Autumn's Surprise

June Strawberries fruiting in November.

Me and my freshly picked apples.

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Summer was coming to an end in my last post and I recounted some of the abundance I enjoyed in my garden, from the magnificent stand of flowers to my fragrant and delicious herbs. Back then I was sure that my garden would be put to bed and dormant by the time Thanksgiving rolled around. I was wrong. Mother Nature apparently wants to hang around my house a little longer and is showing herself in a most unexpected way...I still have flowers in bloom. My pansies and snapdragons are still showing their colorful heads and up until a couple of weeks ago I was still picking aji dulce (pronounced a-HEE DOOL-seh), a tiny, sweet pepper used in traditional Spanish Caribbean cooking, off my plants. Even more surprising is this...my strawberries, which bear fruit only once in June and very early July are not only blooming again, they are fruiting! This is most unusual. The weather is crisping up, the apples on my tree have been harvested and eaten (delicious apple pies and pastries, by the way) and nearly all the leaves have fallen off the neighboring trees, yet my summer strawberries are fruiting.

I find this all the more fascinating because of the brutally hot July we had this year that really put a hurtin' on all manner of vegetation, ornamental as well as edible. As a result of the summer scorch, none of my vegetables did particularly well this year and I am sure I lowered the level of the nearest reservoir in order to keep my plants alive. Still, in spite of the beating my plants took, they all survived beautifully. I suppose this very late bloom is my garden's way of thanking me for taking such particular care of them during the heat wave.

As is my custom, I read the happenings in my garden and relate them to the political events taking place in this country. It was no surprise to me that the Republicans rallied during this past election. Their steady, ruthless onslaught of Democratic candidates all across the country, much like the steady onslaught of July's ruthless heat wave, took its toll and the fickle electorate followed suit. Given the beating taken by the Dems, it would appear that the White House will flip back to GOP control in 2012. But I believe there is hope yet. At least that's what my garden is telling me, specifically my late fruiting strawberries. There is still life and strength in those roots that can rally at the most unpredictable times. I surely hope so. Lord knows we need it.

Ballo ergo sum - Gitana, the Creative Diva

Summer's End Approaches

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The last days of summer are upon us and once again I wonder where the summer went. Thank goodness I have the foresight to take photos else I would think my entire summer was wasted. Just looking at these wonderful images lets me know that my efforts were not in vain and the fruits of my labor, although fleeting, were well worth the effort.

The patch of transplanted marigolds that you saw in my last post filled out nicely. Here you can see a picture of them one month after the transplant and again as they appear today. They have grown so thickly that they have closed ranks with no space between the blossom heads. An insect could easily walk from one end of the patch to the other without need to take wing, so dense is the carpet of bright yellow orange blooms.  My coleus is not to be outdone, exhibiting its green-edged scarlet leaves in an impressive show. As usual, my black-eyed susans were a riot of flowers, completely taking over the northern border of my front garden. Alas, they will riot no more in my yard as I have uprooted them all and given them away to other deserving gardeners, keeping only a large potful for myself. I have reclaimed the space they used for next year's vegetable garden. I have enjoyed the few herbs I have planted this year so much that I am determined to do more of it next year.

This year I had a mystery melon appear in my garden. At first I had no idea what it was until it began to ripen and reveal itself as a canteloupe. I grew two canteloupes, one average in size and the other much smaller, about the size of a softball. The smaller one fell off the vine before it reached full maturity so it didn't sweeten up as  much as the larger one. I also have gourds for the first time, the seeds having been sent to me from North Carolina. Although I was told they would not bear until next year, I have two pears shaped gourds growing. My hope is to have them ready for painting for the Halloween/Thanksgiving season as these gourds are ornamental, not edible.

A Painted Lady butterfly takes a sip.

My garden is not only a haven for plants. It is a way station for all manner of wildlife. Butterflies, dragonflies, bees, spiders, caterpillars, birds...even my neighbor's cat, all seek refuge and perhaps a sip of nectar. For more pictures of my garden, including all it's visitors, please check out my photobucket album, My Garden - 2010 edition.

Ballo ergo sum
- Gitana, the Creative Diva

How Does My Garden Grow?

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I went to sleep very late last night and I was counting on the fact that, since I had no pressing issues to attend to, I could sleep in. No, that was not to be. I woke up after a few hours to go to the bathroom and that's when I heard it...the siren call of my garden begging for attention. Try as I might I could not go back to sleep. When she calls me, I must answer. Where I intended nothing more than to water the garden, She would not have it. She had been patient long enough, suffering through my extended periods of busyness wherein I could not tend to her. It was time to dress her up for the summer and She wanted me to lay out her clothes.

The sky was overcast with clouds that threatened rain. The air was somewhat cooler than it had been in the past week so it seemed like a good time to do the work that needed doing. Although I had pulled weeds and transplanted flowers last week, there still remained empty patches rapidly refilling with weeds and large clumps of marigolds to be thinned. Pansies and snapdragons that had spontaneously sprouted around the garden had to be corralled into their respective areas, and the snails had to be dealt with. All this I did, and as I uprooted, transplanted, weeded and watered, I couldn't help noticing the smile on my face and how good and energetic I felt in spite of the fact that I hadn't slept nearly enough. At last I stepped back to survey what I had done and I stood in awe. The weedy, open areas of dirt, the dense clumps of marigolds and haphazard patches of pansies were gone. In their places stood orderly rows of flowers and soil free of weeds. It was as if in the process of putting the garden to rights, it had undergone a metamorphosis. It looked better, to be sure, but it was more than that. It FELT better. It felt RIGHT. It was as if everything was finally where it was supposed to be and this created an energetic shift. I looked at my garden as if I was seeing it for the very first time, not unlike the way a father looks at his daughter when she is ready to leave for her prom, with pride, awe and wonder at the beauty of it all. It was a case of the whole being more than just the sum of its parts.

