In The Garden

A week ago I was coming back home from Connecticut on Interstate 91. Had a great time at my BFF’s daughter’s bat mitzvah. She did a wonderful job and is becoming quite a thoughtful young woman.

Bad safety. I also took a little video as I passed through Springfield, MA.

My mind was already in the backyard pushing the lawnmower around and weeding the garden. I took last Monday off to catch up with myself. I lose a little bit (or do I gain?) when I immerse into the hubbub of my friend’s active household and the racing clamor that is now southern Connecticut. I mowed the entire lawn that day. A 4-hour task.

We had a bit of frost last Tuesday morning.

The greenness of the backyard and gardens refilled my soul quite nicely. As the sunny week progressed, I continued the nonstop weeding process, filling my eyes with verdure and keeping my hands busy. Weeding is very meditative. Killing thousands of baby plants that one does not want in garden beds, thinning out the ones that one does want, and trying to do it quickly, efficiently. I use both hands and pull gently so as to get as much of the roots as possible.  Some of what sprouts from the garden are not weeds, but ‘volunteers’. These volunteers are desirable plants that come up on their own from seed sewn by nature, but if they’re in the wrong spot, then they’re pulled. Poppy, mustard, dill, borage …

Before weeding. The asparagus are all done by the end of June so they can share the bed with some mustard.

After weeding. Left behind some mustard, dill, and a borage plant, right next to the asparagus stalk.

Clearly there are still plenty of little tiny plants left in the after picture that one could call weeds, but most of them are just too small. Weeding is one of the more constant garden tasks, and weeds missed one day will be pulled the next. Some plants don’t mind weeds so much, while others like garlic and onions, are not happy unless they have the soil to themselves. Not sure why people whine so much about weeding. I bet they also whine about washing the silverware when doing the dishes. Whatever.

The mustard plants (purple leaves) growing beside the garlic are volunteers.

There’s a gardening method known as “companion planting” where one plants certain things in close proximity to enhance the health of each. We’ve used some companion planting principles in the past, but our more recent garden plantings are companions by chance. The compost pile never got hot enough to kill the remaining seeds of the dead mustard plants so mustard sprouts pretty much everywhere. So do the poppies, whose tiny seeds rattle around in the brown heads in the Fall and are scattered easily by the wind. This year we seem to have a lot of dill volunteers.

A whole lot of red clover came up before the Jerusalem artichokes.

Red clover is everywhere, and as a legume, it is able to gather nitrogen from the air. So it provides an essential plant nutrient for itself and for the soil in which it lives. Since the Jerusalem artichokes will soon be 8 feet tall, I decided to leave the red clover alone. Besides, the deer might just stop and nibble on that instead of getting further into our garden.

Our first batch of asparagus, raw.

I overcooked them, but they were yummy. Even with nothing on them.

So I hope that those of you who like gardening are out working in yours on this lovely Memorial Day 2009. This somber holiday is the traditional time when folks in Northern New England begin their gardening activities. It’s a nice counterpoint to the remembrance of the fallen who have served our country in the armed forces.