Live Oaks and Mulch

A sure sign of spring in Northwest Florida is when the live oak trees start dropping their leaves. This process takes around two weeks and then they will push out beautiful new green leaves.

Most folks around here see this as an extra chore--raking and bagging to keep their lawns neat and green, but I see it as free mulch. My husband and I were driving through my parent's neighborhood on what was apparently yard trash pickup day. There were rows and rows of bagged oak leaves calling to us from the side of the road. We were in the truck. We could fit dozens of them in the bed of the truck--all that free organic matter that would eventually break down into beautiful rich soil. Did we do it? Nah. Sorry. The thought of taking home bags of trash from strangers didn't quite sit right for me. In the end I realized that there was no telling what else they might have stashed in those bags...

It did bring up the thought of the absurdity of modern American gardening, though. How silly is it to bag up organic matter to send off to landfills, and then trotting off to the store to buy fertilizer and mulch?

I stumbled on this amusing little story on the web:

GOD: St. Francis, you know all about gardens and nature. What in the world is going on down there in the USA? What happened to the dandelions, violets, thistle and stuff I started eons ago? I had a perfect, no-maintenance garden plan. Those plants grow in any type of soil, withstand drought and multiply with abandon. The nectar from the long lasting blossoms attracts butterflies, honeybees and flocks of songbirds.

I expected to see a vast garden of colors by now. But all I see are these green rectangles.

ST. FRANCIS: It's the tribes that settled there, Lord. The Suburbanites. They started calling your flowers weeds and went to great lengths to kill them and replace them with grass.

GOD: Grass? But it's so boring. It's not colorful. It doesn't attract butterflies, birds and bees, only grubs and sod worms. It's temperamental with temperatures. Do these Suburbanites really want all that grass growing there?

ST. FRANCIS: Apparently so, Lord. They go to great pains to grow it and keep it green. They begin each spring by fertilizing grass and poisoning any other plant that crops up in the lawn.

GOD: The spring rains and warm weather probably make grass grow really fast. That must make the Suburbanites happy.

ST. FRANCIS: Apparently not, Lord. As soon as it grows a little, they cut it, sometimes twice a week.

GOD: They cut it? Do they then bale it like hay?

ST. FRANCIS: Not exactly Lord. Most of them rake it up and put it in bags.

GOD: They bag it? Why? Is it a cash crop? Do they sell it?

ST. FRANCIS: No, sir -- just the opposite. They pay to throw it away.

GOD: Now, let me get this straight. They fertilize grass so it will grow. And when it does grow, they cut it off and pay to throw it away?

ST. FRANCIS: Yes, sir.

GOD: These Suburbanites must be relieved in the summer when we cut back on the rain and turn up the heat. That surely slows the growth and saves them a lot of work.

ST. FRANCIS: You aren't going to believe this, Lord. When the grass stops growing so fast, they drag out hoses and pay more money to water it so they can continue to mow it and pay to get rid of it.

GOD: What nonsense. At least they kept some of the trees. That was a sheer stoke of genius, if I do say so myself. The trees grow leaves in the spring to provide beauty and shade in the summer. In the autumn they fall to the ground and form a natural blanket to keep moisture in the soil and protect the trees and bushes. Plus, as they rot, the leaves form compost to enhance the soil. It's a natural circle of life.

ST. FRANCIS: You'd better sit down, Lord. The Suburbanites have drawn a new circle. As soon as the leaves fall, they rake them into great piles and pay to have them hauled away.

GOD: No. What do they do to protect the shrub and tree roots in the winter and to keep the soil moist and loose?

ST. FRANCIS: After throwing away the leaves, they go out and buy something which they call mulch. They haul it home and spread it around in place of the leaves.

GOD: And where do they get this mulch?

ST. FRANCIS: They cut down trees and grind them up to make the mulch.

GOD: Enough! I don't want to think about this anymore.

'Nuff said.

A Lawn Attempt

When we rebuilt our home, we decided not to bother replanting the lawn. That choice has worked very well for us in the area where the lawn used to be, but we are on almost an acre of property, and with the loss of so many trees, the weeds had become rampant. Last year I tried a wildflower meadow, but the weeds took over and it looked worse. This winter I decided to create a "lawn-thing" in the area we can see from the house.

It's not a real lawn. I tossed annual rye grass and clover seed around the area. The grass will die by mid-summer, and hopefully the clover will survive, along with native grasses and other green things.

We don't own a lawnmower. We have one of those DR Trimmers for the rough stuff, but nothing that can handle this soft grass. So my poor husband has to trim it with his weed-whacker.

Meanwhile, squirrels have taken over the bird feeders.

