Sunday, March 23, 2008
peach tree comeback
I was so relieved to see the peach tree produce a few pink flowers. With luck, those flowers will turn into peaches!
bottle brush tree
The bottle brush tree flourishes in our backyard. When you take a close up look at how the red bottle brush shaped flower unfolds, it is quite remarkable:
let's try it again
Recovered from the failure of my first attempt, I decided to try again. This time, I took a multi-faceted approach. I planted both starts (romanesco) and seeds (shelling peas, carrots, leeks, beets) in the ground. I also planted seeds (carrots, beets, leeks, tomatoes) in a mini plastic greenhouse. Greenhouses serve two main purposes: they provide a warmer climate for seeds to germinate (letting the sun through the clear roof while keeping cold air out) and they allow a gardener to find out which seeds are going to germinate before planting (ground space is precious so it's wise to transplant once the seeds have sprouted.)
As an aside, I was informed by my farmer friends that one should not start root vegetables (i.e. carrots or beets) in the greenhouse - oops!, because root vegetables don't like to be transplanted (their root structures don't appreciate the trauma.) Also, when planting seeds, the rule of thumb is to plant the seed only twice as deep as the diameter of the seed itself. Seeds are tiny, so don't plant them too deep! (I probably planted the carrot seeds too deep.)
With the seeds-in-ground-and-greenhouse-plus-starts-approach, I was hedging the risk. I figured that if the seeds in the ground didn't germinate, at least they'd have a shot in the greenhouse. If none of the seeds germinated, the romanesco starts would be my fall back. I closely examined the soil each day, hoping to find even one sprout. I scanned the soil, as if I as looking for a fallen jewel. Was this a carrot sprout or just another weed?
The peas came through for me, popping up out of the soil. It is so satisfying to watch a plant grow from seed:
I built a trellis for the peas, so their spindly arms would have something to grab. Fascinating how their thin green coils manage to wrap so tightly around the metal lattice. I managed to harvest a dozen peas...but the plants did not flourish. The romanesco did grow some, even as it battled some type of microscopic pest that ate holes through its leaves.
Remarkably, none of the seeds in the greenhouse sprouted. NONE. Was it too hot inside? Did I forget to water enough? Did the soil dry out faster than I could replenish the moisture? Did I use the wrong soil? Besides the peas, the seeds in the ground also failed miserably.
Every time I watered, I noticed MILLIONS of small black ants pouring out of the ground, their tunnels flooded. It was amazing to watch them carry little white eggs in their mouths, searching for higher ground. While the ants were numerous (and multiplying quickly), were they harming my garden? Did they interfere with the seeds? I sprinkled red chili powder on them to no avail.
My neighbor mentioned to me that she saw birds landing in the garden and picking at the seeds (I built a scarecrow in response.) If that weren't enough, the plot was getting covered with dead leaves from the bushes above and the local cats were using it as a restroom!
So let's recap. My second attempt at gardening was met with a massive colony of ants, a flock of birds, a gang of neighborhood cats and an incessant shower of dead leaves. While that is quite the list of formidable foes, something tells me that the challenge stemmed from a lack of more basic needs: lots of sun, quality soil and regular water. I finally realized that my plot received very little direct sunlight each day (maybe 1-2 hours in the early morning.) Also, the soil consisted primarily of hard, dry, urban backyard dirt. Maybe I should have put more thought into the location of my garden.
As an aside, I was informed by my farmer friends that one should not start root vegetables (i.e. carrots or beets) in the greenhouse - oops!, because root vegetables don't like to be transplanted (their root structures don't appreciate the trauma.) Also, when planting seeds, the rule of thumb is to plant the seed only twice as deep as the diameter of the seed itself. Seeds are tiny, so don't plant them too deep! (I probably planted the carrot seeds too deep.)
With the seeds-in-ground-and-greenhouse-plus-starts-approach, I was hedging the risk. I figured that if the seeds in the ground didn't germinate, at least they'd have a shot in the greenhouse. If none of the seeds germinated, the romanesco starts would be my fall back. I closely examined the soil each day, hoping to find even one sprout. I scanned the soil, as if I as looking for a fallen jewel. Was this a carrot sprout or just another weed?
The peas came through for me, popping up out of the soil. It is so satisfying to watch a plant grow from seed:
I built a trellis for the peas, so their spindly arms would have something to grab. Fascinating how their thin green coils manage to wrap so tightly around the metal lattice. I managed to harvest a dozen peas...but the plants did not flourish. The romanesco did grow some, even as it battled some type of microscopic pest that ate holes through its leaves.
Remarkably, none of the seeds in the greenhouse sprouted. NONE. Was it too hot inside? Did I forget to water enough? Did the soil dry out faster than I could replenish the moisture? Did I use the wrong soil? Besides the peas, the seeds in the ground also failed miserably.
Every time I watered, I noticed MILLIONS of small black ants pouring out of the ground, their tunnels flooded. It was amazing to watch them carry little white eggs in their mouths, searching for higher ground. While the ants were numerous (and multiplying quickly), were they harming my garden? Did they interfere with the seeds? I sprinkled red chili powder on them to no avail.
My neighbor mentioned to me that she saw birds landing in the garden and picking at the seeds (I built a scarecrow in response.) If that weren't enough, the plot was getting covered with dead leaves from the bushes above and the local cats were using it as a restroom!
So let's recap. My second attempt at gardening was met with a massive colony of ants, a flock of birds, a gang of neighborhood cats and an incessant shower of dead leaves. While that is quite the list of formidable foes, something tells me that the challenge stemmed from a lack of more basic needs: lots of sun, quality soil and regular water. I finally realized that my plot received very little direct sunlight each day (maybe 1-2 hours in the early morning.) Also, the soil consisted primarily of hard, dry, urban backyard dirt. Maybe I should have put more thought into the location of my garden.
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