Autumn's Surprise

June Strawberries fruiting in November.

Me and my freshly picked apples.

(Click on any photo to view a larger image.)

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

Winterizing has begun

Autumn, which was unbelievably cold and unforgiving just a week ago, has once again turned mild, albeit damp and overcast. In spite of this renewed warmth, I know winter awaits around the corner and can appear at any moment. With this in mind I have begun my annual ritual of winterizing the garden.

You might think there isn't much that needs doing in a garden once the flowers are gone and the leaves are on the ground. In my garden there are at least a dozen flower pots that need to be brought into the shed or placed out of the path of a snowblower. The same goes for the benches and the pots hanging from the fence. My children's toy wagon, in which I once hauled toddlers, pre-teens and groceries alike, now acts as my makeshift wheelbarrow. Every year I wash it, polish it with ArmorAll and cover it with heavy plastic contractor grade bags to protect it from the elements during the winter. It's my hope to have that old wagon around to haul grandchildren and grand nieces and nephews so I treat it with great care and love.

Every year I go through this winterizing ritual and when I have finally completed it, I always have the same mixed feeling of accomplishment and emptiness. The yard is cleared and ready to rest again until the next growing season, giving me a sense of accomplishment, but I miss the color, the vibrance, the life of my summer garden.

It's time to bring in the tender plants, leave the annuals to die back and salivate over the offerings in my garden nursery catalogs. Winter's approach may have chased me indoors but I'm planning the strategy for my next horticultural attack. I'm thinking less flowers, more vegetables, perhaps some gourds for fall decorating. Hmmm, I'd better rest up this winter. There's much work to be done next spring.

Ballo ergo sum
- Gitana, the Creative Diva

The Strangeness Continues

I've been lazy. No, I mean reeeeally lazy where my garden is concerned. For the past few weeks I haven't done much more than watch it from a distance as the winds picked up and tossed all manner of garbage in it. I didn't even bother to drag out the hose and water it since we've had some rainfall. Not a lot of rain, but enough to convince me that I didn't need to exert myself. I didn't need much convincing.

Usually this time of year signals the end of the growing season. The leaves fall, the crops wither and the blooms droop and drop, but that's not what's happening this year. To be sure, all the unmistakeable signs of autumn are upon us, as I can attest to by all the leaves I swept up today. There is a little chill in the night air and the sun goes down a lot earlier than it did a few short weeks ago. But regardless of these signs, my garden shows every intention of behaving as if it is mid-season. My flowers are still blooming fiercely, as are my strawberries, cucumbers and tomatoes. My cannas are standing three and four feet tall and are blooming and propagating as if it's midsummer. I'm still finding evidence of Japanese beetle grubs, something I usually only find in late spring and summer. If it were not for the many migratory birds visiting my backyard on their way to warmer climates, the season might be mistaken for early summer.

Today, in a fit of guilt, I decided to sweep the leaves out of the garden and clean up dead plants. To my surprise I discovered three more well-developed cucumbers on the vine along with a couple of tomatoes, some strawberries and lots of new blossoms. Unfortunately it is too late in the season for any new fruits to ripen so I snipped the blossoms off in order to redirect the growth hormones to the ones that were already growing.

So what's happening here? I'm not really sure but I have strange feeling that something isn't quite right. I just can't put my finger on it. In the meantime I'm going to enjoy this last, brilliant show that the garden is offering up. In the cold, blustery days of winter, I'm going to call up the image of those brilliant blooms to warm my heart and fill me with the promise of spring.


Ballo ergo sum
- Gitana, the Creative Diva