Final Touch

I hadn't been to the beach farm in two months. It was hard to go, out of busyness as much as emotion, but it was time, or rather time was running low, so this past Sunday, blustery, cool, and unfavorable to contemplation as it was, I went.

The buckwheat never got turned under which, in retrospect, appears a good practice given no other fall planting. The tangle of light carbon comes to be an effective mulch, keeping down weeds and shielding the soil from eroding winds. It should be turned under next spring.

In our other, short-lived plot, the unharvested fennel bulbs died back from frost and have since re-animated. I let them be.

Just down the row, under the blackened skeletons of tomato vine, speckled romaine has sprouted. The spring romaine must have successfully self-seeded, something I have yet to see in any lettuce I've sown.

Adjacent to graying, dry fennel stalks and the soggy flesh of decayed eggplant, our parsley is embracing a return to normal temperatures. I pinched some.

From the shed I collected some belongings, a bin, two types of spreaders. I left my wheel dib prototype hanging along with rarely-used garden tools and Wolf's jug of wine.

On this last visit to the beach farm, I was visited by what I think is a young eagle. I missed and will miss the autumn congregation of migratory birds and their electric cacophony. 

Finally, the beach farm was a great place to bbq with friends. I think this post by Marie, of 66sqft, brings it home. We had some great neighbor gardeners -Jimmy, Wolf, Joanna and others. They'll water your garden when you are away, rib you for your weeds, then offer you a cold beer, and they always took heed of my experiments and that is how I earned the nickname: the professor.

Two plots available. I recommend F12.

Beach Farm Bye Bye

By the time you read this we'll have completed our 1250 mile drive, in our twenty two year old van with cat in tow, to Hennepin County, Minnesota. I'll blog from there when I get the chance -there's been a lot of rain there, so I'm expecting August mushrooms. Also, I got a replacement Olympus XZ-2, just days before the price went back to $599 (double what I paid, but then I had to buy it twice!). Today was the first day the camera got out of the house and I am very happy to be able to occasionally disappear into photography during our time in Minnesota. 

It's hard to believe our two plots were all garlic only three to four weeks back. I haven't seen the beach farm since then, when all the garlic was pulled and buckwheat seed planted in the newly empty space. 

Our new plot is kinder to warm weather vegetables than it was cool weather garlic.

I've let the bulbing fennel bolt. Just haven't been around for a proper harvest.

I'm amazed at the size of the Swiss chard stems -like baseball bats, believe me they are bigger than they look here. The leaves are gigantic and we can't harvest them fast enough. The weather has been chard perfect. These were started from fairly old seed, too. Good to know not to throw those out too soon.

Let the cilantro bolt -that is the plan. Took me years to figure out how to cultivate cilantro and the answer is to plant seed, hope for the best, and should it sprout and grow then allow it to self seed and it will hardly ever require replanting.

Some lettuce has bolted and I'm wondering if it will seed itself and true.

I wanted the other plot to rest after years of cultivation, so I planted what amounts to probably too much buckwheat. It's growing like mad now, necessitating a weeding along the edges of the row of vegetables I planted three weeks ago.

On one end, basil.

On the other, Japanese eggplant.

And the middle? Sweet peppers.

Without much tending other than a few applications of organic fertilizer 5-5-5, they seem to be doing okay. Some have begun flowering and fruiting.

 The sea of buckwheat should grow another foot or two.

And threatens to swamp a random tomato plant and the row of vegetables. Buckwheat is a vigorous grower, used not only as a green manure when turned it, but also to keep weeds in check by shading them out. Of course, some eat the seeds and some the flowers. Not me, however, not me.

We have some green tomatoes, although all my neighbors have red. After all, we planted in July, after the garlic was lifted, and hope tomatoes will be ready when we return from Minnesota.

Nothing special this year (general 'plum,' 'beefsteak' and 'cherry') as I bought only from Larry's, although there may be an heirloom or two in the plots that have volunteered from the prior year.

Retiring Field

And so wraps up a season of growing in Amagansett.

A sea of buckwheat doing as it should.

Thick and flower full, rising three feet above the earth.

It's flowers give way to green and white seed pods which turn mahogany as they mature.

No weeds can be seen, or none seriously, under the buckwheat, and that is its purpose.

Yet only ground well tilled or disced and mellowed will allow the buckwheat to take hold.

Toward the end of my day of pulling potatoes and crocus, I stopped to take in the bucolic scene.

 

And the sun then set on the buckwheat, and on my field.

But before I left, the dew point shifted, the air then scented, and the clankery of aluminum batting adrift from athletic fields, as I plucked greens from self-seeded spring peas.

Return of the Beach Farm

We lost a number of tomatoes on the vine because we weren't there to pick them, the weeds are tall and deep green, verticillium has done its damage to the heirloom tomato plants, only one green bean has sprouted, the volunteer butternut squash (where did that come from?) spread to every corner of our little plot. All the result of our benign neglect. But look at the harvest! There were still tomatoes to pick, and a butternut squash, and the peppers -they've really produced!

The pepper plants are tall, bushy, full of flowers and peppers. The sun scald is on the wane.

Bountiful sweets and hots.

The neighboring plot I cleared and planted with buckwheat looking a little weak. Shorter, thinner, paler, and flowering sooner than expected. Also, not one bee in sight. 

The buckwheat flower is said to be highly attractive to bees, so either there's no bees around or these flowers aren't the sh*t. When I visit the garlic farm tomorrow, I'll be on the lookout for bees. Soon both the beach and garlic farm's buckwheat will be cut.

First tomatoes plucked. Black Krim, Black Russian. Both excitingly delicious.

And the green New Mexico chiles were pan roasted, dry, and blended with farmer market tomatillos for mildly medium hot salsa verde.