Tag Archives: harvest

Surprised by an eggplant.

After a week or so of forgetting that I even had one precious eggplant plant growing in the boxes, this beautiful long fruit caught my eye yesterday, trying to hide behind a zucchini leaf. I planted a six pack of seeds for it and only one came up — now I can’t find the seed packet to tell you what variety it is, but I like it best of the three kinds I’ve tried in the last few years. Maybe next year I will try again.

The tomatoes: Brad’s Atomic Grape, my current favorite, since I don’t have any Sungolds to take the Sweetness Prize this year. And a little plum from my tree. Most of the plums I don’t get until they fall off, and as of this last week of August there are still unripe fruits on the trees! I’m trying to check for ripe ones every day. Yesterday I did enjoy a sweet and juicy one, and it was that stand-over-the-sink dripping kind of event that feels like summer.

More figs and flowers.

It is a joy to have sunny days in which to work in the garden that is heading into its quieter winter months. This is the season for harvesting and cleaning up, often at the same time.

I don’t know if there is any good solution to the overcrowding of the Fig Tree Corner of my garden. There are no plants that I am willing to remove, so I guess I’ll have to just try cutting them back a little harder this winter.

Only the pomegranate bush is a little prickly, when I try to push in next to it to reach a fig. The salvia on the left I just push aside, when I stoop down to enter under the tree’s canopy and then stand up again as straight as I can to reach the fruit up high in the center… or not reach it, which is often the case. The hopbushes (dodonaea) between the tree and the fence don’t actually have a lot of width to trim back. There is the olive in a pot, lavenders, yarrow, and lithodora almost completely hidden under the tree for most of the year.

Birds have been eating many of the figs this summer. They take a big hunk out of one the moment it is beginning to be ripe, and then the wasps come along and gorge on the sweet flesh for a few days, before it is left abandoned in shreds, still hanging.

I was introduced by a mutual friend to a fellow gardener who lives on three acres not too far from me. Rosemary had more figs than she could use this year, so I went to her house and we picked side by side for a half hour; I brought home slightly more fruit than she kept to share with friends that very morning. Her figs were a more standard variety than my dwarf Black Jack type, maybe a Mission or Brown Turkey. They were awfully sweet and tasty, with more concentrated figgyness than mine typically have. I dehydrated most of them.

Yesterday I stood on the edges of my planter boxes to harvest the Painted Lady runner beans and cut down the thick vines that have hardened to sticks. It’s tricky to pull the long stems back over the fence from behind my neighbor’s woodpile, where I know he won’t be making use of the attached bean pods.

While I was standing up there, I got a fresh view down under the zinnias, and saw that I had three beets ready to pick. I didn’t even remember that any were growing there, next to the eggplant where the pumpkin vine had been encroaching. But when I harvested the  pumpkins, the beets were exposed. Also an eggplant that had been partly eaten… but when I cut off that part, half of it was intact and lovely.

Four little pumpkins got ripe, and there is one more that might possibly. These are the ones I grew from seed collected from a decorative pumpkin last year, because it turned out to be the sweetest of all I  had roasted. I’ll let you know if these prove anything like that tasty.

I’ve been trying to get calendulas to thrive in my garden again, the way they seemed so effortlessly to do in ages past. I think back then they received more water and sunshine; this year they are finally, happily blooming in the planter boxes, after taller (shading) plants have been removed, and I got the watering schedule corrected: those boxes were getting less than half the amount of drip irrigation they needed.

Most of my garden is pretty dry, with minimal irrigation, so anytime I have a plant that needs more than that I put it in the boxes. Right now most of the space is given to zinnias, the last sturdy stars of summer.

Apples sweeten in the dark.

THE MOMENT

A neighbourhood.
At dusk.

Things are getting ready
to happen
out of sight.

Stars and moths.
And rinds slanting around fruit.

But not yet.

One tree is black.
One window is yellow as butter.

A woman leans down to catch a child
who has run into her arms
this moment.

Stars rise.
Moths flutter.
Apples sweeten in the dark.

-Eavan Boland

By Lois Dodd

Hive your honey, little hummer.

HARVEST HOME

The maples flare among the spruces
The bursting foxglove spills its juices
The gentian lift their sapphire fringes
On roadways rich with golden tinges

The waddling woodchucks fill their hampers
The deer mouse runs, the chipmunk scampers
The squirrels scurry, never stopping
For all they hear is apples dropping

And walnuts plumping fast and faster
The bee weighs down the purple aster
Yes, hive your honey, little hummer
The woods are waving: farewell summer!

– Arthur Guiterman