Copyright 1999 Douglas E. Welch
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The summer solstice has come and gone.
I try to celebrate the longest day of the year a little each year
but it
also brings a bit of sadness, too. The year wanes from this point
with each
day growing a little shorter. It portends the long dark nights
of winter
that can seem dismal even here in Southern California. Even without
the ice
and snow of my childhood winters in Ohio the early evening darkness
can
still weigh on the senses. I keep a constant vigil for the winter
solstice
that marks our return to lengthening days and means spring isn?t
too far
off.
Unlike more temperate areas of the world, the summer in Southern
California
is a time for rest. In the garden I engage myself in more leisurely
pursuits
and basic maintenance. Nothing wants to be planted and the lettuce
bolts
into seed almost while I watch. I water, deadhead the roses and
do light
pruning to keep the paths accessible. If I slip on the trimming
the
wisteria and other vines threaten to take over and create a "secret
garden"
without any action on my part. I sharpen tools and mulch beds
much like
other gardeners do in the winter.
Like winter, I spend my summer days dreaming of what I might add
when the
big planting season returns in the fall. Once the temperatures
begin to drop
out of the 90?s, wildflower seed can be broadcast and bulbs can
be nestled
in so they can burst forth with the heavy rains of late winter
and early
spring. In my inherited garden I am surprised every year when
the existing
daffodils, snow bells and amaryllis jump out of the ground. I
have been
trying to mark various drifts when they are in flower so I can
move them to
more opportune areas or transplant those the have popped up in
the middle of
a path.
This year I have concentrated on the rather sickly gladiola which
are spread
throughout the garden. Those that do come up are either too small
or too
large so that they tip over from the weight of the flower stalk.
My sister,
Denise, quickly pointed out the problem when I told here about
this. Bulbs
are usually planted rather deep, compared to other plants. These
gladiolas
have either been planted to shallow or they have worked their
way to the
surface over time. I should have seen this on my own but sometimes
we need a
set of fresh eyes to clear the haze. I am marking each one now
so that I can
move them into one central bed once the foliage fades. I will
plant them a
bit deeper and see if more attention yields a better crop next
year.
Our front garden is a collection of geometrically planted beds
of azaleas,
juniper and rhaphiolepsis. This is about the closest thing to
a formal
garden on the property. It requires little maintenance over the
season but
the most onerous job is upon me. After the bloom has finished
each year I
need to bring out the hedge trimmer to straighten the edges and
lower the
top. Like my own hair, the growth of the plants is not even and
parts stick
up like the cow lick that my barber is constantly trying to paste
down. The
plants spill out into the path and threaten to remove any sense
of formality
or even order for that matter. Luckily, I have learned over the
years that
it is basically a "one morning job." If I get started before the
heat of the
day hits I can usually finish it off before lunch.
This trimming work can easily cause me to slip into a rather meditative
state. As I work to develop the straight lines and flat tops I
feel like an
artist. I step back, gauge the angle, the height, the "look" and
then lean
in to trim off just a bit more. Hours fly by and the only thing
I notice are
my tired arms and sore hands.
Some gardeners would consider it sacrilege that I trim these broadleaf
shrubs with a conventional set of hedge trimmers. The recommended
method is
to remove growth from the base of the plant with standard pruners,
a branch
at a time. While this is an admirable goal it is totally unworkable
in my
arrangement. Such a pruning would take weeks, if not months to
complete.
Luckily, the trimmer doesn?t seem to ruin the look to any great
degree and
it allows me to finish the job in a few stolen hours while wife
and toddler
son are off visiting Nonna. When they come back they will find
me nursing my
aches on the garden bench sipping a cool drink.
Until next week?
Keep digging...
Douglas
Douglas E. Welch is a freelance writer and comptuer consultant
based in Van Nuys, California.
He can be reached at douglas@welchwrite.com or via his web pages at www.welchwrite.com.