Promises, Promises

September is a transition month here in Central Texas.  I've been tracking rainfall everyday since 2010. and September is the month that we start to get some rain. It's that glorious moisture that gets my gardening juices going again and I start to plan for what I will be putting into the fall vegetable garden.  Of course we still have the heat - that won't break until October.

Rainfall By Month
	2010	2011	2012	2013	2014
January		1.89	3.71	3.14	0.54
February		0.81	3.09	0.49	1.03
March		0.22	6.03	1.89	1.58
April	1.48	0.11	0.14	2.45	0.86
May	1.51	1.10	4.73	3.22	7.04
June	5.35	0.94	1.24	2.70	2.47
July	5.09	0.04	6.82	3.99	2.44
August	1.14	0.00	2.02	0.64	0.04
September	10.17	0.00	4.48	4.80	5.55
October	0.05	1.75	0.70	15.32	0.00
November	0.61	2.38	0.00	7.05	0.00
December	1.23	4.66	0.53	0.99	0.00
Annual Total	26.63	13.90	33.49	46.68	21.55
Average	5.33	2.14	5.15	7.18	3.32

We've been lucky this year that the summer has not been as brutal.  We had only a few 100 degree days but it's continued to be pretty dry.  These last three days we've had a nice little rain and it's amazing how transformative it is.  Suddenly plants that look like drooping sticks perk up and start to bloom.  The lantana, salvia, pigeon berry, barbados cherry, chile pequin, oxblood lilies and lindheimer daisy are all in bloom right now - literally over night.  We've even gotten a second asparagus crop.

So amongst all this flush of new growth I venture out and plant my seeds.

They can be such tiny little things but they hold so much promise.  Whether it be a chick hatching, a lamb being born, a butterfly emerging, or a plant germinating, they all just fascinate me.  Watching something be born is to truly see the strength and fragility of life on earth all at the same time.  How can all of this possibly work?  It's such a crap shoot.  Of course all of this wonder disappears as I pull weeds - but you understand.

In the garden I pulled off the alfalfa hay mulch that helped to trap some of that moisture and kick-start the microbial life in the soil.  I raked the beds and then drilled in my seed.  I add a dusting of compost on top to prevent the ground from crusting and to provide a little cover for the seeds.  Once they sprout and I thin the seedlings, I'll add back some hay for mulch.  I mass plant everything to make sure the soil in the vegetable beds are completely covered.   Where I have to plant in a row - like with my snow peas because they climb a fence, I plant something on either side.  This year I side planted a winter greens mix of kale, beets, collards, and dandelion greens.

Once I get my seedbeds planted, I use a piece of woven wire fencing to cover everything.  This keeps the neighborhood cats and opossums from digging everything up.  I'll take the fencing off once the plants are about 3 inches tall.

I also did a little weeding today and am happy to see that the rains have coaxed the wildflowers into sprouting.  I have bluebonnets in the granite gravel.

These will continue to grow and will form nice little rosettes from which will burst those beautiful lupine flowers.  In the front yard I've got gaillardia's starting to sprout and I noticed the Standing Cypress and White Prickly Poppy all have nice little plants started.  I hope this means that my front sedge garden will be a resplendent meadow again next spring.

This is what I love about living here.  Instead of getting ready for the winter to shut everything down, I have thousands of little promises luring me outside to garden.  Now if the humidity and night time temps would just drop...

Wordless Wednesday - Spring!

Localized Riots

Small riots have broken out in my yard.  Lucky for me they don’t cause any damage and the only time I have to call in the SWAT team is when the mosquitoes get bad.  Instead, my localized disturbances are a delight to behold and I sometimes find myself clapping and giggling with the discovery.  I’m talking about color riots.

I have an average size lot and house for my neighborhood, about .18 of an acre.  It gives me a nice area to garden in both front and back, without over whelming me with work.  No sweeping lawns or vistas here since my landscaping drifts consist of three plants at the most.  The yard is best appreciated in small bites and vignettes, which is why I love my little color riots so much.

Gardening provides many such moments where, out of the corner of your eye, you catch some tiny wonderment.  Yesterday I was out weeding and two Anole lizards were Tarzan-leaping through the foliage.  I could almost hear the roar of lions and screams of apes as they traveled from leaf to leaf,  making soft “splat” sounds as they landed.  It was then that I noticed this combination of flowers.  I love how the white rose peeks through with the laughing Gaillardia and the wispy pink phlox.

When I refilled my watering can from the rain barrel these characters demanded notice.  In the breeze the orange California poppies dance around the red mountain stage like Moulin Rouge can-can girls.  Careful boys, you’ll loose your hearts with these!

In the backyard, my ‘Crimson Glory’ rose winds through mealy blue sage for another fluff of color and distracts me from turning the compost.

Underneath the grapevine, Nasturtiums turn their faces to the sun and brighten a planter.  

My yard-art chickens and pig cavort through the pink Missouri primroses that are taking over the walkway.  

As I return my digging fork to the garage I walk by a shady spot with wild petunias and purple oxalis having nothing to do with the quiet greenery.  Look at me NOW they call.

And finally, the true riot of color, my wildflower area.  I have offloaded several bags of seeds in this bed and this year with the rains it has really paid off.  These red poppies captivate me every time and completely dominate your eyes.  Never mind that the other flowers are amazing.  

I’d like to brag that all of this was planned but the truth is that in true riot fashion, most of it is by accident.  As a gardener you have a vision of what COULD be, but the true delight is the discovery of what actually happens.  This is why I torture my visitors with yard tours where I point out these little moments and try to share the wonder.  Lucky for me I have patient friends and neighbors whom every now and then see what all the fuss is about.  No riot gear required.