After my post about Gardeners and God Complex, I’ve reaped some bad karma for my presumption.

First, all the seeds I planted when the soil first became workable died or were eaten by birds or insects.

Second, a drought has followed the cold spell that followed the warm spell that let me plant early.

Third, the peas came up but languish in the heat.

Fourth, deer jumped the fence and ate all the new pepper plants I had grown from seeds and just planted, along with the leaves of the Jerusalem artichoke, the asparagus (although we had a great harvest of asparagus), and the parsley that has gone wild in the garden. The deer did not touch the eggplants or tomatoes. Bought and planted more peppers, two of which have disappeared.

Fifth, within a day of  the cucumber seedlings breaking ground, they disappeared, as happened to the beets, parsnips and turnips. And something is eating the young squash plants. Moles? Birds? Insects? Grasshoppers?

Sixth, I planted a bed with beans, but now see I’d planted it with sunflowers too. It will be war of the world all over again.

Seventh, a special someone (not giving away names!) wanting to be helpful tilled the walkways between the beds so my feet sink into loose sandy soil whenever I walk the garden.

So, grrr, I didn’t take into consideration all the things not necessarily under my control. I’m hoping its not too late to plant more crops. What else can happen?

Two good aspects: the grapes seem to have abundant fruit developing for the first time. (I really need to learn how to prune those vines, and I’m sure the Baltimore Oriole nesting nearby will enjoy them as they did the Juneberries!)  Yet the rhubarb is doing tremendous and the ancient apple trees have fruit developing.

At my garden club’s flower show last Friday, my 22 year old Mammillaria elongata cactus took the Award of Merit (orange ribbon) in the houseplants class of the horticulture section. Yeah! (Except there were some very worthy entries just as deserving!)

Cactus winner

phloxs

Take a section of land, perhaps put a fence around it to protect it from predators, tear off all the existing vegetation, prepare the soil, and plant what you want to grow: that can be either a farm field or a garden, a human creation. Both farmers and gardeners create gardens by imposing their will on nature. The gardener chooses the location, chooses the plants allowed to live and grow, and what plants (weeds) to pull and let die. A gardener creates a world in a garden. Does that give a gardener some type of God complex?

Gardens are hard work and take continued effort. If the gardener doesn’t keep up their garden, the natural world, believed to have been created by the real God, takes over. Local nature reclaims its property very quickly, making this world-building ephemeral. So why garden?

Certainly gardeners create gardens for food. Even with the cost of seeds, plants, fertilizer or organic materials to incorporate into the soil, watering, and the effort of all the work, a gardener can produce enough vegetables to feed their family through the winter for less cost than the grocery story. There is also satisfaction in this production of food, and the taste is usually far superior to any bought vegetable. The gardener knows what chemicals have been used on the produce which is often not the case with purchased produce.

Other benefits come with gardening beyond growing the family food. The creation of flower gardens and landscaping offer the chance to be creative, to mix the colors and textures of plants into vistas of extraordinary beauty. They offer the opportunity to inspect the beauty of plants up close, and discover the differences of each species. Wonderful flowering scents can permeate gardens. Gardening activities and plant selections can be very successful; some are failures, so gardening teaches the gardener about nature, about ecosystems, and the extensive world of plants, which leads to a greater appreciation for nature. This can lead to explorations of chemistry, weather patterns, and biology, adding a greater understanding of life.

Gardens are peaceful. They can give the gardener moments of single minded, thoughtless work, relaxing an over wrought mind. Just as often, gardening gives the gardener the ability to expand their personal thoughts. Either way can be very calming. Flowers, branches, leaves, and vegetables brought inside and made into an arrangement can bring the outdoors in, bringing the same beauty and peace found in a garden to a room

The successful efforts gone into making a garden give not only the gardener but also others something to enjoy. Having a visitor appreciate a garden brings the gardener another reward. Yet, just standing in the middle of a garden can bring a special contentment. Another benefit–good landscape increases property values.

Gardens tell time, give the seasons a distinct joy. Each season has its special jobs, its special plants and blooms. The joy of the first daffodils, to the ending summer’s chrysanthemums bring unique happiness, and a warning of how fast time passes.

Yet most gardens are doomed. Sometimes it’s temporary, like in Michigan where each winter the garden goes dormant, often providing an entirely different beauty. Ultimately, though, when the gardener is gone, usually so is the garden. So, gardens bring a sense of mortality providing the gardener the wisdom to enjoy each day; so not quite God, but a God-like experience.

All these reasons and more are why I garden.

