Archive for May, 2009

“Off with Their Heads.” said the Marigolds’ Queen

Sunday, May 17th, 2009

Friday, at the market, a box of Inca Gold marigolds (the big ones) kept singing to me, till I picked them up and brought them home.

Bold Gold and Bold Blue Beauty

Bold Gold and Bold Blue Beauty

I have a red/rust colored house,  lots of fire in the color, which leads me to usually choose white for my pots.  But that dark gold color waved its flag at me and convinced me the marigolds would be just right in team with a few white, wax begonias who are going to parade in a concrete pot that gets HARD sun.

I couldn’t figure out the resource for the plants, but I like their style.  The little box is supposed to have eight and there were ten because a couple littler plants survived.  The set wasn’t crippled by the little separate sections that have been popular for 20 years at garden centers.    I had to STIMULATE the roots to get them apart.   This is the same resource that sold the wax begonias.  I was already impressed, now even more so.

The ten plants were too many for the concrete container, but a generous line will background the begonias.   The remainder will make a vigorous pot of gold to decorate another corner.  Plus,  these had siblings.  If those containers don’t hear what happened to the early adoptees, I may be able to secure some more.  In this economy,  many gold marigolds can’t be a really bad investment!

BUT, do I want the tall, spindly sentries?  One flower, glow, fade, dry, all in a row?  No, this setting will take some height, but I want more flowers at once from a well fed root system  (They’re snacking on worm castings as I write.)

After letting them glow overnight because they are so beautiful,  out  came the scissors and off came their little golden blooms.

Now, in an effort to insure survival, they will put forth root and extra branches.   Each branch or stem is a source for a golden head.  IF this works, I should have a great pot of golden marigolds gracing the white wax begonias.

In worst case, I do have a picture.   Thank goodness for digital tools to preserve a view for the future of things that fade in the garden.

Now, to tell them over at the other Garden

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The Fallen Sentries — Tornado Be Gone!

Tuesday, May 12th, 2009

Friday, May 8, was an unusual morning. We planned on some rain.  I’d been paying the price of an encounter with poison ivy.

But, the storms came into the country from the west and wreaked severe damage. I understand the need for nature.  I watch those African reports where they show wild animals doing uncivilized things to one another under the gaze of nature.  I am not a tree hugger. I believe that a tree is a plant which will either be harvested by man, the responsible party or by nature through disease, bugs, fire, etc.

But, the vision of what nature can do in what appears to be a weathery tantrum, otherwise known as tornado is so saddening and appalling.

While people were injured and killed in the tantrum.  While their homes and lively hoods were twisted and blasted away.  While the winds ripped and tore, the massive trees that have stood beautiful sentry watch for hundreds of years were swept as twigs before the storm.  Suddenly, without warning, they were changed from oxygen producing shelters of wonder to shambles.

I just have a hard time understanding how nature could turn on herself this way and ruin these wonderful trees.  It doesn’t fit my softy belief system.  There will be very little useful gain from these toppled trees except for the microbial decay that comes as their mouldering carcasses turn to dust on the forest floor.   Some of the rubble must be burned to make room for the people as they come back into the land.   True, some will be carried away to chippers to become mulch and dust in a more useful manner.

And, time will begin to move forward toward the next  hundreds of years when the little baby oaks just in their second leaf stage have grown to stand sentry and provide shelter, air cleansing and amazing beauty.  Nature is part of time, grinding the grist fine and tight.  Makes us believe, if nothing else, that we are specks on the face of time.

The storms passed. People moved in to clear the rubble.  The next days were balmy, chilly, rainy, and then balmy again. The weather people tell us it is coming again in a couple days.   We will hunker down, humbled and saddened, then go back out to clear away the rubble again.

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