Thursday, October 4, 2018

Peachy


Peachy
Summer 2018

June 18, 2018 


June 28, 2018


A special little twig appeared in my garden a few years ago.

It happened when I was converting the space, not far from the screened porch, from four board-surrounded raised beds to a wilder area with winding paths and various highs and lows. I think the twig must have sprung from a peach pit that was in the compost bin. After a summer of canning peaches from a local orchard, and then a year of all the organic material rotting into rich compost, I had added the compost to one of the raised beds. I had not screened it, so a peach pit had escaped my notice.

At first I thought it was a little Willow tree, but as it grew it developed the distinctive yellowish cast of a young peach tree, and eventually it proved it to be so by bringing forth dark, shiny leaves, gracefully arched and very slightly toothed on the edges. I decided to let it be, to see what it would do, could do.

I'm so glad I did. Since we had gotten various varieties of peaches from the orchard, I had no way of knowing which kind this baby was. I also didn't know if it would ever bloom, and if the blooms would ever be pollinated well enough to produce any fruit, and if the fruit would be truly viable. But, it would be an interesting addition to what I then called the Herb Garden Transformation Project (HGTP). It would add height to one corner, and texture. It would mark one of the four entrances to the garden.


March 25, 2016 - HGTP seen from the south (under construction) - Volunteer Peach Tree sapling is in the far back corner


I took care of it the way one ought to take care of a peach tree.


February 27, 2018 - The very young peach tree, after pruning


Over time it grew more leaves, and then even bloomed with pretty pink flowers (though not profusely).


June 6, 2018

June 13, 2018 - HGTP from the southeast - Volunteer Peach Tree in middle back, Giant Burdock to the right


Through the seasons, the Volunteer Peach Tree (VPT) in the HGTP experienced changes in and of itself. It also developed new relationships with its surroundings, both within the tree and on the outside.








February 11, 2018 - Icy peach tree (before pruning) bedecked with winter bird feeders. Later, I hung and old blue teapot on the far side of the tree and put black sunflower seed in it - I saw birds going in and out of the teapot frequently.









March 21, 2018 - morning


June 25, 2018 - Yarrow and Tina James' Magic Primroses blooming, Giant Burdock at top right, Volunteer Peach Tree at top.


July 5, 2018 - Luffa vine reaching for the peach tree








August 3, 2018 - Luffa blossom in the peach tree








September 23, 2018 - Luffa fruit growing from vine in Volunteer Peach Tree













In July, while checking around in the tree, I discovered that the Volunteer Peach Tree had its first bird's nest!! Nestled in the branches, about halfway between the trunk and branch tips, the nest was neat, and a little tipped toward the inside. I never did see a bird flying to or away from it, and it was too high for me to look inside for eggs.


July 5, 2018

July 16, 2018


August 4, 2018


July 29, 2018 - the HGTP seen from the west, with the peach tree in back, and Cardinal Flower blooming in the middle


September 7, 2018 - Volunteer Peach Tree (left) as seen from the screened porch, with Red Torch Tithonia in bloom nearby.

Besides bird building nests or using the bird feeders, birds also sought temporary refuge in the leafy summer peach tree. Other refuge-seekers included dragonflies, butterflies, and other insects. Its leaves were providing food for some caterpillars.


September 23, 2018 - a well-worn Black Swallowtail butterfly visits a Red Torch Tithonia blossom near the Volunteer Peach Tree. Chewed holes are visible on some peach tree leaves in the background.




One day, in mid-August, I was rummaging around in the branches, looking for the nest. For some reason, I could only see it from certain angles, and I was challenging myself (unsuccessfully) to see it from a particular angle.

That was when I discovered the most surprising change that has happened, thus far, with the Volunteer Peach Tree.

My eye caught a different color within the branches before me. I parted the branches and found something softly yellowish. Or orange-ish. Or pinkish. Peachy.

I reached out to touch it and found it was full, roundish and a little fuzzy. I applied just a bit of pressure and, yes, there was a little bit of give. Before I thought to take a photo of this prize, I plucked it. I held it in my palm, cupping my hand around it, feeling the soft warmth, marveling at the fact that it was what it was.

It was a sort of funny shape, not perfectly round, but in my eye the Volunteer Peach Tree's first-ever peach was perfect.


August 13, 2018 - First Peach!

I brought it into the porch, where Richard was reading in his rocking chair. When I got his attention I held it out toward him, saying, “Guess what I just found in the Volunteer Peach Tree?!”

I brought it into the kitchen for the moment of truth – the slicing open of the first peach.




It was a little overripe near some edges. Still, I had found it at just the right time, in full ripeness, still edible.




Then, the first taste of the first peach. It was warm, juicy, and with a perfect sweetness that filled the senses. I brought a slice out to Richard and he expressed the same.

I cut up a few slices into bits to flavor some kombucha that I was decanting for the second-ferment process.




The rest of the peach – we both savored.

I checked through the whole tree and found that this was the only peach it had produced. Had it put all its effort into making one truly wonderful fruit?

I will keep tending the Volunteer Peach Tree. It will keep acting as a haven for birds, insects and others. Its trunk and branches will thicken, and some branches will be pruned.

Hopefully, its branches will not only continue to flower and fruit, but will hold even more orbs of sweet, peachy perfection next summer.


September 24, 2018






Thursday, May 17, 2018

Springing



Springing
April 2018




Last time, I wrote about “Wintering”.
Now that winter is over, I should be writing about “Springing”.
Right?
Well, I thought so, but the month of March was quite a fickle one!
And, technically, winter wasn't over until March 20.
I will again focus on the gardens and how they fared during that fickle month of March, which went back and forth between classic spring days to, well, classic winter days.


