Letters from the garden: seasonal updates and stories
Much of my time during this season is either spent in my garden or longing to be in it. In the high desert, spring weather is unpredictable…there could be nights in the 30s shortly followed by days in the 90s. Gardening in this type of climate has proven to be one of the most challenging things I’ve done, not to mention the battle of living on the edge of a wild space, brings in hardy invasives and critters of all kinds. My attempts to tame this land into a cultivated paradise have left me humbled to say the least. Lest after seven growing seasons here I think I’m starting to get the hang of it.
Green thumbs aren’t innate talents, they are earned through equal bouts of failures and patience. I have had my fair share of both, which never feel very satisfying in the moment, but all have contributed to a growing rolodex of garden experience. My garden here started with a few simple wooden beds directly outside my bedroom door, not 6 feet from the house. These beds were here when we moved into the house in May, so I figured I’d get some use out of them (though I was sure they wouldn’t stay long term, given the half acre we had to work with). At the time I was working at a non-profit greenhouse behind a high school, where we taught students how to grow food and donated harvests to local food banks. In less than a year of working there, I had gained an immense amount of insight on how to grow in these harsh conditions. That would be invaluable knowledge and the backbone that launched my own garden to what it is today.
The first season came and went, which left me a few tomato harvests richer and even more abundant in the area of defeat. All was not lost, though, because what felt like losses then would translate later into adjusted growing practices, more knowledge on identifying pests and invasive plants, and exacting timing on succession sowing and harvests. With each season that followed came more additions, in 2020 I had been blessed with lots of time at home, which translated to a bigger, fenced in garden space in the back complete with 6 wooden beds. 6 beds grew to 8, then 10, and this year we are adding four more in a different area of the yard. In that time we’ve also added a 10x20 hoophouse, a perennial herb garden, fruit trees, chicken coop, and this year’s new addition is two bee colonies. Needless to say, my hands are full, the work is never ending, but so is the gratitude that comes with being able to stick my hands in the dirt on a daily basis. So, I thought this would be a fun series to start, because the garden is honestly the main thing that’s on my mind these days, and I’d love to share some of that wisdom I’ve gleaned over these years building out our little farm.
Ever since I worked at the greenhouse, I have developed an obsession with frogs and toads. We used to have tons living in that cool and moist environment, helping with pest control and just being adorable. So when we had built our own hoophouse here, I was secretly praying that the frogs and toads would move in here, too. Well, the other day when I was watering the greenhouse, I saw something jump out of the corner of my eye, and it was a baby toad! I was enthralled with joy to know this little garden helper found a sanctuary in the space we had built. I then saw another, much larger, Western toad, who had made himself right at home inside of a nursery pot amongst a tray of basil. Toads are incredible assets to a garden, as they can eat up to 10,000 bugs in one season. They are strictly carnivorous, so you won’t have to worry about them munching your plants. Because their skin is extremely permeable and sensitive to their environment, toads in the garden are an indication that it is an organic, safe, and balanced environment. One way to attract toads is to create a “toad abode” which is simply just an overturned clay pot dug into the soil in a shaded and damp area, to provide a cool and safe place for them to hide from the heat of the day. The other day I had broken a claypot in the exact shape needed for such a dwelling, so I think I’ll go ahead and make a little home for our resident toad in the hoophouse. Stay tuned for updates on that! I could write a whole article on frogs and toads, maybe I will in the future, but I’m looking forward to hosting these friends for years to come.
Thank you for being here, plant guardian.
Out of all the things that I grow and harvest in my garden, nothing brings as much joy and wonderment as sifting out fresh compost. The smell alone can transport me to an old growth forest floor, rich in microbiota and organic matter. I love seeing the abundance of microfauna that inhabit the material, earthworms and isopods, centipedes and spiders. It never ceases to fascinate me what kind of life can spring from the death and decay of garden scraps. When I sift out the larger chunks of woody material, that goes straight into our chicken run. Bringing the girls a fresh pile of mulch with an abundance of worms mixed in is a recipe for endless entertainment for both me and them. I love watching them scratch away at the pile, spreading the mulch around while pecking at the delicacy that is the earthworm. It’s truly is a win-win situation for everyone involved.
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Another item I completed this week was a little wildflower meadow experiment. In the fall I had seeded a small patch with a native wildflower mix, hoping it would bloom beautifully in the spring. Well, between the lack of moisture over the winter, the birds pecking at the seeds, and the insane weed pressure, my dream of a wildflower patch morphed into a mainly a sea of weeds with a few flowers mixed in here and there. So this week I went through and pulled all the weeds, spread an inch of two of compost over the whole area, and planted a bunch of flowers I had grown from seed, including calendula, penstemmon, hollyhocks, poppies, foxgloves, alyssums, baby’s breath, rose campion, and in the gaps I spread more wildflower seed. I then placed a few sprinklers on the existing irrigation to keep the area moist. I fenced it off to keep out dogs and chickens. I’m hopeful this space will grow out into a productive little patch to support the pollinators and evolve over time. If it goes well, I’d like to expand it into the area behind. More updates soon… and may the seeds you have planted grow and flourish. ~Emma
