First flowers of the year
Signs of spring are everywhere, but I really could not have cared less, until my last trip to the garden. I saw the blooming crocus, and then an even bigger source of elation. If there is such thing as a pessimist’s reward, this might be it.
My hollyhocks, long believed to be dead, mauled to the ground by slugs, had peaked their small leafy heads above the land!
Even my hoary vervain (right) which I couldn’t even germinate last year, are growing strong, after a brief moment of fungus gnat infestation. Hoary vervain (verbena stricta) is a North American native that grows up to 3 1/2 feet tall and this is what it’s supposed to look like and I reaaaaaally want them to grow.
Of course, all seedlings are equally special. I’m quickly running out of space for hardening off, and one of my goals this week is to take some of these out to make room. But I’m still recovering of the great pest trauma of last year.
I knew that pests would be inevitable, but I never imagined the level of their destructive power. Coexistence is a completely noble idea, but my last gardening season proved that sometimes there is no such thing as co-existing. It’s convincing to believe that the wild life in New York have super powers that make them indestructible. Insects never die, and mammals know no fear. Their tenacity is really admirable, but I’m still not sure what to do. All living things deserve their share of nourishment, but I too deserve to taste the fruit of my own labor, and to admire the flower that I have nurtured before having it ravaged! It seems like I’ve tried everything: beer drowning slugs, mosquito dunks for fungus gnat larvae, and shooing off the squirrels.
For now I have resorted to covering the seedlings with wide mouthed glass jars and bottles, and clear plastic containers. It seems to be working, although it won’t be long before the plants out grow the glass cage. I hope to learn more about nature farming, a method developed by Fukuoka Masanobu, although at this point it’s hard to believe that this would work in my toxic plot of land. But one can still dream. And learn.
blog comments powered by Disqus
First flowers of the year
Signs of spring are everywhere, but I really could not have cared less, until my last trip to the garden. I saw the blooming crocus, and then an even bigger source of elation. If there is such thing as a pessimist’s reward, this might be it.
My hollyhocks, long believed to be dead, mauled to the ground by slugs, had peaked their small leafy heads above the land!
Even my hoary vervain (right) which I couldn’t even germinate last year, are growing strong, after a brief moment of fungus gnat infestation. Hoary vervain (verbena stricta) is a North American native that grows up to 3 1/2 feet tall and this is what it’s supposed to look like and I reaaaaaally want them to grow.
Of course, all seedlings are equally special. I’m quickly running out of space for hardening off, and one of my goals this week is to take some of these out to make room. But I’m still recovering of the great pest trauma of last year.
I knew that pests would be inevitable, but I never imagined the level of their destructive power. Coexistence is a completely noble idea, but my last gardening season proved that sometimes there is no such thing as co-existing. It’s convincing to believe that the wild life in New York have super powers that make them indestructible. Insects never die, and mammals know no fear. Their tenacity is really admirable, but I’m still not sure what to do. All living things deserve their share of nourishment, but I too deserve to taste the fruit of my own labor, and to admire the flower that I have nurtured before having it ravaged! It seems like I’ve tried everything: beer drowning slugs, mosquito dunks for fungus gnat larvae, and shooing off the squirrels.
For now I have resorted to covering the seedlings with wide mouthed glass jars and bottles, and clear plastic containers. It seems to be working, although it won’t be long before the plants out grow the glass cage. I hope to learn more about nature farming, a method developed by Fukuoka Masanobu, although at this point it’s hard to believe that this would work in my toxic plot of land. But one can still dream. And learn.
