My Garden Is Like A Duck

Here in "Sunny California", we've had nothing but gray skies.  For weeks.  It's made getting around hard, getting things done hard, meeting emotional challenges hard, and for me it means a lot of leaky windows and ceiling....  It didn't really feel too much like "The Holidays". 

But, finally, yesterday the sun came out.  So even though I'm fighting a bad cold, I gathered up my best Laura Ingalls "the crops can't wait" attitude and abandoned the ark to run over to the garden.   On the short walk over, with a few seeds in hand and some fingers crossed that the torrential rain hadn't drowned what little I had growing,  it seemed as if I was seeing the world for the first time.  Sun, light!  What a concept.  Everything seemed brighter and shinier after so much rain.

Until I got to the garden.  The garden, on the other hand,  looked barren and empty and just generally gray.  The raised beds were gray, the straw was gray, the skies by the time I reached the garden had even turned gray again....

But, like most things having to do with my garden, there was a lesson in it for me.  This time, one of appearances.  Because when I pushed away the wet and wasted straw, underneath was my own version of black gold and an entire eco system that seemed quite happy going about its busy work.  While the top was resting, the underneath was busy at work making a new life.  Or like the old duck metaphor;  no movement on top, but paddling like hell underneath.  Despite all the gray, that garden is anything but dead.  "It's Aliiiive, It's Aliiiiiiive" (imagine the mad scientist voice from some movie there....).

And I'm thanking the "green manure" for this Christmas Miracle.  This is my first season amending the soil using only the green manure method.  Whoa.  When I turned over that straw, I felt a bit of a marauding invader that had interrupted what was clearly a lively little community at work under it.   Best, of all, in turning over that first pitchfork full of dark, wet, lovely soil I unearthed more earthworms than I'd ever seen.  Can I get an AMEN?!!??  If there is a correlation between number of worms and healthy dirt, I'm going to be eating like Henry the VIII at a turkey farm!

Along with the worms, the monarchs have been busy at work despite the rain.  I found chrysalis' everywhere; hanging on eye hooks, off wrought iron planter stands, plants - you name it.  And proof positive that they are on track for their journey home I found this little monarch caterpillar working his way towards some milkweed.  I apologize all these were shot with my iphone...wasn't expecting so much excitement and didn't bring my big girl camera:

Once I saw that beautiful, healthy dirt, I found my inner Mary Ingalls, too, and set about actually doing some gardening.  

Fava Beans and Garlic:  I took them both out of their prisons and mulched between rows.  I need to order another packet of fava seeds to fill in the row and a half that did not sprout.

Carrots:  planted Botanical Interests' "Carnival Blend".

Beets:  planted Territorial Seed's "Touchstone Gold" and Botanical Interests' "Gourmet Blend".  First I put them between wax paper and broke the hard shells with a rolling pin.  I had lunch with a famous seed saver two weeks ago and this was his advice.  But, more on that another day.

Flowers:  planted some bulbs so that come spring I can attract some bees. 

Peas:  Made like a druid (see photo below) and inoculated and planted Territorial Seed's "Canoe" Shelling Peas around my tall wrought iron structure. 

I built more booby traps to keep the cats and racoons out and hoped the incoming rain wouldn't wash my tiny little seeds away.  

Then, as the rain began to drizzle down again, I headed home....  So, it's been a strange "holiday season", which for me also means I turned another year older.  I was alone, but I wasn't...  There were big highs and big lows.  And there was a LOT of rain.

But, maybe, like "the dark night of the soul", you can't see the light if there hasn't been some dark.    You can't swim smoothly unless you paddle.  You can't feel the joy if there wasn't some sorrow.  You can't build a new life until you've rested a bit from the old one.  

You can't grow an eco system below if there isn't some gray on the surface....