Comments on: Gardening in the desert, late-summer 2007 edition

By: Josh

Josh — Wed, 19 Sep 2007 12:14:34 +0000

This has been one of the least productive gardening seasons I’ve ever suffered. A combination of drought and large-scale construction on the street in front of my balcony has provoked and onslaught of plagues of different sorts and leg-counts. At one time in early July, I had four concurrent infestations, ranging from a rose fungus to my annual bane, the geranium moth. The end result was one insipid tomato, three bell peppers and several paltry, uninspired roses that withered almost before they finished blooming.

For me, however, none of that matters. Luckily enough, I don’t depend upon the soil for my subsistence (and here, most farmers depend more on CE subventions than the actual soil for their livelihood anyway). My terrace garden is merely a refuge. A place where I can spend some time creating something over which I have little to no control. I have the responsibility to water and prune, to fertilize and to fuss over my charges, but in the end, the experience is as Zen an activity as making sand castles on the beach.

Annie, you might look into hooking your washing machine up to some sort of greywater filter. I end up with about 30 liters of usable water after each cycle — more than enough for my plot.

By: PB

PB — Sat, 15 Sep 2007 17:22:33 +0000

sorry about the typos – I require much pruning.

By: PB

PB — Sat, 15 Sep 2007 17:20:51 +0000

Just this morning I puttered around my roses and cut 5 exquisite buds on long stems. Here is what my roses taught me in the past month:
I fussed over them all June and July with minimal floral payoff – then August was insanely busy and I have just walked by them and chatted my apologies as I have to everyone else in my life. Weirdly they have flourished in spite of neglect.
Last year they reminded me that I needed to care for them and myself. This year they remind me that they and I can survive lack of care with resilience and grace. Perhap I read too much in their enigmatic leaves – but I trust my roses as a metaphor – they are as symbolic sound as any liturgy.

This is a lovely post full of day to day beauty, moments that heal far deeper than the tumult of stitch and pill. xox

By: AW

AW — Fri, 14 Sep 2007 01:12:56 +0000

Thanks for comments and additional stories. I’ll remember them while I’m working outside this fall.

Dave and Stephanie, your raise interesting questions about the west and how westerners define themselves and prosperity. This might be a great topic for another post.

By: Demosthenes

Demosthenes — Thu, 13 Sep 2007 23:58:02 +0000

Out where I live in the heart of Central Washington I grew up (and continue to grow up) weeding, and mowing, and moving rocks ect… and I don’t really like it much at all. Mostly because it means work. Maybe with this new “soul-saving” prospective I will start to enjoy it more. Maybe :)