One Thing I Learned This Year by Diana Sette

What I Learned This Year

By Diana Sette

To say simply what I’ve learned in the garden this year can be done so in three sentences:

1. Explore what is possible.

2. Never stop engaging with and building community, this is the greatest resource.

3. Know your personal limits, respect them, and ask for help when you need it.

When We Started

In many ways I relearn and practice these lessons every year in the garden- sometimes I am left with greater feelings of satisfaction than others, yet always grateful for the garden lessons.

I am constantly overdoing it, ambitious and ever exploring.  This quickly ties in my third lesson- know your limits.  This season I’ve practiced this in taking a new position as I work with Possibilitarian Garden, our community-based garden on E 117th St off of Buckeye Rd.  I see all the work that there is to do to improve the soil, to connect with neighbors, listen to the land, and woo the beneficial pollinators.  Yet I am only one person, and I have a family and a full-time job, and numerous other organizations I play significant roles in- and I have to check myself constantly to make sure I am gardening within my limits.

That doesn’t mean that I am not always remaining open to what is possible, because I am.  Because my vision has only grown clearer of the regenerative community space that a garden can play.  The plants and the people that gather around and amongst them in community is what continues to show and clarify this vision for me.  And just like my baby seedlings, that vibrant vision for community I hold only grows in mind, and this garden has reminded me again this year to continue to nurture it because the pay off is long-term.  Because it is a regenerative cycle.  And because a community garden will only build upon its potential fertility for gardens and community, if I nurture both community and gardens.

Finally, it is the community that makes a community garden, and this is what I am continuing to learn here.  Margaret Wheatly sums up a key lesson that resonated with me this season, “Our communities must support our individual freedom as a means to community health and resiliency.  And individuals must acknowledge their neighbors and make choices based on the desire to be in relationship with them as a means to their own health and resiliency.”

diana sette what I learned

So whatever I planted in my community garden this year, it has been in community and based on the desire to be in relationship with community.  The importance of this is what I learned the most this year.

*If you are interested in getting involved with Possibilitarian Garden, we are having a Harvest Party and Work Day on Sunday, September 27 from 1-6pm, and will be a fun event of planting pollinator friendly plants, sheetmulching, grilling, spoken word, sweating and getting dirty with new friends!

Contact me at Diana_sette@yahoo.com for more info.

 The garden this autumn

A Hike to Holden Arboretum’s Carver’s Pond by Elsa Johnson

A Hike to Holden Arboretum’s Carver’s Pond

Elsa Johnson

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When the Cleveland Museum of Natural History holds its annual symposium there are GREAT  opportunities to go on hikes that visit some of northeast Ohio’s very special places.  The hike to Carver’s Pond is one of these.  I’ve been on this hike several times, and it is always rewarding. The pond is a Holden Arboretum holding, but lies outside the arboretum proper and can be visited only with special permission and a guide (ours was led by Holden’s own Roger Gettig). 

So the first part of our trip involved first getting to the place where the hike began, near an enclosure where Holden is testing the pest or pathogen resistance of various trees and shrubs.  Then one wanders through a large unmown field (full of bee-full goldenrod this time of year) where Holden has planted more trees to observe over time (White Pine, Dawn Redwood). Then you tromp a long way through an oak/beech forest,  overlooking a creek that is in some places a hundred feet below…

And then you are there.

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What makes Carver’s Pond fascinating is that it lies in a submerged valley that itself lies thirty feet above the creek below.  The natural outlet at the west end of the pond has been blocked by a beaver dam, creating a water impoundment of about 5 acres, studded with water lilies and dead trees (in which heron used to nest but no longer do) . There is no one around except some ducks and herons. It is very, very quiet. 

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The way out is faster but steeper: no sloth possible. My butt muscles are tired. It was a good hike. 

A Permaculture Solution for Goji Berries by Tom Gibson

A Permaculture Solution for Goji Berries

Perhaps permaculture’s most memorable adage is “The Problem is the Solution.” Do you have too many slugs?  Maybe the solution is adding ducks which will eat those slugs and turn them into eggs. 

Canadian anemones certainly aren’t as annoying as slugs, but they are extremely aggressive and were crowding out some of my food-producing ground level plants like woodland strawberries and ramps. 

Yet I had mixed emotions about trying to eliminate them. The Canadian anemone’s white flowers attract a variety of pollinators. And their mat of fine surface roots that strangle their plant competitors also provides lush habitat for worms and arthropods. Pull off the “scalp” of living Canadian anemone roots and you’ll find soil that incorporates previously decayed roots, holds moisture and builds a wonderful, crumble-in-the-hand tilth.