I'm Back...

The heat of the summer here eventually drives me indoors, and my poor garden succumbs to the weeds. Now it's spring and the weather is beautiful. I have a lot of work ahead of me, but it's nice to stop and observe what's blooming so far.

Hands Across the Sand

As the oil spill nears our beautiful white sands, I'd like to send out a plea to all of you. There is a movement that is being organized to gather people on beaches everywhere to join hands and show support for protecting our coastlines. The website of the organizers is at http://www.handsacrossthesand.com. Please visit the site and check your area to see where people are gathering in your area and join in this event. Even if you live in a land-locked state or outside the US, you might find a gathering to show support.

While we can't undo what has already occurred, lets all make sure this doesn't happen again.

"Hands Across the Sand is a movement made of people of all walks of life and crosses political affiliations. This movement is not about politics; it is about protection of our coastal economies, oceans, marine wildlife, fishing industry and coastal military missions. Let us share our knowledge, energies and passion for protecting all of the above from the devastating effects of oil drilling."

Water Water Everywhere...

I've been a little slow in posting recently, but not slow in working on the garden. It's been hot and humid, and I've just had to dive in, pull weeds, and tame vines.

The talk around here is all about the big oil spill. Tar balls have finally appeared on our beaches, and the smell is bad when the wind blows in from the southwest.

We live a mere block from the sea, but we are not directly on the Gulf of Mexico, but on a sound that has two narrow passes. As long as they can keep the oil out of those two passes, our waters will be safe.

We have a creek that winds through our property that originates from an underwater spring a few blocks inland from us. Our little peninsula is full of creeks like ours.

The creek widens as it moves towards the sea. The above photo shows the widest part of it, which is at the edge of our property. Our little creek is tidal, which means whatever is in the sea can be pushed up our little creek. Right now it's teaming with life.

The above picture is the canal they built across the street from us. The creek runs under the street, and into the canal, which empties into the sea.

Whatever happens in the next few weeks and months is hard to say. I do know that Mother Earth is a tough old lady who has endured much worse. Life prevails, and even wounds from disasters--natural or manmade--eventually heal.

Spidey Sense

Spiders are not creatures I'd be inclined to keep as pets, but I do appreciate the work they do around the garden. In fact, it's forbidden in my house to kill a spider. The correct method of elimination is to make use of the Eviction Jar and relocate them outside somewhere. If you're brave, like my husband, you can pick them up with your fingers to deport them, but squashing is not allowed.

This odd-looking fellow turns up every year and hangs out in the same spot on my live oak tree. He makes his web high enough not to be a problem to anyone. Apparently, he's called a spiny orb-weaver and you can see that he's busy making a snack of a careless fly here.

The most numerous spiders in my garden are the orchard spiders. For years I thought they were brown widows, until I looked closer and saw that they are more green. The problem with these guys is that they tend to make their webs in pathways. So, every walk through the garden includes a Spider Stick to clear the way.

Does anyone else see a smiley face on this spider?

I have hundreds of other spiders, of course. Black widows, brown widows, little jumping spiders, huge wolf spiders, and those pale ones that hang from the oak trees, to name a few--all doing a great job of eating insects in my garden.

Doing the Garden, Digging the Weeds. Who Could Ask for More?

The thing about really diving into the garden and getting some work done, is that at the end of the day you don't always have the energy to blog about it, let alone run around with the camera. I am happy to say, though, that the garden is finally starting to shape up.

I've been weeding and transplanting and keeping the local economy afloat by visiting my local nursery several times a week. It's dangerous when you have an amazingly awesome nursery barely a mile away from your house.

My bananas have finally woken up. My property may wind up looking like a banana plantation, because I purchased two more banana plants, just in case the old ones hadn't made it. That's okay, though. I'm using the new bananas to block an ugly view of our neighbor's property.

Most of my caladium did not survive last winter's frost, but I snatched up bags full of them when they went half-price at Lowe's. They were already sprouting in the bags, so they put out their leaves almost immediately when I planted them. I'm also happy to report that I have achimenes plants popping up.

I was fussing so much at a gardenia shrub that has been so yellow and sickly for so long (and not blooming yet), that I completely overlooked one deep in my "jungle" that is blooming like crazy.

I wandered outside with my camera, and the lens fogged up from the humidity. I thought I'd wiped it enough, but the pictures came out blurry anyhow. I do like the soft dreamy look, anyhow. That's the bottom side of my Queen Anne's lace which has grown to about five feet high.

A pair of mourning doves have built a nest in the live oak tree just outside our front door.

This dragonfly was napping on the same twig for hours. I was beginning to think he was dead, but then he suddenly flew away.