Here's a logical statement: the more you work in your garden on day one, the less you'll have to do on day two. The problem is -- it's not true. Take this week at the farmette. Yesterday, I diligently cleared one of the wildflower meadows of wild parsnip. Well, I hovered while Ed, wearing heavy gloves and applying all his muscle power pulled it out. There were half a dozen plants, each nearly five feet tall. Out they went, root stock and all.
But later in the evening he said -- you know, we have a ton of that stuff growing in the new forest. You want to come see? I'm not 100% sure it's wild parsnip, but it sure looks like the stuff I just pulled.
I walk over with him to check out the weedy land that we'd cleared enough to plant our trees. It is indeed loaded with wild parsnip. That stuff really should come out. But how to do this effectively? You can't pull out each plant. The soil there is rock solid -- a hardened clay made worse by the drought. We discuss the possibilities. Indeed, every time I cross paths with Ed today, all we talk about is what to do with the poisonous, terribly harsh to the touch and aggressively spreading wild parsnip.
By the end of the day, we conclude that there are only two options: either keep mowing the whole acre (or is it more?) of land so that this horrible invasive never goes to seed, or we hire someone to till the land all around the trees (several times, because just one till wont do much to get rid of the weeds -- there are too many, the roots are too deep, and we wont use herbicide) and plant a cover crop. I of course favor option number two. I've wanted to do something about the weeds growing in what was once pasture land for a long time. But deciding who to hire (we don't have the equipment for tilling) and what cover crop to put in -- now that's a whole big project for Ed. He wont just read a few suggestions and plunge into it like I would. He has to first study the problem.
I can see that our tree planting project has just become complicated again.
* * *
It is another gorgeous day. Really brilliant (but for the long term absence of rain). Not too hot either. It's the kind of day you long for on all those other days when the weather is rotten and you're thinking -- why can't we have a nice, sunny day with a gentle breeze and crispy clean air? Well, we got it. Today.
And I know what I must do (while Ed mulls over the problem of the parsnip and the cover crop): I really have to continue with my watering efforts. Yes, there is a chance of rain Thursday night, but I can't count on it. And you know your flower fields are in trouble when some of the day lilies are getting telltale dried out leaves.
And so I mow some edges, I weed a huge (and I mean huge) amount, and I water -- six and a half of the flower fields (I have a total of eleven last I counted). Each plant deserves a long pause with the hose and there are a lot of plants. It takes a whole day to get through just that much.
(I pause toward noon for breakfast...)
There are benefits to spending this much time on yard work. Some of them are obvious: the Fitbit gets very excited on my full days of work. The steps just keep on multiplying. But, too, standing over each plant, giving it water, bending down to weed its base -- this is all immensely satisfying. I swear it looks immediately refreshed. Grateful for the long soak. Ready to grow and thrive.
(Still loving the sweet peas...)
(still loving the now fully staked Delphinium...)
(and really liking the first big burst of day lilies alongside a lavender bush...)
One of the farmers who sends me a weekly newsletter described her plants right now as being like adolescents: bursting with energy, ready to reach for the sky, to do the impossible! I can see that. By Fall, they'll realize their genetic and environmental limitations, but right now, if you give them water and light, they'll explode with positive energy! And so a day outside, watering and clearing each plant is both essential and immensely rewarding.
Too, there are the less expected pleasures: watching the dragon flies. And seeing the butterflies land on their favorite flowers. Like this Great Spangled Fritillary: orange, landing on orange.
* * *
If work breeds more work, then does leisure time push you to seek more of it? Because if that's the case then maybe we're going about our days in completely the wrong way! I read an article the other day about clever tub pools people put into their small yards, with decks built around them so that you can sit back, dangle your feet in cool water, maybe while reading a good book and sipping your favorite iced tea. Shouldn't we be looking into raised pools and lounging chairs rather than cover crops and nut producing trees, to say nothing of planting endless flowers, meadows and who knows what else?
* * *
In the evening, Ed went off on his bicycle and I scooted up and down the rural roads on my moped, taking in a beautiful end of day. We're almost done with spring and surely it's been a bit weird season weather-wise, but honestly, I could not imagine a more stunning set of days. All this and vaccinations too! We are grateful.
(Not quiet sunset time.... But close!)
