State of the Garden (Front)
Before enlightenment, snow shoveling. After enlightenment (so I’ve been told), snow shoveling.
Before enlightenment, snow shoveling. After enlightenment (so I’ve been told), snow shoveling.
Sage smudge.
Went out into the backyard despite (or perhaps because of) the freezing rain. The greens had a thin coating of ice, but were still bright. Picked big handfuls of mixed asian greens, arugula, and chard. The ice cracked off as I picked them. Later in the morning, I will saute the greens with tofu for a nice brunch. I have dough rising for pizza for the neighborhood solstice open house. I think about making crackers.
Tomorrow, some of the greens growing will be frozen food. I’ll make an italian bean and greens soup with those leaves. When it gets back up to 50F, which it is supposed to do within the 15-day forecast, there will be new growth. The chard just might make it all the way through the winter. The arugula — it’s less likely.
So said the meteorologist, when I called to check the weather yesterday before getting ready to go out for work. I thought, “it is easy to enjoy your day, ‘regardless of the weather’ living in a nice house with enough money for heating and cooling, working inside, and getting food flown in from wherever, if the garden isn’t doing well.”
I am awed and fascinated by the weather, although living this almost entirely protected and secure (from the elements, less so from other people) urban life, it is an almost vicarious relationship.
One of the reasons I love gardening is that it links what the weather — a rainy and cool spring like we are having; a drought, like we had for the past four years; violent thunderstorms; a snowy winter — with what food grows well, how my wildlife supporting little garden in the front thrives, helping to tie me back to the earth.