March 8: Morning sun illuminates the two-trunk Sycamore in the distance, seen from the kitchen bay window








March 21: early morning scene outside the kitchen bay window








March 21: early morning scene from a kitchen window













Herb Garden Transformation Project (HGTP):


March 4 - Richard had installed new stepping stones from the parking area to the porch door! No more walking on gooshy ground after rain, or in the snow.


March 7 



March 20 - Vernal Equinox






March 21 - morning






March 21 - afternoon









Perhaps the progression of Daffodils painted the most distinctive pictures of the changes throughout March:










March 3: first buds ready to open






March 4: first blooms


March 20






March 21 - morning







March 21 - afternoon









Despite the snow and the changes in temperature, the budding of spring progressed throughout the month, foretelling the blossoms to come:







March 16: Volunteer Peach Tree buds opening






March 16: Volunteer Peach Tree - new leaves just starting






March 18: Volunteer Peach Tree buds









March 28: Volunteer Peach Tree flower buds swelling

March 28: Lilac flower buds


March 28: Lilac with flower buds and new leaves


The Allium family of plants was the first to flourish:

Garlic: 
Planted the previous fall. The largest part of the crop is Music, which I bought from a couple at the local farmers market a few years ago.
 So far, this variety has done the best in our climate and soil.








March 3: Music garlic









March 7: Music garlic

March 7: Music and miscellaneous garlic

March 16: Music Garlic


Garlic Chives:
These get really out of hand. During previous years, Garlic Chives spread well beyond this spot, inside and outside the garden. Last year I dug up all "renegade" Garlic Chive plants and am trying to keep them in this space only. I also clip off the blooming tops before the seed ripens.

March 7









March 16


March 20


Egyptian Walking Onions:
My original starts came from my father's garden in northern Indiana. This is another Allium that gets carried away, so I have been gradually digging up the stray ones outside this bed and using them as green onions. Later this year they will grow tall, blooming stalks that develop into heads of little bulblets. The tops will drop to the ground, and the bulblets will each sprout and grow a new plant - so, that is how this "walks" all over.
 It's a great way to have a good supply of green onions with little care.


March 7


March 16


Perennial Leeks:
I'm so glad I discovered these through Southern Exposure Seed Exchange which, among so many other things, has a selection of perennial Alliums that are hard to find but so easy to grow. These don't get as large as "normal" (annual) Leeks, but they perpetuate. Each year you dig them up and separate the clusters - save the large ones for eating and plant the small ones that grow clustered around the larger one in each bunch. A little bit of work just once a year.


March 3







March 7


March 16


And the big “Mystery Leeks”:
I have no idea what these are, except that these are Leeks. The leaves get wide and large. It sends up a very tall stalk with a large ball of beautiful white blossoms. They popped up here, in a row, after I converted the raised bed garden to the HGTP. I know that they are not any related ornamental Allium, as I have never planted those, but I had planted some kind of Leek before in the raised beds. Last fall I thought I had dug up every bulb, but this year they all popped up again - very mysterious things!


March 7

March 16, with Silas


Also, on March 16 I got the He-Shi-Ko Bunching Onions into the ground that I had started in trays indoors during the winter. I grow these every year, planting several seeds in each cell.







Other plants were also showing promise for the new gardening year:


March 7: Burdock
I'm raising these for the roots ("Gobo") that are medicinal and also delicious - with intentions of making my favorite Japanese salad, Kinpira.

March 20: Burdock


March 28: Burdock and Claus



March 7: Tina James' Magic Primrose
Come visit us when these bloom in June. We bring out chairs at dusk, maybe glasses of wine, and watch the pale yellow flower buds suddenly unwind and open up, and try to predict which one will open next. It sounds simple but these "Primrose-Watching Parties" are fun. 
At dark the Hawk Moth comes to pollinate the flowers.


Leaves of Comfrey just showing up on March 16. These will become very large leaves and plants with gracefully curved stalks of purple flowers that Bumblebees love. 
Also, the big leaves are very medicinal, used externally.

On March 19, my Black Current shrubs arrived from Shumway's. I soaked the roots in a bucket, then later put them in the ground, mulched them, and trimmed them back. 
Gardening is full of wishing, hoping, being optimistic, and imagining the future.






Speaking of wishing, hoping, etc., other things happened in the garden that were part of preparing for the future.


March 16: the space in the HGTP that I anticipate filling with Calendula.

March 16: Richard has planted two kinds of peas - Tall Telephone and Lincoln


March 16: Richard has gotten the old strawberry rows covered with straw (good thing, as we'd have snow some days later)


March 16: the area to become the new strawberry beds, and other things


March 19: Richard has gotten the space tilled


March 19: Richard using his new walk-behind tractor to till up new garden beds


What promise it all held, with days ahead of tending, babying things through the vagaries of spring, crossing fingers. The gardener's year does not have a beginning and an end. It is a constant cycle, every spot in the year having its affects on plants and animals above and below ground, tucked into buds and burrows or bursting forth into the elements.

As it turned out, April brought similar challenges to March, but further along on the continuum.


April 13






April 13: Richard's tomato and pepper seedlings







April 13: some of my herb and flower seedlings


April 15: on a snowy spring day, Greek Oregano plants are snug in their cells indoors


April 15: plant trays and bay window view


It would be awhile yet, but we could still dream of green leaves, colorful blooms, juicy fruits and luscious vegetables, all warm from the sun.

Someday.