Post Haste



Six a.m., morning after my opening, I headed upstate for the planting of the final rows of cloves that missed their planting date due to a freak October snow storm. Traveling up the Taconic, most leaves fallen, except the russet and burgundy of oaks, there were road crews, and piles of woodchips, and snowy hummocks.

On site, I made my way around the house. The first thing to catch my eye was a deer hoof print next to a small hole.


Walking the rows I spotted more holes, although no more hoof prints. I found the garlic cloves sitting beside the holes, unscathed. I wondered whether the animal responsible for digging with uncanny accuracy knew that this was garlic but thought it worth trying for anyway. I wondered how the animals could even know that something was there to be inspected. And if they can know that much, can't they know that it is stinky garlic -something they don't like and shouldn't waste the effort digging up just to toss aside?


Yet, there was a part of me pleased that they had done so because it satisfied an urge I always have to dig up what I have already planted to see what's happening. Maybe other animals have the same urge? Check out the root growth on that clove -a purple stripe variety, cultivar "Chesnok Red." The leaf sprout is about one half inch long, but the roots have grown down more than double the length of the clove in three weeks. It has been replanted.

Thanks to Daylight Savings Time, and Congress, I hadn't adjusted to the new darkness at 5:30 pm. I went in for dinner, only to come out again around 9 pm to plant the remaining four rows by moonlight, cloves' dim glow against the black soil.

Before heading out the next morning I laid some straw down trench-side. Upstate garlic planting is now complete, although planning for next October is not. I've decided not to lay down the straw mulch over the rows, although I may go up around solstice time to lay some down if there's no snow already doing the job for me. Here's to hoping the animals do not remain curious and to dreams of future implements.


Soil Matters



I recently finished James Nardi's Life in the Soil, a gift from a year or so ago*  I found it easy to read, but that may just be because I really need to know more since I began working with less than ideal soil for my garlic trials. I was also nudged into finishing this book by my recent experiments with compost down at the beach farm. I've been digging holes around the plot so to dump a week's worth of coffee grinds, egg shells, vegetable scraps, etc. Things had grown 50% larger near the compost holes. Meanwhile I had spread bagged compost all over the plot and I can't say I saw any difference in the growth over last year. Life in the soil. It matters.

Nardi's book goes over the basics, working his way through soil chemistry, microscopic biota, then way up to large mammals and their relationship with the soil. There are so much bacteria in the soil that slightly larger organisms actually produce antibiotics to tame soil bacteria populations. If you ever wondered what those bugs were underneath your compost or leaf litter, you'll find them in this book. He even rates many of the organisms (fungi, bacteria, insects, etc.) value to the soil and to your gardening.

Soil science can be dry stuff, yet I was able to finish this book in about 10 days of subway commuting from middle Brooklyn to Columbus Circle (I am not a quick reader). Nothing used to make my head spin more than anions and cations, but I think I have the hang of it now, which is great, because I am knee deep in hydrogen ions. Anions (an-eye-ahnz) are negatively-charged particles and cations (cat-eye-ahnz) are positively-charged particles.

The particles that make up clay and humus soils happen to have many negatively-charged ions. In fact, humus has the greatest number of negatively-charged ions thanks to the many nooks and crannies of its irregularly shaped particles. These negative charges attract positive ions, cations, like:

Potassium    Iron   Copper
Zinc    Calcium   Magnesium
Manganese   Nickel

In the water held between soil particles, you'll find negatively-charged ions in solution, the anions, like:

Nitrogen   Phosphorus   Sulfur
Boron   Molybdenum   Chlorine

If your soil is nutrient poor, it may not have enough cations to bind to all those negatively charged soil particles. In their absence, positively charged hydrogen ions take their place. Soil bound with too many hydrogen ions is acid soil, which is less favorable to most of our food and garden plants. When we lime our soil, we are adding minerals like calcium and magnesium which are positively charged cations intended to displace the hydrogen ions.

There will be a test next week.


*Do I have to mention that I am not professionally reviewing this book, nor have I received a free book, nor am I paid to say such things about this book? I guess I do.



Iris



A bunch of November irises can hardly conceal the dirty pans of busy days.

Ever notice outdoors the sparkling flecks of flower petals?

Or wrap your eyes around the folded bloom?