Here it is, six weeks later, and some seedlings have s-l-o-w-l-y begun to sprout. The spinach has been up about a week and a half and is only now putting out second leaves. This past week some carrot and kohlrabi sprouts began to show.  At least this give me some hope for the seeds remaining underground—they might spout yet. So okay, up here in north central western Michigan, you can plant as soon as the ground can be worked, but the results, like the weather, might be mixed.Six wees to sprout? Really? Kale, a very cold tolerant plant has shown no signs of germination, neither have the beets, radishes, or Swiss chard. It might work out better for me to plant some of these in late August and grow them through the fall, and just wait until about now to put other seeds in the ground. On the other hand, the annual seeds of camomile and parsley are all over the garden! They have literally turned wild and are competing with the Veronica peregrina, in other words they’ve joined the weed community. I don’t really want to pull any of them out. Perhaps the veronica would make a good ground cover on the walkways between the growing boxes? Gardening is an adventure and an experiment!

My daffodils. scilla siberica, and hyacinth  are all blooming, and in the wild, so are the Amelanchier trees, so I can state spring is well underway here. Doesn’t mean we won’t have more snow! However, the blueberry plants from White Flower Farm arrived last Friday and I planted them Sunday. Hope they survive.

Well, I’ve checked the planted bed. Nothing has popped out of the soil. While the soil remains workable, the weather has not. My location has been hit by several snow storms and very cold temperatures. I know when seedlings wither, they are gone quickly and probably invisible on my soil. So have some sprouted and died, or has nothing come up? Will the seeds remain viable until the weather goes from freezing to cold? Is it just the unexpected swings between seasonable and unseasonable weather this spring?  I expect to know if I have to buy more seeds in another week or so. Perhaps the ‘workable soil’ soil timeline is different in Northern Michigan than in Southern Michigan or further south. Certainly an experiment, but at least I’ll know  one way or another.

Yesterday morning.

Yesterday morning.

I planted some cold crops two Saturdays ago and another group one Saturday ago. As of last Wednesday, nothing had sprouted. Well, the plants in the indoor biodome have. Two types of tomatoes, eggplants, amaranth, and Penstemon ‘Rocky Mountain’ have come up. I’ve tried the Penstemon outdoors two years in a row with no luck, so at least I should hopefully have plants to put in the ground this year. Nothing else up in the vegetable garden except the carrots left over from last summer, and the garlic is coming up.

Thursday a long lasting snow-sleet storm hit the state, and even the community college where I teach was closed. The snow continued on into April Fool’s Day. It was very cold, but today (Saturday) is in the 50s. Most of the plants emerging from the soil remained impervious to the weather. I have twigs and branches to pick up and lots of last year’s stems to remove from the flower garden, and weeds emerging, so work is already lining up. But no emerging crops. Maybe that is a good thing.

Time will tell, but it started the season off early, and looks to be a different season. Looking forward to spring. Snowdrops and a few crocus are already up and blooming, and daffodils have leaves emerging from ground.

Kale

Kale

Spring is going to start early this year. Already the normal 12″ of snow covering my garden this month is gone, the snowdrops are blooming with many honey bees hovering over them. Since most garden books say as soon as the soil can be worked, the cold crops can be planted, I’m going to try it. Just watch, a week or two from now a heavy snow storm will dump on the sprouting seeds. I’ll discover what happens to those baby plants then. I’m ever a pessimistic optimist.

So what are cold crops? Mostly leaf or root crops started from seed that actually prefer growing in colder temperatures. They vary in hardiness, but most will survive frost, and some of them even snow. What makes them great are they are typically short season, too, meaning they’ll be on the table quicker. Many ‘cole’ crops are cold hardy, but cole refers to crops from the Brassica genus or mustard family, vegetables like broccoli, kale, collard greens, kohlrabi, cabbage, or cauliflower. While these are cold crops, many other vegetables are similarly cold hardy.

Most root crops such as carrots and onions (basic cooking foods) parsnips (mashed like potatoes only sweeter), turnips and rutabaga (essential for pasties), beets (borscht and pickled beets, yumm), and leeks (leek and potato soup) prefer cool temperatures. Some leafy vegetables like arugula, lettuce, spinach, Swiss chard, maché (a old leaf crop in France relatively new to the states), and parsley (combine all for marvelous salads, plus spinach and Swiss chard make good cooked greens) favor cool weather. I’ve seen parsley still fresh and ready to use growing up from snow. It is also biennial, meaning it harvests for two years, but it has also reseeded itself in my garden. Peas, which are grown for their fruit, produce best in cooler temperatures.

