Tag Archives: fennel

Little shining water.

A favorite eucalyptus tree.

Yesterday my godmother called, suggesting that we go for coffee or a walk. What a nice idea! I knew I needed the walk, and didn’t need the coffee, so she came over, and we ambled along my usual path, but farther than I’ve been going lately. That gave me the oomph to go again this afternoon, on a Sunday of all days, when typically I need a nap more, and rarely get that…

It’s been a week or more since the rains, I can’t keep track, and the creek has quieted down to a silver ribbon. Actually I walk along two different creeks, and cross the bridge where they merge.

The tender fennel ferns are popping out greenly.

Primroses were floating all around.

My friend K. and I took our first ever hike together — unless you count tromping up and down hills in San Francisco, which we used to do at Christmastime. It was a pretty easy walk, just over two miles, in a place I’d never been before. Three gravel pits near a river have been turned into small lakes, and the trail passes by two of them and loops around the third.

pennyroyal

As soon as we set off from the trailhead the distinctive late summer scents of live oak and fennel and redwood filled my consciousness. It was midday, and the warmth of the air brought out their special essences and melded them into that perfume that is one of the best things about the hot season; it makes me feel at home, and quite wealthy.

Rough Cocklebur

We saw large clumps of Rough Cocklebur, a new one to me; poison oak (of course), and — elderberries! I had just told a blogger last week that I never see elderberries unless I go to the mountains. And here were gobs of them. I wasn’t prepared to gather the berries, and it probably is forbidden anyway, as they are growing on public land. I didn’t even “gather” a photo, but you probably know what they look like.

The chicory wildflowers were the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. Usually they are fading or for other reasons not very photogenic when I see them. This is the same plant from which the root is used to make a drink that people use as a coffee substitute. I have developed a love for the drink, hot or cold, that I brew from chicory that has been gathered and roasted by someone else.

chicory

My favorite discovery of the afternoon was Floating Primrose Willow, Ludwigia pepoides which was growing all around the lakes and out onto the water in broad swaths. [update: in my original title I called them “willow flowers” but Linda pointed out that in so doing I gave the impression that they are willows — they aren’t at all, are in a family of aquatic plants sometimes called water-primroses.]

K. and I hope to make a habit of our hikes together; neither of us can seem to make it happen if we are trying to go alone. We loved this outing so much. May God help us to continue!

Floating Primrose Willow

I find the oomph in flowers and prose.

My first sewing teacher used to tell me that she found sewing relaxing. I have never become skilled enough that I ever found that to be true for me. Even when I generally derived great satisfaction from sewing darling doll clothes, my neck would get stiff doing the tiny hand stitches at the end. It would never occur to me to pick up a needle and thread for fun or sustenance, during the days of preparation for a big expedition.

My usual way is to endanger my overall health by snacking and forgoing exercise as I become more anxious about setting off, so I was surprised at myself for taking several walks this week. This morning I even walked the whole two miles of what was formerly my daily routine. I saw a family of quail, and some old favorite plants, but it was too early for the bees.

And now here I am working on yet another blog post, after reading and thinking and perusing this and that… one might think it a pretty inefficient use of my limited time, because I am up against looming deadlines. But, I am finding that these activities are as necessary to my overall well-being as the walking is to my legs and back — sometimes I think they are more so.

Evidently there is something about engaging in creative activity that is calming, and clears the mind. The preparations for a big social event also constitute a creative work, but that one is not my favorite, and requires a lot of extra oomph, plus a type of thinking that is a stretch for me. So I sustain myself with words and flowers. 

My first Love-in-a-Mist flower bloomed today! This was a Big Event, a project that started off with my longstanding admiration for these flowers, and a desire to grow them myself. It took years, and the donation of seeds from two friends, and then a couple more years, before I got them planted in the greenhouse in the spring. I put them in three different places in the garden, and hope that they will self-sow at least a little and keep themselves going from now on.

All the white echinacea are standing up tall and elegant, not losing their gracefulness even when the overeager asparagus fronds drape themselves on them.

When the sunflower that the bee sleepers were using began to fade, they rearranged themselves on others. The three above were seen yesterday morning, but last night and today, no bees at all were bedded down in the open — only this small creature was nestled in a sunflower bud:

I am traveling next week, driving nearly to the bottom of the state, which I’ve never done before. My trip will involve lots of visiting with friends and family, a wedding, and a mountain cabin. I hope to tell you about some of the bloggy details as they emerge, but once I’ve torn myself away from my desktop and my garden, there’s no telling what might happen!

What any kind of pruning can do.

It’s surprising how much glory has bloomed and gone, in my garden and by the creek. Well before the end of July we’ve cut back the purple explosion of germander and forced the bees to move to the echium and salvias, which continue to branch out and lengthen their nectar offerings. The Jerusalem sage and lavender I always think of as long-lasting…. How can they be done? Santa Barbara daisies at least come again and again after each shearing.

By the creek, the Queen Anne’s Lace and fennel will continue for months more, and other insects feed on them. But I never see honeybees there.

Early on when the gyms first closed because of the covid-19 quarantine and more people were walking those creek paths, I saw that many of the fennel plants down there had been mutilated and dishonored. I wished I had clippers with me so I could cut them off neatly to relieve the humiliation.

But three months later, those same plants are most beautiful! For all they cared, the breakage of their stems might have been expert pruning by loving horticulturists. Now those specimens have branched out gracefully to outshine their fellows that shoot straight up. The ladybug above is posing on one.

Last fall I planted a few begonias in pots on the patio, but so far only this older one has opened:

In the vegetable boxes many of the things I planted rather late and experimentally did not even sprout, but currently collards are coming along. And in the greenhouse, moringa! I bought the seeds two years ago at an event I blogged about: here. (I also had a bunch of little amaranth plants from that source growing nicely, but something ate them off at the stem.)

This spring I managed to keep three of the seeds warm and moist long enough for one of them to sprout. If the seeds had not been so unusual, I might not have invested in the project, but who knows… and whether I will ever use it, no one can predict that, either!

I plan to grow my little tree in a pot, and then a bigger pot if I manage to keep it alive long enough for it to outgrow containers. The leaves can be used like spinach, or for tea. It’s supposed to be one of those “superfoods,” which I’ve noticed become fads and then after a while you don’t hear about them anymore. I’m more interested in this species because it’s not a sweet fruit to add to the carb load of a diet.

My fruit trees are looking good. The plums and fig got their solstice pruning to keep the size down. For the fig, that mostly meant taking a foot or two off the top. I’m keeping them at a size where I can pick the fruit without a ladder, and take care of the trees on my own. The fig tends to grow horizontally, which makes it easy for me; it’s a dwarf species also, called Blackjack. But it doesn’t seem particularly dwarfish in its fifth season of bearing! It’s loaded with fruit. Yum.

I have four Elephant Heart plums on my two trees, which this morning I thought I better take pictures of, because in previous years they have not only started out few but mostly disappeared. My lemon tree I have in the last year or so been more diligent than ever to feed regularly, and it has responded by producing a score at least of little lemons that are getting big fast. They will be ripe next winter.

Must leave you now and go see what else needs pruning!