Yesterday we were walking without jackets, enjoying 70° F weather. I took down all of our outside Christmas lights and drug the Christmas trees to the curb for recycling. I worked in the garden, planting tulip bulbs (I can’t remember where I’ve planted things, so spring will be the ultimate surprise!), and clipping back dead plants. I marveled at our camellia bush, full of beautiful pink blossoms. I know it’s hardy, and I wondered if it would survive the cold front supposedly coming through.
I had my doubts. Could the temperature really drop 50° overnight and bring snow?
I awoke this morning to howling wind, freezing temps, and a dusting of snow. It was just enough to make everything appear magical.
One of the things I was most excited about when I moved into this house two years ago was planting a garden. Home-grown tomatoes! Herbs! Okra and zucchini! And other delicious garden delicacies!
The first year passed, and the garden didn’t get planted. There was travel, a family of raccoons nesting in my chimney, and the never ending struggle of pulling weeds on my front bank.
I didn’t want to let another summer go by without the prospect of a garden. So, in December of last year, I had someone help landscape the yard with native shrubs and flowers (which I naïvely thought meant I would not have any more weeds to pull…) and build a raised planter. There weren’t many ideal places to build the planter bed. I wanted the front yard to be flowers and plants, something new blooming all year round, a surprise each day I left my house, a haven for butterflies and bumblebees. The back yard is way too shady, but a paradise for hostras and ferns and moss. And the side yard has a bit of space that is ideal for a garden. So one bed was installed in December and I dreamed of the day I would be able to plant.
And then I moved to Winston-Salem to care for Dad and Mom and when I moved back to Asheville in June, the planting season was over. Or was it? They were still selling seeds at the hardware store. So I planted tomato plants around the perimeter. And rows of kale, radishes, and okra. For days, I watered a bed of dirt. I wondered if anything would grow. I left on a work trip, came back, and there were sprouts. Sprouts!
I patiently fertilized and watered and tended each day. I noticed tender young kale leaves when I watered on Friday. I dreamed of the salad I would have. I went out on Sunday morning to pick the kale. And was met by what appeared to be blades of grass. Something had eaten the kale completely down to the stalk. Every single leaf of kale was gone. All of them. I would not have recognized the plants as kale had I not planted them myself. What could have done this? It could have been our neighborhood bear (but if it was, he or she was mighty careful). It could have been the neighborhood rabbits. Or wild turkeys. Or deer (I haven’t actually seen deer in our neighborhood, but I’m guessing they could be here). Raccoons? Maybe. I was glad that it provided a meal to something. And that they didn’t bother the tomatoes, radishes, or okra. Yet. 🙂