Was there a permaculture solution somewhere in that mix? I thought of my goji berry plants, the Asian imports much hyped for their anti-oxidant value, but which, in my garden, had never lived up to their growing potential. Maybe a berry or two in late August, but, instead of the promised September profusion, a quick fade in a location that was sunny, but probably a little too dry.

The goji berry plants have relatively deep roots. Could they possibly thrive in all that rich, moist soil under my Canadian anemones?

Short answer: they have, and how!

goji picture Goji berries growing in a bed of Canadian anemone.

The berries are coming nonstop and provide a great addition to fruit salads.

Companion planting in other mat-like groundcovers would probably produce the same results.  I’ve got another goji berry plant planted in the middle of sweet woodruff, and it’s doing almost as well.

The Peripatetic Gardener Visits a Hospital by Catherine Feldman

The Peripatetic Gardener Visits a Hospital by Catherine Feldman

In San Francisco this month the Peripatetic Gardener sat through three seemingly endless visits to one emergency room. Great gratitude was due to the medical staff who so graciously and effectively attended the Gardener’s elderly parents.

Dear Demeter, though, how different a hospital was from a garden! “Where is the greenery to provide fresh oxygen to the stuffy rooms?” asked the Gardener. She longed for sunshine to help dispel the known and unknown diseases that contaminated the air and surfaces. While it made sense to her that a 92-year-old man would have a severe vitamin D deficiency, it was an eye opener to learn that so do many of the young interns and residents.  Much has been said about the need to improve the food in hospitals; she called now for a discussion of how to make the environment in hospitals more comfortable and healthful for patients, visitors and staff: that is, more like a garden.

hospital room

Science by the People: Lisa Rainsong, Citizen Scientist

Science by the People: the 2015 Conservation Symposium at the

Cleveland Museum of Natural History

Elsa Johnson

Snowy Tree Cricket
Snowy Tree Cricket

What kind of person jumps into her car after work to drive to Erie, Pennsylvania to listen to and record the nighttime songs of crickets and katydids  ….for fun….!

…whose ‘real’ life work is teaching music and making her own songs…

…and who gets invited to give a talk about her unusual and enchanting hobby at a prestigious institution of the natural sciences…. ?

…Meet Dr. Lisa Rainsong, whose name, vocation, and avocation so serendipitously mix.

Rainsong, who is a resident of Cleveland Heights, a Professor of Music Theory at the Cleveland Institute of Music, and a recorder extraordinaire of the songs of crickets and katydids, gave a power-point lecture — punctuated by cricket song – on the results of her cricket recording activity to this year’s symposium audience.

 

Rainsong’s familiarity with recording equipment allowed her to take recording of multitudinous mixed summer insect sounds and then separate out the individual songs of specific cricket species – even the hard for the human ear to hear katydid species. 

Black-legged MK singing mostly visible nice OHills 8-23-013
Black-legged Meadow Katydid

By doing this she has been able to verify for professional scientists the existence of certain crickets and katydids where they were thought not to exist. It seems to be a mostly northward migration, possibly due to climate change, but in the case of one cricket, Rainsong hypothesizes that the specific species had been there all along. 

Rainsong spoke with clarity, affection, and humor about her extra-curricular passion. For this writer her presentation was the highlight of this year’s symposium.

You may link to Rainsong’s blog  Listening in Nature. The Songs of Insects is a wonderful online field guide for identification.

Four-spotted TC singing at Linda's4 8-18-13
Four-spotted Tree Cricket

 

Common True Katydid sings from low perch1 ELC 8-21-13
Common True Katydid

Is it Ripe Yet?……………. by Ann McCulloh

Is It Ripe Yet?

Ann McCulloh

Sensory clues to help decide if it’s time to harvest your produce.



Ann McCulloh

You’ve tended the garden since spring. Improved the soil, planted carefully, weeded, watered, fed, staked, pinched and pruned! Finally it’s time to enjoy the fruits of your labors. How do you know when all that home-grown goodness is at its peak? Ready, but not over-the-hill? In a word: ripe?

Judging ripeness is all about the evidence of the senses. There’s certainly science involved: fruits and vegetables can be measured for sugar and water content, acidity and density. But recognizing ripeness is really a learned skill, a dance of anticipation and experience. Here’s where four of our senses (touch, smell, sight and hearing) come into play, before the ultimate test of taste.

Apple: Look for a background skin color skin more yellow than green. Cut into the heart and look for dark brown seeds and cream-colored flesh.

Canteloupe: Look for a yellow tinted skin, a light fragrance, slight softness at the stem end when pressed, and shake to hear seeds sloshing gently inside.

