Hey, Young’un! I got around to beginning a native plant garden 4 years ago when I was 79 and became interested in pollinators. By now much of my yard that can be planted with native pollinating plants is but I am not trying to do more than control where the St Augustine I inherited lives. That grass plus the pollinator garden sign in the middle of the native plant garden that runs down one side of the lot to the front sidewalk seems to have kept complaints at bay. Or, maybe it’s the hundreds (literally) of butterflies they and their kids stop by to see.
Yep. It's so heartbreaking. Anything left in my "drought resistant" veggie garden -- which was crowded, lush, and chaotic in June and is now full of gaps where plants desiccated and crumbled -- will be worshiped as gods and I will dress up nice and sing songs to plant them, everything else will be whatever will live (native wildflowers, cover crops, bird shat volunteers), and feed soil and wildlife. After the polar vortex and End Times Summer, I'm just glad to see anything live. I used to see so many beneficial insects and spiders, and this year I saw maybe two ladybugs, a few lacewings, some butterflies. Lots of paper wasps though!
I sometimes suggest half seriously to me friends who live in drought prone regions that they start planting edible cactus and look up ways of preparing them for food.
But really, I am serious. As climate change (chaos) grips us, a lot of native plants will be pushed out. Time to consider things that will cope with a more extreme climate that will inevitably arrive. We'll also stave off the heartache along the way.
I always enjoy reading your blog but it was especially relevant to me in my recent garden musings. I'm still trying to garden for food but it is becoming a real challenge. I saw Frog-fruit growing in the "lawn" outside Dollar General a few days ago. It had been neatly mowed by the lawn crew as they do every two weeks. It actually looked better than the bermuda grass. It was blooming it's tiny head off.
My vegetable garden has become a sea of cardboard with tiny islands of tomatoes, crowder peas and sweet potatoes. I am cloning the tomatoes that held on the best for another planting after that elusive cold front makes it here.
Hang in there my friend. This is our new reality and we can make the best darn lemonade we can. By the way, Sumac berries are ripe and they are deliciously tart.
Ooh, boy, it sounds like you’re at the point I’m at with this summer. I had such high hopes for my new garden. I planted native understory trees and shrubs and perennials for the wildlife. Now it’s all I can do to water them to ensure they are still alive before I run indoors to wait out the horrid temperatures. I think I have a case of SAD.
But to your thoughts about gardening in your 60’s. I’ll be 70 in a couple months and we used the opportunity of moving to buy a house with a much, much smaller yard than I was used to. That was on purpose. But after these last two summers we’ve decided to start looking for an affordable rental in the mountains to escape to for a month next summer (and all the following summers?). Yet I’m scared that I won’t have the yard in good enough shape to survive without me. Lots of hard thinking going on right now. I think part of it will have to be thinking it’s ok if something dies. And getting more of those aggressive natives in the right places. Thanks for your post. It means I’m not alone!
YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We so totally agree. Oh my gosh yes. These wild gardens feel different too...they awaken something within us that is completely different than a super tended, landscaped garden with plants that behave in the way we humans want them to. The native plants that we mostly didn't plant and that thrive are the ones most utilized by the wildlife here. Steve calls it Full Immersion. :) We hope for rain for you soon. Drought is the worst. We've been on the opposite spectrum with rain most days and incredible coolness and cloudiness. This week we are supposed to hit 90 for the first time all summer and have sun most days. The other night we were 49....totally not a regular temp of the past for August. Hugs to you Misti. Thanks for sharing these thoughts!
I think this one needs a trigger warning. Heavy especially because our air quality is the worst in the country today...I probably need to start journaling about how wildfire smoke makes me feel though.
I’m sorry you all have had a summer to end all summers- that brings the realities of climate change to your door where they can’t be sugar coated. I appreciate you caring so much and writing for a more beautiful world. You did that years ago and you are still doing it- it just looks different. I try to always find the hope and I think there is hope in letting go and letting nature do it’s thing but I also have days like today where the hope is harder to find. Hoping hope hits closer to home for both of us.