Nose To The Oil



I know some of you won't be able to make it to my opening this Sunday because you will be too tired after running the marathon. For you, I present a few snippets of paintings, nose to the oil. For those who can make it, there'll be beer, red and white wine and snacks to revive your tired runner's body. Sorry, no shiny marathon blankets. For directions: noglobebrooklyn.









Painting Prospect



This coming Sunday, both Daylight Savings Time and the NYC Marathon (boy, I can plan 'em), I will be showing a small group of paintings that I have been working on this year. Most contain representations of Prospect Park, in full green. And people, I let the folks in -sort of. This concise exhibit is preface to a much larger university museum show in Iowa in 2012, but hey, that's in Iowa, where spaces are as large as the landscape around them.

An exhibition is a committment to finish. But also a letting go of the endless finishing of things. I invite you to participate, in its humble gallery -an artist studio/exhibition space in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. If you know me by blog, introduce yourself. There'll be cheap wine and slightly better cheese to take the edge off. 


No Globe Exhibitions Presents

seven paintings

New Work by Frank Meuschke
November 6 through December 3, 2011

Opening Reception Sunday, November 6th, 4-7pm

No Globe Exhibition Space
488 Morgan Avenue
3rd Floor
Greenpoint, Brooklyn
Entrance and elevator on Division Place


Share your extra hour with us.


Rose At Dawn




I woke at first hint of light. It was cold. I got myself together to plant 500 cloves before I needed to leave for the four-hour drive to work.

I had cracked 50 heads and sorted 450 cloves of 'Silver Rose' garlic the night before -all to be planted in these three beds. 'Silver Rose' is a silverskin softneck -very long storing. There are those who make much of the difference in flavor amongst the varieties and cultivars of garlic, but, to me, the major difference amongst varieties is long, mid, or short-term storage. This alone is reason enough to plant the different types. After that, we can discuss hot or sweet, robust or mild, easy or hard to peel.

The finished rows. The top left was left unplanted, beds unmade.

Not bad, eh? The work was done, I left by 9. Now, when to get back to finish the job?



The Curious Dibbler


Back ten days. Garlic planting. Sunday, clouds still hanging onto the mountains. Rise as if it was a Sunday, bit later, then get started by 9 am. Lots to do, and who knew whether I could get it all done in one day?


Signs were attached to their posts first, then planted. Do not mess up the organization.

The sun poked through the clouds as I experimented with my hastily made dibber.

Four cut lengths of broom handle, then pointed. The addition to the right measures from the last dibbing.

Heads were cracked at night, then sorted, weighed, counted, boxed and labeled. Remaining heads are to be planted at the beach farm, remaining cloves to be eaten. These are a turban variety called Tuscan.

After dibbing, cloves are wedged between index and middle fingers, root side down.

Then pushed down into the 5-inch deep hole.

Care is taken to keep the pointy top up while pushing the clove in. Since the clove is curved, it naturally wants to slip onto its side on its way to the bottom of the hole. Make sure this doesn't happen.

Labeled and planted, the majority of the rows are ready for bone and blood meal, raking over the planting holes, and a watering in. I will mulch the beds later. By sundown, I had all but 18 rows completed. I decided I would wake early to plant four of those rows (500 cloves) before my departure at 9 am.






Beach Farm Rest



I was not a fan of this rare, early snow. But what grew out of it was an awareness that I needed to take a break, have a domestic weekend. I haven't cooked at home more than a handful of days since August, certainly not two in a row. I haven't seen much of friends, either, and the beach farm has been all but neglected. I did go to the studio for a couple of hours yesterday to do the little things that needed to be done, but then came home to make some pappardelle, pancetta, and Cipolle di Tropea (minus the Tropea) along with a sauce of garden tomatoes. Fresh, but frozen, green beans from the garden with healthy dose of unplanted rocambole garlic on the side.

Today we went to the beach farm, where it was a surprise to find it not as cold as expected. It was as if the northwesterly winds were picking up warmth and moisture from the bay on its way to us. The brassicas held up, naturally, to the cold and snow, as did the snap peas. Things looked only a bit more bedraggled than my last visit, two weeks ago, but this time the life of the garden produced positive feelings unlike that depressing sense of a season's end. Must've been the snow, a cold and sticking reminder of the brevity of life.

So why not slow roast a leg of lamb? Simmer some peppers and carrots and eggplants alongside. Mashed potatoes and roasted rocambole garlic too. I even have desert.

