As the weather cools, and a little rain has fallen, I'm thinking fall is truly going to arrive on time this year.
We shall see. We have gotten used to surprises around here.
I went down to the garden this evening to turn on the water, because the kale and broccoli and brussles sprouts I planted are actually growing and need some fluids. But most of the rest of the plants are ... well, it's hard to describe their plight.
The eggplant in particular have had a terrible life. Every day they endured of heat and smoke filled air threatened to kill them outright. But somehow through miraculous processes of which I have no ken, kept themselves alive. Alive enough it seems to fulfill their eggplant destiny:
One must be silent when witnessing such courage.
They have no idea how close I came to pulling them up on many a hot afternoon when they looked as if they had photosynthesized their last carbohydrate molecule. Yet in the morning, they would rally and unfurl their shrunken leaves and carry on.
There is another pitiful plant that I had SUCH high hopes for when I planted them. This is what captured my imagination in the seed catalog:
http://www.territorialseed.com/product/Lil_Pump_Ke_Mon_Pumpkin_Seed
Who wouldn't want to grow one of those????
But alas, not even a side dressing of compost could help my pitiful plant.
And yet...
Valient little pumpkin.
If it is going to mature, it had better get moving, because the days are getting shorter.
The one shining success in the garden has been the zinninas.
I have picked flowers for weeks and they keep coming on.
They are the cheerleaders of the garden, steadfastly jumping and shouting among the ruins of championship dreams.
I have one more thing to show from my small evening walk around the homestead...
The "wheat field":
Eleven days old.
Would that ALL my plantings had grown so willingly.
But as a good farmer, I have hope for a better things next year. Different strategies, more diligent care, improved techniques. Though I am not in charge of the weather. This is forever out of our hands.
It keeps us humble.
And believe me, there is no more humbled gardener in all the valley than I this year.
But I'm not giving up.
It's not happening.
No matter what.
I will not be outdone in courage and tenacity by an eggplant.
One must be silent when witnessing such courage.
They have no idea how close I came to pulling them up on many a hot afternoon when they looked as if they had photosynthesized their last carbohydrate molecule. Yet in the morning, they would rally and unfurl their shrunken leaves and carry on.
There is another pitiful plant that I had SUCH high hopes for when I planted them. This is what captured my imagination in the seed catalog:
http://www.territorialseed.com/product/Lil_Pump_Ke_Mon_Pumpkin_Seed
Who wouldn't want to grow one of those????
But alas, not even a side dressing of compost could help my pitiful plant.
And yet...
Valient little pumpkin.
If it is going to mature, it had better get moving, because the days are getting shorter.
The one shining success in the garden has been the zinninas.
I have picked flowers for weeks and they keep coming on.
They are the cheerleaders of the garden, steadfastly jumping and shouting among the ruins of championship dreams.
I have one more thing to show from my small evening walk around the homestead...
The "wheat field":
Eleven days old.
Would that ALL my plantings had grown so willingly.
But as a good farmer, I have hope for a better things next year. Different strategies, more diligent care, improved techniques. Though I am not in charge of the weather. This is forever out of our hands.
It keeps us humble.
And believe me, there is no more humbled gardener in all the valley than I this year.
But I'm not giving up.
It's not happening.
No matter what.
I will not be outdone in courage and tenacity by an eggplant.