Hey, Young’un! I got around to beginning a native plant garden 4 years ago when I was 79 and became interested in pollinators. By now much of my yard that can be planted with native pollinating plants is but I am not trying to do more than control where the St Augustine I inherited lives. That grass plus the pollinator garden sign in the middle of the native plant garden that runs down one side of the lot to the front sidewalk seems to have kept complaints at bay. Or, maybe it’s the hundreds (literally) of butterflies they and their kids stop by to see.
Never-To-Old!
Yep. It's so heartbreaking. Anything left in my "drought resistant" veggie garden -- which was crowded, lush, and chaotic in June and is now full of gaps where plants desiccated and crumbled -- will be worshiped as gods and I will dress up nice and sing songs to plant them, everything else will be whatever will live (native wildflowers, cover crops, bird shat volunteers), and feed soil and wildlife. After the polar vortex and End Times Summer, I'm just glad to see anything live. I used to see so many beneficial insects and spiders, and this year I saw maybe two ladybugs, a few lacewings, some butterflies. Lots of paper wasps though!
I sometimes suggest half seriously to me friends who live in drought prone regions that they start planting edible cactus and look up ways of preparing them for food.
But really, I am serious. As climate change (chaos) grips us, a lot of native plants will be pushed out. Time to consider things that will cope with a more extreme climate that will inevitably arrive. We'll also stave off the heartache along the way.
I always enjoy reading your blog but it was especially relevant to me in my recent garden musings. I'm still trying to garden for food but it is becoming a real challenge. I saw Frog-fruit growing in the "lawn" outside Dollar General a few days ago. It had been neatly mowed by the lawn crew as they do every two weeks. It actually looked better than the bermuda grass. It was blooming it's tiny head off.
My vegetable garden has become a sea of cardboard with tiny islands of tomatoes, crowder peas and sweet potatoes. I am cloning the tomatoes that held on the best for another planting after that elusive cold front makes it here.
Hang in there my friend. This is our new reality and we can make the best darn lemonade we can. By the way, Sumac berries are ripe and they are deliciously tart.
Kathleen
Ooh, boy, it sounds like you’re at the point I’m at with this summer. I had such high hopes for my new garden. I planted native understory trees and shrubs and perennials for the wildlife. Now it’s all I can do to water them to ensure they are still alive before I run indoors to wait out the horrid temperatures. I think I have a case of SAD.
But to your thoughts about gardening in your 60’s. I’ll be 70 in a couple months and we used the opportunity of moving to buy a house with a much, much smaller yard than I was used to. That was on purpose. But after these last two summers we’ve decided to start looking for an affordable rental in the mountains to escape to for a month next summer (and all the following summers?). Yet I’m scared that I won’t have the yard in good enough shape to survive without me. Lots of hard thinking going on right now. I think part of it will have to be thinking it’s ok if something dies. And getting more of those aggressive natives in the right places. Thanks for your post. It means I’m not alone!
YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We so totally agree. Oh my gosh yes. These wild gardens feel different too...they awaken something within us that is completely different than a super tended, landscaped garden with plants that behave in the way we humans want them to. The native plants that we mostly didn't plant and that thrive are the ones most utilized by the wildlife here. Steve calls it Full Immersion. :) We hope for rain for you soon. Drought is the worst. We've been on the opposite spectrum with rain most days and incredible coolness and cloudiness. This week we are supposed to hit 90 for the first time all summer and have sun most days. The other night we were 49....totally not a regular temp of the past for August. Hugs to you Misti. Thanks for sharing these thoughts!
Misti,
I think this one needs a trigger warning. Heavy especially because our air quality is the worst in the country today...I probably need to start journaling about how wildfire smoke makes me feel though.
I’m sorry you all have had a summer to end all summers- that brings the realities of climate change to your door where they can’t be sugar coated. I appreciate you caring so much and writing for a more beautiful world. You did that years ago and you are still doing it- it just looks different. I try to always find the hope and I think there is hope in letting go and letting nature do it’s thing but I also have days like today where the hope is harder to find. Hoping hope hits closer to home for both of us.