Some of these leafy crops like spinach, lettuce, and Swiss chard (I’m not fond of kale or collards) will be ready for the table by the end of April. If the summer is relatively cool, they’ll keep sending up new leaves even after several harvestings. The root crops will take longer to develop, but will be ready to harvest when tomatoes and pepper plants are only becoming safe to put in the ground (May 15th to 30th depending on your last frost zone).

Two more good things about cold crops are that they can be planted again in mid-August to the end of September providing a late season crop, but most seed companies have seed sales in the fall, so you get the seeds cheaper. One more good aspect of this is those cheaper seeds will be just as viable for the spring growing seed. I’ve grown fall season carrots, which are very cold, even freezing, hardy, and while I can’t get into the snow covered garden to harvest them, I have dug them from the ground in the early spring.

Trees in Dusk SkyMany science fiction stories deal with aliens, either aggressive sentient beings set to grab all Earth’s resources for their own, or beings we encounter in our own space exploration with whom we establish friendly communications and accord. Personally, from our experiences on Earth, I think we tend to fall into the first category, but hope we might eventually reach the second. We do try.

As self-appointed most intelligent species, our learning curve has been dismally flat in inter-species communications. Of the thousands of species living with us on this planet, we have only managed to instill communications on a few, a process called training. However, though we may understand our pets’ behaviors, we have never established true communications with them. How do we expect to communicate with completely alien species if we cannot do so with Earth species, say, like trees?

For the most part, we love trees. They grow into majestically beautify forms that inspire our imaginations. We treasure their shade, they increase the value of our property. We appreciate their lumber for its structural strength, the beauty of its grain in products we make from it, and for the fuel it provides to warm us.

We don’t believe trees intelligent because we’ve never discovered brain or nerve tissue in their physiology. However, even that is changing. Consider the paper Aspects of Plant Intelligence and another paper on the consideration of that topic. Then consider some commonly known facts. Trees clean the environment. They remove carbon dioxide from the air, and poisons from the soil. They control erosion and clean water. They can protect their own domain (soil), often changing it to their own specifications. They react to changes in their environment to preserve their existence. They make their own food. And they leave a long lasting, un-technical record of their existence (tree rings). So just how intelligent are we?

Plus trees outlive us by many years. The short-lived trees often reach between 100 and 150 years. Not so much greater an age than us, but definitely longer. The longest-lived trees often outlast us by hundreds or even thousands of years. If you check out the link just given, note Prometheus, the Bristlecone Pine. Prometheus lived for 5,000 years, faithfully recording the Earth’s history annually. What did we do? We cut it down.

Now granted, after Prometheus was cut down, other Bristlecone Pines were saved for the sake of the seniority they hold. Yet you can, hopefully, understand why I doubt our ability to deal with anything alien. Before we deal with outer space, we need to sharpen our learning curve here at home.

INTELLIGENCE IN TREES 5
References
Goldenburg, E. “n.d.” Last modified 2011, October 08, 5:12:44 PM) Eldan Goldenburg’s lab notebook, notes about my work and other peoples’.
Blog@Case. “n.d” Retrievd May 2 , 2009 from http://blog.case.edu/exg39/2006/06/01/plant_intelligence
Hightshoe, G. (1988). Native Trees, Shrubs, and Vines for Urban and Rural America, A Planting Design Manual for Environmental Designers (pp. 88). Van Nostrand Reinhold, NY: New York.
Prometheus (tree), (last modified 2012, October 09, at 23:18) Wikipedia. Retrieved from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prometheus_%28tree%29
Trewavas, A. (2003). Aspects of Plant Intelligence. Annals of Botany 92. Retrieved from http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4243628/?report=classic

My big brother Jim is a wonderful carver. He gave me some of his work that wasn’t up to his standards, so I’ve painted them and hung them on my bathroom wall, which is painted as water as seen in two of the photos.

Rainbow SnozFish

Rainbow SnozFish

Perch SnozFish

Perch SnozFish

Rock Bass SnozFish

Rock Bass SnozFish

Petunias are annuals in my zone 5a to 4b area. Seeds are not supposed to survive or we could plant them in the fall. Plus, petunias are hybrid, so if seeds did come back they wouldn’t be the same petunia, or at least that’s what I thought. So why did it happen in two of my containers?

The deep purple petunias are what I planted the summer of 2014. The pinkish purple, which have been overcome by the deep purple, were plants put in this past spring.

Last year versus this year petunia completion.

Last year versus this year petunia completion.

It happened in image of the second  container too. Here those fuchsia petunias did much better. Yet, those white and red flowers? They came from the red, white, and blue plants I placed in the container in 2014.

Red, White, and Fuchsia.

Red, White, and Fuchsia.

Both containers were buried in snow over the winter, once snow came. Until the snow, they were exposed to the cold of this area. So what happened?

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