The cauliflower is heading up. Still, I do not think there is enough sun energy to maintain productivity at this time of year. These will be harvested sometime in the next three weeks.

Same goes for the other brassica. I've harvested small to medium heads from these plants, planted in late August from large starts. Too late? Sun too low? Or just poor cultivation practices?

 Side shoots. These too will be pulled in favor of garlic in the next three weeks.

 Last tomato hanging on to the vine. Tomatoes are not appetizing at this time of year.



Marriage of brassica and solanum. These tomato plants have been sprouting in the cauliflower bed for a couple of months now. Must be from last year's tomato patch.

 Snap peas tall and productive. They are not as sweet as spring, and their flavor a little more dilute. I think its the low-light, again. Planted in March it is cool, but the sun is burning strong.

 Basil headed for seeds. We'll dry these and collect seed.

The haul, not impressive, but still a fact. Five small but fat carrots, several small eggplants and poblano peppers, a handful of snap peas, and herbs. Long live the beach farm.


Welcome Sun







 
Fallen limbs.



The hair cut hydrangea and our block's most red tree.













In the midst of the storm I went out to grab the iris. I guess we have two months extra winter this year. At least yesterdays freak weather has me feeling that way.




Snow Blow



Betsy has Marie's camera, worried that I was going to forget it for our trip to garlic land. So, I had to use our lousy camera for some shots of what to me is pretty miserable. The effect of the lousy camera is spot on - looks like miserable. I usually have flowers well into December, although some years only making it to Thanksgiving. To see so many irises succumb to snow is sad -how often does an iris see snow?

New Dawn has seen snow, or at least it's hips have. This weather not only ruined my plans to finish up garlic planting, but has also ruined so many asters, chrysanthemums, gaura, even cosmos and phlox still blooming. I'm all for the first snow, but this is a low blow.



Well Whadya Know



Let me be the first to say that snow flakes of the wet and fat kind have fallen. Never in my NYC area life have I seen snow before Halloween. Frost, yes, but never snow. I can recall some light snow flakes in the first weeks of November. I have to cancel my garlic planting trip not so much because of the snow, but because of the driving conditions expected tonight in the Hudson Valley. It will have to wait two weeks. 

My exhibition is next weekend and I may as well hit the studio and get the hell out of this unheated apartment! I know it's cold when the cats go under the cover on the couch instead of splay out on top. Two bumps on the ol' log.


Lord of the Land



I've received a couple of text messages concerned about the weather this coming weekend. Snow they say, freezing temperatures too. No matter say I, the garlic is fine and the weather on Sunday should be okay for planting. Yet, this morning, while preparing for work, I hear my landlord instructing one of his workers to cut back all the flowers. Wa?!? I race outside to see what is going on.

Yes, the asters and mums and sunflowers and gaura and cosmos have all leaned forward from the heavy rain, but also to beg for as much sun as possible. They extend out past the old iron fence at most 10 inches in spots. There is ample walkway for one, and what sour soul could demand that flowers be cut away so not one brushes the legs? 

Offended party now on the scene I want to know why he needs the flowers cut back to the fence line. Because of the snow, he says. So I can get the snow blower through, he says. THE SNOW BLOWER!?! It's only October I explain. I always cut back the plants after the first real freeze, which year in and out has tended to be anywhere from November to December. 

Fine, I say. But don't have your guy do it, I'll do it, like I always do long before it snows. I wrap the corner and see that his guy already did the side yard, hacking back the climbing hydrangea to the fence, trimming its graceful trusses to a jar head. Same for the cosmos, the chrysanthemums, and when he tells his guy to pull out my sunflowers I protested. Of course I want those, I planted them!

Snow. Yeah, right. 


The Human Plow



In good farm fashion I rose early for the day's work. I took the truck to the compost facility for my last load, stopped only by this freight train on my return. 

This time I shoveled the compost right into the waiting tractor's shovel, which was then dumped where it was needed, saving me a lot of back ache, but tearing up the sod pretty well.

Enormous amounts of rain had fallen in the region since mid August. Puddles formed in the tire tracks.

Which Is why we trenched the lower, wetter part of the plot in order to raise the height of the beds at this end. Water collected in the trench, even as we pumped it out. Fortunately our beds are well above the water line.

You can see here what a mess the tractor made of the lawn.

