Harvesting Aesthetics

There are worse outcomes.  The sights and smells and occasional eats, and the landscape itself.  They satisfy in their way.   

A restful nap in the hammock, a lolling swing on the tire.

It is not without its benefits, this Eucalyptus Garden. 
Even if the squash have perished and the tomatoes continue to wither, the dill, for one, refuses to give in, it's succulent stalks and feathery leaves enduring through summer heat.

Despite having to toss another infested cucumber and watching something eat every leaf of one of the eggplants, the romaine lettuce seems to have found its stride, springing forth into daylight and starting to clump.

It is tempting to celebrate once again, as with the cucumber and squash, both of which quickly became so much compost material, but instead I'll note in passing that the carnival sweet pepper seems to have made a yellow one.  We'll see...

Something eats one eggplant.  The others like this one seem to benefit from the one sacrifice.  They haven't yet taken on the robust frame of a fruiting eggplant, but I have a growing confidence they just might.

Beans.  Henry said, "They attached me to the earth, and so I got strength like Antæus."  He grew too many.  Me, not enough.  Barely a bean bloom yet.  The heat disuades reproduction.  Or the humidity.

But the corn and sunflower grow apace.  Feeding tiny ants and filling empty space.

The beauty of it is as much its purpose as the knowledge that beauty creates.  The elemental security of this green earth, the magic of its incessant victories.  For what else, eyes?

Until next week.

Direct questions to The Gardener.

Obstacles

Week seven in the Eucaplytus Garden and we're running up against that thing called Florida.  This past week was much more in tune with the season - at least for most of it -- with temperatures in the 90s and humidity at saturation.  

Thunderstorms closed out most days, but not until yesterday did the clouds form overhead, above Lakewood Terrace. When they did, it was a thing of beauty.  Hypnotic.  I sat and let it wash over my senses.

But despite the rains and because of the heat and humidity, the promising summer squash we looked at last weekend have been consumed by a suicidal parasite.

One day these plants were green and the next they looked like this.  I had noticed a few days earlier that the sprouting end appeared stunted, but I didn't see any obvious infestation.

By Thursday it was impossible to miss.  The leaves have not merely died, they have first been eaten.  Something craved the suger they had stored in their cells, or needed chlorophyl.  Whatever it was, it completed the summer squash in less than 24 hours.

And now it has spread to the leaves of the cucumber plants as well.  What I see are tiny black dots on the leafs, what looks like spilled soil, but is clearly leaf eating vermin.

This is a cucumber leaf and baby cucumber that was healthy on Thursday.  The fruit has been eaten and has become a nursery, the leaf will be shrivelled by tomorrow.  The lesson?  Maybe squash needs more pot space?  I was told by my farmer friend that they would.  But maybe, too, squash are not a summer season crop. 

I have had success with all of the varieties that are not working here now during fall and spring seasons.  Next summer I'll try a few variants, but this may mean no summer squash...

The tomatoes, for their part, continue to hold on.  I have lost two plants and the one pictured here is yellowing around the edges of its leaves.  Something is building tiny webs in its branches.  But you can see that it has also bloomed.  

The eggplants are fighting what may be a winning battle.  This one has lost a number of leaves to some hungry insect or grub and yet it puts out a new one larger than before.  Other eggplants are growing in similar conditions.

As in all things, when you move from the close in detail to the broader landscape view, the garden continues to flourish.  Most tomatoes are still well, the lettuce has taken hold, the spices (cilantro, dill, basil, rosemary, and parsley) are thriving, peppers continue to grow, and the kohlrabi appears strong.

The corn, as well, continues to push skyward.  I have transplanted four mammoth sunflowers to the front yard; they are doing well, too.

And the little desert rose that got this all started, pushes out more leaves and begins to take on that distinctive bulbous shape.

Until next week.

Direct questions to The Gardener.

Flowers and fruit.

We've been lucky with the weather, that's all I can say.  It has been unseasonably cool and generally rainy, which has made these babies very happy.  I've decided to name it the Eucalyptus Garden, because it survives so well under the mottled shade of my giant Eucalyptus tree.

Eucalyptus Garden July 7, 2012

The squash got started early with their blooms, but little else had seemed to follow until this week.  We have blossoms on the tomatilla plants and the very first sweet pepper blossom opened overnight:

First sweet pepper blossom!

Same with the tomatoes, which in the first case seem to be having the hardest time of all fighting off disease.  Many have wilted and curling leaves or stunted stumps.  Tomatoes, the night shade family generally but tomatoes in particular, really like cooler evenings and less heat in general.  Nevertheless, we have our first tomato blossom, too:

First tomato blossom!

I don't see a lot of pollinators flying through my garden, but you can see there are also ants that are foraging the squash flower and, I think, helping them to go to fruit:

Zucchini bloom.

What is most exciting is the beginning of fruit production.  The squash, again, are leading the way.  Here is the very first cucumber, surrounding by all sorts of blooming.  We hope it offers inspiration to its potential siblings:

Cucumber blossoms and the first fruit!

Yellow squash has also shown itself, with this tiny gem having appeared during last weekend and grown just a little:

Teeny weenie summer squash (isn't it cute?).

We also have a single gourd, this beauty, taking shape on the winter squash vine:

Gourd baby.

The whole collection is doing far better than I expected when I began this experiment, although the really humid days are yet to come.  Right now, for a baseline, the garden gets about three hours of direct sun in the morning and about three hours of direct sun mid-to-late afternoon, and rests under the cool shade of the Eucalyptus during the high sun of midday.  The containers are probably too small for the squash plants, which I have to water frequently, but all the rest seem quite happy in their two gallons of dirt.

Until next week.

Direct questions to The Gardener.