Just as I patted the last plant into place, as if on cue, the first drops of the impending rain began to fall lightly. As I gathered my garden tools to put them away, I remembered the lesson the garden taught me last week..."redistribute your assets and spread the wealth for you already have everything you need". Yes, once again She was correct. Everything I needed to beautify my garden had already been provided for me. All I had to do was put it in its proper place.

Ballo ergo sum
- Gitana, the Creative Diva

Talking with Mother Nature

As I have said many times in this blog, I receive some of my most profound insights when I dedicate myself to the care and nurturing of my garden. This morning was a perfect example.

What I intended to be no more than watering the garden became much more. I decided to pull a few weeds, then a few more, until I had weeded out an entire section that had been choked. When I'm weeding I generally come across little flowers hidden by the weeds so I "rescue" them, removing them from the weedy area and transplanting them to an area with more of their own kind that had also been rescued. In the process, I noticed that my lush stand of marigolds was so thick it needed thinning out, so I separated the many plants and transplanted them around the garden. I think it is important to note here that in contrast to my usual practice of purchasing annuals to perk up my garden, this year I did nothing of the kind. I was simply too busy to do gardening. Even watering it was a chore that I did hurriedly and inadequately. In spite of that, though, my garden is producing flowers. Apparently last year some of my annuals dropped seeds that germinated and sprang up in all manner of odd places. It's as if my garden was telling me, "Don't worry. We're still here for you." Lately, since I have been much more diligent about watering and tending to my garden, the flowers have been demonstrating their appreciation by propagating.

It was while I was transplanting the marigolds that a several revelations came to me. Upon being moved, the flowers and leaves began to wilt and look very sad, so I turned on the sprinkler and made sure they got a good drink to help them revive and settle in. Then I stood back to survey what I had done. It was then that I became aware of a few corollaries: The first of these is that people are like plants. When abruptly uprooted and moved to a new location, they become sad and weakened but will bounce back if given sufficient time, nurturing and the necessary tools. The second, and perhaps the most important of these corollaries hits a little closer to home. By separating one thick mass of marigolds into several smaller plants, I essentially "spread the wealth". The garden was telling me that I already had everything I needed and all I had to do was redistribute my assets. By carefully tending to what I already had before me, I could achieve my ultimate goals.

The first of these realizations I take as referring to my youngest daughter who has moved away to start a new life as a college student. I expect that sooner or later the first bloom of novelty will soon give way to homesickness and I won't be surprised to receive a few plaintive phone calls from her pining for some of my cooking or wanting me to massage her feet. (Yeah, she's spoiled. All my kids are.) The second I take as referring to, among other things, my current financial situation. My husband joined the ranks of the unemployed recently and has been unsuccessful in getting another job. We are in the uneviable position of having two children in college, a mortgage to pay and no income. I'll have to see how I can redistribute some of my "wealth" (which in my case has nothing to do with money) to address these concerns. Time will tell.



Ballo ergo sum- Gitana, the Creative Diva

The work begins

I could rant about the beauty of my flowers. I could go on about the pleasures of gardening and the joy of being ankle deep in soil and earthworms. I could even wax poetic about Mother Nature's glorious spring show. Today, however, I lack the words and the inclination to carry on so. Today I will let the pictures speak for themselves.

Ballo ergo sum
- Gitana, the Creative Diva

Spring Has Arrived!

Just a few short weeks ago, New York and the surrounding areas were hit with a snowstorm that brought the city to a halt. Last weekend the area was again buffeted by a devastating nor'easter that uprooted hundreds of trees, downed power lines and caused untold thousands of dollars in damage to homes, cars, businesses. Winter's dying gasp was memorable, to say the least, but no less so than Spring's first breath.

This weekend we were treated to glorious weather. It was unseasonably warm, bright and sunny...all the excuse I needed to head out to my garden to renew it and myself. I was joyously greeted by an explosion of color from my daffodils and crocuses. It seems as if everything is in a hurry to shake off the grey of winter and don the colors of warmer weather. Here are the first photos of my 2010 garden featuring two of my stalwart perennials. They, as do the burgeoning buds all around me, make me smile.

Ballo ergo sum
- Gitana, the Creative Diva

2010 Awakes

January. Winter. Cold. Makes you want to stay indoors curled up in a comfortable chair with a cup of tea, a good book and favorite afghan thrown over your legs. I haven't been in my garden since its annual clean up and winterizing ritual and haven't thought much about it until this week. Small branches and twigs had fallen and collected in an unkempt pile in my yard so I ventured out one relatively mild day to clean them up. In the process I discovered something surprising. My daffodils, well over a hundred of them, are beginning to poke through the ground. My old (over 10 years) strawberry plant is showing signs of green under the dessicated remains of last year's growth. My stalwart sedum (I swear you can't kill this plant) is coming back again as it has for over 15 years and the tender plants that I brought into the house in the fall are showing signs of renewed vigor. It appears the growing season has quietly arrived and is in full throttle.

The lengthening of the days since the winter solstice has worked its magic on Mother Nature and she is showing her appreciation with promises of springtime while thoughts of a bountiful garden fill my head.


Ballo ergo sum
- Gitana, the Creative Diva