But the water is an indicator of other possible problems which we hope do not bear out. Namely, high soil acidity due to constantly saturated soil. In anticipation of this I spread 40 pounds of lime onto the site pre-compost. Forty pounds may not be enough to elevate our pH to appropriate levels, but will have to do for now.

Soil limed, compost spread, now I am set to make the beds.

 But not before I jump on the ol' wheel horse one last time to till it all in.

Each bed is roughly twenty inches wide, set to accommodate two rows of garlic planted eight inches apart. Despite the wet soil, I cross-contoured the rows so that they hold water and soil in place.

I had hoped to have the soil test results before this day, but ESAC did not come through until two days later. As it turns out, our soil has a very low pH of 5. This has all kinds of implications, the most important being how acidity affects soil bound minerals like iron, aluminum, and magnesium. I've all kinds of books on soil sitting on my shelf, unread, until now never needing to fully understand the chemistry of soil. Soil particles are charged positively or negatively. Compost is useful because it binds certain metals. Lime raises the pH, but not all limes are created equal. Aluminum is abundant and toxic to plants, but is locked up at neutral pH. Zinc is a trace mineral necessary for growth, but too much is a bad thing. Cadmium is related to zinc on the periodic table, is a byproduct of smelting, is found in phospate fertilizers. 

The likelihood of finding perfect soil is slim, and I will do the best that I can with what has been given. I've added three inches of compost to the top soil, added lime with more to come. Our lead was only twice background and way lower than even the most stringent residential standards. Mercury was at background levels. Arsenic was extremely low. Our Cadmium levels were twice what my bagged Farfard compost tested at three years ago, but little information exists on standards for soil cadmium. Chromium was lower than the bagged compost. Copper was low and zinc appears high (62) until you compare it to Canadian agricultural standards (200ppm). 

Here's a head ringer: Commercial fertilizers may be responsible for a large portion of the heavy metals in your yard or agricultural field. Whether it is from bagged and dried sewage sludge like Milorganite, straight up bagged synthetic N-P-K, or micro-nutrient fertilizers, you may be adding cadmium, lead, zinc, copper, chromium, arsenic, and what else to your yard or field every year. Even liming can have industrial waste-product origins. Did you know that burnt tires are a source of zinc for micro-nutrient fertilizers? Check out this lengthy EPA report. I am all for reporting on bag or box what extra components are built into our fertilizers. I use "organic" fertilizers, but even those are not excluded from the problem. Many mineral fertilizers are the by-products of industrial or mining processes. And many toxic metals are mined along with those nutritive minerals. Oy.



Weekend Farmer




I arrived Friday around noon, making seriously good driving time for a Friday in October. Waste no time now, there's work to be done.

The first thing I noticed was a bale of straw that had sprouted. S'pose it's good to wait two weeks, given a little rain, before spreading your straw. Happens to be the five dollar bale, which means you get what you pay for and I won't be using these cheaper bales. I once used uncomposted horse manure for a soil amendment and I paid for it with a year of weeding out oats.

The landowner, Andrew, lent me his pickup truck so I could pick up a few loads of compost from the town compost facility. Nice guys, low price. But again, I got what I paid for -this compost is made mostly from leaves and pine needles. The man at the booth sold me on the unscreened -he said it was better composted. But, after getting it home, I realized that it was full of pine cones that then needed to be removed or they will interfere with bulb development. In the end it is hard to argue with 8 yards of compost for 64 dollars, but next time I will take the screened.

 The dumping, one cubic yard at a time.

Two yards of compost in the back of a pickup is a little daunting at first. But I got my rhythm down, and the whole bed was empty in about a half hour. I tried to shovel some of it to where it was needed, but that wasn't possible everywhere. 

A four cubic yard pile that could have been eight. I lost an hour trying to find a place called tractor supply in search of lime. The last load, then, needed to wait until first thing Saturday morning.

The sun finally set low enough to stretch out beneath the clouds that hung on to the Catskills all weekend.

In the neighbor's field, raking shadows, and an invitation.

To the deer. We'll soon find out how much interest, or hunger, will drive them to taste garlic. They are abundant here, very, and can be seen day and night.

Earlier in the day a tractor arrived, sitting idle until a quick operator's lesson at dusk. It's a party only after the heavy equipment shows up. Off I was into the early night throwing levers and moving compost by the beams of a John Deere.



