn field

Finally, after a long, bone-dry period autumn rains refreshed the landscape, coming full force. Nights became consistently cold, and cool days happened more often.

The landscape looked sparser, crisper. I felt inspired to get ready for Halloween.

Bay window below - nice fall scene

Bay window above

Roasted, seasoned pumpkin seeds

"Ghoulash" with garden greens

Watching scary movies

My favorite

The air felt different, and the slant of light was even more distinctly changed. The setting sun caught me by surprise – it seemed there should have been more time to work outdoors.

October 10 - heavy, constant downpour!

Things happened quickly then, as we barreled toward the end of October.

Rains had brought forth mushrooms in the HGTP

The Tulip Poplar tree near the HGTP had been losing leaves to the wind and rain

After Richard dug sweet potatoes, he left them in the field to cure in the sun as long as he could. As welcome as the rain was overall, it meant he had to bring all the sweets into the porch.

The marigold plant grew profusely and spread out widely, but the peppers underneath them persevered

I planted a short row of mixed Zinnia seeds in the HGTP, which did nothing all summer. Then, at the end of October ... voila!

This Rosemary plant will need to be brought indoors before frost

The Common Garden Sage did very well this year in the HGTP!

By late October, the Stiff Goldenrod was completely in seed - those bright gold flowers busy with insects were then just a memory

Meanwhile, Canadian Goldenrod was fading and starting in to seed

Bright gold blossoms of the Jerusalem Artichoke (native sunflower) were also gone. Underground, these plants would be forming the edible tubers that I would dig up later.

The cold of late October was reawakening the greens, including Dandelions ...

... and these Hilton Chinese Cabbages I had planted and harvested last spring ...

... and these Collard greens that Richard had planted.

The Horseradish plants were reinvigorated, too, growing new leaves ...

... and the flat-leaved Italian Parsley became bright and shiny, full of nutrition.

The baby Perennial Leeks I had transplanted to this little bed during February had stayed small and thin all summer - I could barely tell it from the grasses that came up, and was afraid I would pull out the wrong plants. But, in late October they finally started growing and really showing up.

Though we still had a few decent tomatoes, mostly they looked like these - hanging bags of melted tomato-plasm.

Finally, I found the time (and conditions) to plant several varieties of Garlic, one variety of Shallots, and two varieties of winter Lettuces.

A little harvest on October 22 was a mixture of the last of summer and the first of autumn

October 29: sunflower heads waiting to be harvested for bird feeders (if any seed is left) ...

... and the Winter Squash harvest makes it into the wheelbarrow.

At last, we reached the end of October. Leaves were turning color more readily – golds, amber, russet, crimson, cinnamon, copper.

October 29

Light frost appeared on the last morning of the month.

Halloween had arrived! It was cold, wet, and dim – easy for imagining witches dashing across the moon or spirits floating vaguely in the distance.

The Volunteer Peach Tree, bedecked with eyeball lights of ever-changing colors

The year had turned. My work outside was almost complete.

Now, I begin to turn inward, to set up the bird feeders outside and pull my rocking chair up to the bay window. It is time to begin to burrow myself into winter projects and studies, in preparation for the next spring - cleaning and testing seeds, studying woodland mushroom production, studying home fruit production, putting together an herbal medicine binder, and catching up on studies from nature observations from throughout 2017.