As we build and maintain our mini-ecosystems, we create living narratives and leave dynamic marks for everyone to utilize, appreciate, interpret, read, remember, and hopefully emulate, in both present and future.
The spring flew by, didn’t it? Hard to believe we soon will be dealing with long days, hot weather and our plants’ summertime water needs.
The cool (never extremely cold) and consistently wet winter/spring season has allowed us to put our gardens on autopilot. Even brand new plantings have required very little extra attention. Our storms have stacked up evenly over the last six months or so, totaling 20” of rain to date (TOLN reading), with more on the immediate horizon. Rejoicing in another easy year to be a naturist gardener.
This stretch of coastline is unique in our state and in all the world. The round-rock-cobble-reef, formed by enormous long-ago flows from two creeks: the San Onofre and San Mateo, make for rolling surf where keikis and groms learn to surf, and experienced surfers toy with waves that are perfect for simply being toyed with. When it was big, the grown-ups would ask us, “Did you make it out to first break today?”
Our climate zone is called Mediterranean, but maybe we should start referring to our weather as uniquely “Californian.” We get our rain in winter and spring. But in between what we call “rain events,” we can have some of the most beautiful days imaginable. It is not uncommon to appreciate a perfect 78 degree beach day, only to be immediately followed by cold blustery winds, heavy rain, and snow levels below 3000 feet. Three or four days like that and when it clears, we’re back to the beach! No where on earth is quite like this.
“Acts of creation are ordinarily reserved for gods and poets. But humbler folk may circumvent this restriction if they know how. To plant a pine for example, one need be neither god nor poet. One need only own a good shovel.” Aldo Leopold
December is a quiet month, at least in the world of nature. The natural garden is a quiet place as well, and a perfect refuge for us in a month when many are running about…
Fall is in the air and the breeze, in the soil and on the calendar. And just in time, as always, comes the perfect precursor for winter, when our natural gardens grow ever quiet.
A season of hope. A look to the skies for the start of our rains. New birds arriving from distant lands, long migrations while others have left, flown south. The beginning of the horticultural year in the California natural garden.
We’re entering one of our two “tweener” months… we call May “pre-summer” and September “post-summer.” Now we see fall ambling up the way towards us, with not a care in the world.