The Road To Garlic




...is paved with gold.

I just got back from 3 intensive days of soil cultivation and garlic seed planting. Posting about that soon. I've heard some commentators say that the fall colors should be spectacular this year because of all the rain, but my eyes have always noted otherwise. Rain makes plain. My trip upstate, I think, bore this out. Generally duller coloring, and heavy on the yellows. Not much of that molten orange-red maple I love to see. But that's okay, I was busy, which has me just as pleased.


Beach Bug



I haven't had too many insects at the beach farm, but autumn is the time when most are out and about.

Including the pesky cabbage worms devouring the cauliflower and broccoli leaves.

 
And crickets on a nearby shrub.

 
And the grasshoppers making mincemeat of my chard (although seen here on the eggplant).

 
But then there are the monarchs stopping in much as the migratory birds do.

And the swallowtail making the most of what little parsely and carrot tops remain.


beachfarmoct16




The week's haul. Smallish broccoli, several large eggplant, small poblanos, a black russian tomato, and several stunted but FAT carrots. The beach farm was a little sad this visit. Must be the season of decline, the weedy abundance in every other plot, the dead tomatoes, and the waiting. With the cool air blowing now from the northwest, instead of from the ocean as it does all summer, it is upon me to clear the plot -just empty it of everything. Garlic time is in November, and with it goes all else dead or alive.



I placed the dead and dried cilantro in the area I would like them to resprout next year.

The snap peas look good, but it's just not the same as spring. Why?

Most of the seeds rotted due to Irene and other rains, so only a few on the trellis. I never did remember to plant more, although there was time -I just didn't make it a priority. Peas in spring.

Still, lovely flowers.



You may not be able to see how outsized one of the cauliflower plants is compared to the others.

In an effort to make good use of the compost we are producing at home, I decided to start bringing our home scraps to the beach farm. The pit is under the chard leaves to the left. Proximity to the composting heap has made this cauliflower twice the size of all the others despite constant munching by cabbage worms.

I've noticed something about compost this year, something I suppose I always knew but chose to disregard for the sake of convenience. Bagged compost is essentially dead compost. Yes, it's rich-looking, dark, and earthy. But the sogginess and suffocation seems to kill off most of the biological activity. It is easy to think that it is the compost that betters your plant growth -but it isn't. The composted matter is simply the medium of explosive biological activity that plants really do respond to. In other words, your compost needs to be alive to really spur amazing growth. Yes, "dead" compost is still okay and useful in poor soil, but "alive" compost is where it's at. Now to figure out how to have all my soil seriously biologically active.

I've ranted about the NYT article on community garden vegetable theft, so all I will say is -hope you enjoyed it.

These guys are wreaking havoc on my tender chard -the same chard from last spring. Hope to get a frost sometime soon to put them to bed while the chard hangs on long enough to produce some tender leaves.






Farmers' Market Relativism


I went to the Union Square Greenmarket last wednesday, the day that Keith Stewart opens his vegetable stand. Why Keith Stewart? Because of the nature of the press and maybe the quality of his garlic, his is the one most often reviewed as the go-to garlic, much like Tim Stark's heirloom tomatoes next door. Entering his stand I expected to see a variety of garlic available, but there was only one -a rocambole. The sign on the basket said 'large rocambole -$1.75 each." I would buy just one to taste how different, how much better, it was than the others. Buying only one -that was my mistake.

About a month ago I placed an order for 3 lbs of rocambole and porcelain garlic from a Pennsylvania grower. The price was table, but I was expecting seed. The website processed my order and I sent the check, but three weeks later I received my check back with a note: "order in July next time." Oh. Normally I would, but your site processed my order and never mentioned that you were sold out. I will not go back to them, but I am also out 3 lbs of seed garlic with rows at the ready.

Stewart's rocambole was starting to look more like seed and less like a taste test. Except Stewart's stand is only there once a week, and I knew waiting a week would be risky. He had plenty large rocambole last week at a price that was more than competitive with seed farmers' prices. A typical seed pound costs $19, on average, and then there is the shipping cost -usually $10.95 for 1-4 lbs. For twenty bucks, I could get eleven of Stewart's large heads with fifty cents change to jangle my jaunt. That same eleven would cost me $38 dollars (2lbs) from a seed farmer, plus shipping, without knowing at all how large they would be.