Corn: The silk turns brown, and the kernels are plump.

Dry Beans: Outer shell looks dry, yellow and leathery. Beans slide out easily with the swipe of a thumb and feel hard to the touch.

Eggplant: Firm and rounded, heavy for its size and skin still shiny

Green Beans: Pods should still be slim and smooth, not bumpy

Tomato: Pick when just fully colored and finish ripening indoors in a paper bag. Don’t chill!

Watermelon: Should be heavy for its size, with skin more dull than shiny and a creamy yellow bottom side. A thumped melon should yield a hollow sound.

Winter Squash: The rind will be too hard to puncture with a fingernail, the skin will be dull not glossy.

Zucchini: The smaller the better! Dull skin = hard seeds and spongy texture.

The best advice will take you only so far. Look, feel, sniff, listen, and observe. Then take a bite. Your taste buds will be your best teacher.


Is It Ripe Yet?

Pears

A sensory investigation

Thump a melon for its sound

Feel the cabbage fill and round

Sniff the peach for its perfume

Rub the grape, dispel its bloom

Heft a gourd and tug it loose

Bite the apple, savor juice…

_Ann McCulloh 2010

cucumbers

The Aging Gardener Laments September

elsa messy garden

The Aging Gardener Laments September

Lord   Lord   What a mess the garden is   There is not

a modicum of order here   (and me …supposed to

set a good example )  I’ve hacked back that

promiscuous bitch ‘Pamina’   all her skirt

foliage I’ve ripped away   (and some of her

children too )   (Murderer!)   I’ve beaten into

submission the overly exuberant ‘Rozanne’

(Back… back! You beast! )  Goldfinch lay waste

the ripe sunflowers   A dozen different insects

are pillaging sedum   agastache   and anything

else that dares remain in bloom    A few beans still

hang from utterly leafless plants   like limp tinsel or

draped dregs from a party that’s gone on too long…

none of us straggling home in good shape

elsa messy 2

New Series: One Thing I Learned This Year by Peggy Spaeth

One Several Important Thing(s) I Learned This Year

The official Ohio state flower is the carnation (a Mediterannean native!) but the official Ohio state wildflower is our native trillium.  This past spring I visited Garden in the Woods and the horticulturist mentioned that white trillium petals turned pink after the flower has been pollinated.   (I didn’t know that!)  Since this is the first year I’ve had trillium in my garden it was the perfect opportunity to observe this beautiful spring ephemeral daily.  These photos track the buds through flowering and setting seed.  Observing the seed case I thought there would be one big seed inside.  I was surprised when it burst open and scattered a whole bunch of shiny brown seeds on the ground. (I didn’t know that!)  I learned it takes up to seven years for trillium rhizomes to produce a flowering plant.  (I didn’t know that!)  If you want to learn more about trillium seed development here is a fascinating article and another about propagation.  Wouldn’t it be great if there was a plant nursery in NE Ohio that propagated our native woodland ephemerals so everyone could enjoy them in their garden?

Trillium, white 2015.05.12 Essex
Trillium, white 2015.05.12 Essex

More photos are here.

 

The Peripatetic Gardener Visits the Cloisters in NYC

A Visit to The Cloisters in New York City 

Meanwhile — Sloth in the cloister would not have been deemed desirable. You could think of a monastery garden as an early form of permaculture. The Cloisters in Manhattan has three cloistered gardens open to the sun and air. Only one is planted with plants that would have grown in such a place in Medieval times. A monastery garden grew its own food, but also grew plants for other purposes, and some of these plants were dangerous – poisons that were medicinally useful, like foxglove (digitalis)… or just plain simply poisonous, like castor bean plant (ricin — for which there is no antidote), and datura (tropane alkaloids). These plants would have been grouped together in their own quadrant of the garden.

Another quadrant held plants used for culinary purposes… thyme and sage to flavor foods , hops (to flavor weak ale, which was commonly consumed instead of water), comfrey (a mineral accumulator, also used medicinally). Another quadrant grew vegetables (not tomatoes, which would come from the new world when it was ‘discovered’), some of which we would not recognize today, like skirret (tastes something like sweet potatoes, but is a bit more trouble to dig and use; (See Tom Gibson’s recent post) and stinging nettle (a pot herb that loses its sting when cooked). Both of these are important permaculture plants today.

Ignorance can be a form of sloth. An ignorant gardener would not have been long tolerated. He or she would have posed a danger to the community. While a natural landscape like a park may benefit from some form of benign sloth, true sloth would never have been tolerated in a cloister garden.