So I impatiently waited till this windy, rain-soaking day to head over to Union Square. I was tempted to go first thing in the morning, but studio work took priority, and I arrived around 1 pm. I bee-lined for Stewart's stand, half fearing that he would not be there due to the weather. This week's basket sign proclaimed "Colossal Rocambole -$2 each." Argh, what else comes in colossal? Shrimp.

Large on the left and colossal on the right

Now two dollars each and decidedly smaller than last week, I learn the ropes of produce marketing. The passing of one week means smaller, more expensive produce. I buy ten, digging deep to grab the largest of the rocamboles. When I make it to the young lady at the scale, I ask her what cultivar this rocambole might be. She says she doesn't know, beyond rocambole, so I offer German Red or Spanish Roja, voice upturning suggestively. She then says it is Italian. At which prompt I offer Italian Purple (incidentally, two of the missing 3lbs). She then blurts "purple, they are purple!" I thank her, walking away somewhat convinced that these rocambole's are Italian Purple.

Genetic testing has laid bare the DNA of many of the common culitvars and guess what -most are exactly alike. In other words, rocambole 'German Red' is 'Spanish Roja' is 'Italian Purple'. Variation in physical traits amongst distinct varieties are explained as environmentally influenced, not indications of genetic distinction. It is also likely that many of the same garlic cultivars have been continually renamed by different growers in different regions. In fact, the garlic I grew last season has been renamed by yours truly because the seed I bought was sold to me un-named. After determining it to be a Porcelain variety, based on the size and number of cloves, I needed a cultivar. Now it's 'Breezy Point.'

I went to all the stands to check on their garlic. Nothing was competing with Stewart's rocambole, but I asked one farmer what his large, but open-cloved variety was. He commanded "German stiffneck." But I belabored, what variety -porcelain, rocambole? He asserted that he knew nothing of those names -just German stiffneck. I was left to wonder why the varieties and or cultivars are not so important amongst many farmers. Is garlic just garlic to most consumers, so it must be to farmers?

I left his stand while he looked on disappointedly that I did not buy after wasting his time. I was off to buy cameo apples -large, sweet-tart and almost fifty percent cheaper than Honeycrisps. Apples are the one fruit that I will only buy in-season, usually direct from growers. I cannot stand the waxy finish on long haul apples and I hate stickers. Also on sale are two kinds of pears for eighty cents a pound. I bought two (last week I bought too many).

I then stopped to buy some elongated purple shallots a farmer had labeled Tropea Shallots. They are not shallots at all, but red onions, Allium cepa, Cipolle di Tropea, Red Long, Red Torpedo, etc. etc. The Calabrian Cipolle di Tropea is D.O.P., and given their climate, I am sure those taste far better than what I will grow here. But that won't stop me from trying.



Morning Flowers





This is one place my mind has been lately. Actually, just passed that little plume of smoke rising above the fog -to the upper left. Having become an Eckerton Hill type garlic farmer over the last month has absorbed a lot of my time and attention. And then there are the three shows. I'll post an announcement for the Brooklyn exhibit as soon as the date and time are finalized. I made it to the beach farm yesterday to check on things before work -a post about that soon. In the meantime, I check on the flowers on my way out, happy that I planned well enough that they take care of themselves and are supposed to look somewhat messy. I read that we shouldn't serve two masters. How 'bout three?

I've barely been able to appreciate the Eupatorium this year. Where does the time go?

And the monkshood, Aconitum? This is all that remains of what was a lush stand earlier this year. I think it was killed by cats. How, you ask? I always find a cat laying at night in the spot in which it used to grow. Compaction, warming the soil, who knows. I also think, now, that people had sex against our building which trampled and killed the bleeding hearts and ferns that were doing exceptionally well until then. What led me to this conclusion? The napkins.

The cosmos ask for nothing, but an occasional deadheading.

We have lots of irises coming up now -much, much earlier than last year.


Stick your nose in there, it's goooood.

Aster time in full swing. These in the side yard amongst the smart weed.

But seeds drifting to the center tree pit has created the real show. All new this year, these asters filled in like weeds, but only this center tree pit. Must be something to do with the dynamics of wind, seed dispersal, and the stoop.

Sedum's second bloom. With bees.

New Dawn has had an exceptionally long and floriferous second bloom. Must've been all that rain in August and September.