Snow at Last

Weather: Snow, real snow, the kind that comes down and stays a few days. The last time that happened was January 2016. I’m sure the sky basins have better records for when they last had an adequate snow fall to sustain themselves without water filched from reservoirs converted by machines.

Last useful snow: 12/28. Week’s low: 14 degrees F. Week’s high: 54 degrees F in the shade.

What’s still green: Stems on roses; leaves on cliff roses, juniper, arborvitae, and other evergreens, yuccas, red hot pokers, sweet peas; most are covered in snow

What’s gray, gray-green, or blue green: Four-winged saltbush, fernbush, winterfat

What’s red: Stems on sandbar willow and bing cherries, new wood on peaches and apples

What’s yellow: Stems on weeping willows

Animal sightings: Rabbit came out yesterday morning, hopped across the yard and drive, then down the path beside the house to head out toward the prairie. It also came through this morning with a slightly different path.

Weekly update: Last week when I was driving through the village I noted some cottonwoods still had leaves on some lower branches that hung along side trunks. Gravity probably pulled the snow off those branches.

The trees that may have had greater problems with the snow that stuck on all horizontal surfaces are the trees of heaven that still had full canopies of seed pods.

The only shrub in my yard to have a problem is the Apache plume. Tiny branches crisscross one another to create a mesh that supported the snow. In addition, while many of the leaves had died, they hadn’t fallen. So, it’s under full mantle with a protected cave under it.

The plants that have the greatest challenge in my yard are the ones under the back porch drip line. Snow melts off the roof, and drops onto the rose and shrub branches below where it freezes. Fortunately, it’s only the stems directly in the fall line; the rest of the plants are safe from the freezing.

The indomitable sweet pea leaves have stayed green even when the rose the vines climbed was covered with snow, then ice.

Notes on photographs: Taken 30 December 2018.

Second Growth Disasters

Weather: My outdoor thermometer registers an odd pattern. While my general perception is temperatures fall until dawn, and then rise, it shows the temperatures dropping, rising, then dropping again. Since I’m not up all night, I don’t know how often it happens. The fact it occurs when I happen to look may be coincidence.

The digital thermometer is about two feet from the house. There probably is some optimal location, but the constraints on its placement precluded discovering it. Its sensor first had to be in the shade and within range of the indoor receiver. The only way to meet those requirements was putting it near the house on the north side that got shaded first in the afternoon. I finessed the min-max record by offsetting the time so that it reset itself after the sun passed in late morning.

By necessity it’s close to the house. I suspect that as the outside temperatures drop, the thermostat in the interior hall triggers the furnace to fire. It then puts out heat that seeps through doors and windows to warm the near area just slightly. So, the outside thermometer is captive to the dynamics of the interior heating system.

It doesn’t really change the recording of the low temperature, which occurs after dawn. This week it didn’t quite reach its lowest on the solstice, but it came close. The coldest morning was November 26 when it went down to 10. December 21 was 12.

Last useful snow: 12/13. Week’s low: 12 degrees F. Week’s high: 56 degrees F in the shade.

What’s still green: Stems on roses; leaves on cliff roses, juniper, arborvitae, and other evergreens, yuccas, red hot pokers, Dutch iris, grape hyacinths, blue flax, winecup mallow, beards tongues, snapdragons, pink evening primrose, vinca, sweet peas, Queen Anne’s lace, chrysanthemum, June, needle and cheat grasses

What’s gray, gray-green, or blue green: Four-winged saltbush, fernbush, buddleia, pinks, winterfat, snow-in-summer leaves

What’s red: Stems on sandbar willow and bing cherries, new wood on peaches and apples; leaves on alfilerillo

What’s yellow: Stems on weeping willows

Animal sightings: The birds are in hiding

Weekly update: The picture that has haunted me most from Hurricane Michael’s landfall on western Florida was one of relatively young trees all broken at the same height, and fallen at the same angle near Panama City.[1]

They reminded me of the damage from the Cerro Grande fire when trees of the same height ignited one another on a steep hillside.

The primary cause of the destruction was the same: clear cutting that removed all the trees at one time. It was inevitable, the first regrowth would be uniform.

The progression of forest development to different species and different sizes occurs over time measured in generations. And, very often, under different environmental conditions.

At the time Florida was logged, timber companies were harvesting longleaf yellow pine. They discovered, in areas where logging was done before the Civil War, that Pinus palustris did not come back.

Early foresters blamed feral hogs that ate the seedlings, and wildfires caused by lightening. Cecil Frost noted that in the period between the enforcement of fencing laws against free-range swine in 1880 and the introduction of modern fire suppression techniques in 1930, some regeneration occurred. It stopped in 1930.[2]

They’ve since learned the effects of fire were complex. First, longleaf pine was more fire-resistant than the invading species like loblolly pine. Second, the invading species were scrub that prevented wire grass from growing on the forest floor. Aristida stricta and Aristida beyrichiana were essential to spreading the fires [3]

There also were problems caused by the tree itself. It took thirty years to bear its first cones. The seeds in the cones took three-years to mature, and good seed crops occurred about every ten years.[4]

The other factor must have been ground and air moisture. Longleaf thrives in areas that get 43 to 69 inches of rain a year on sandy, infertile soils.[5] Many factors, natural and human, can alter that ecology. For instance, the duff left by the loblolly prevents the longleaf seeds from reaching the ground and discourages the wire grass.

As the stand of broken trunks in Florida demonstrated, it is far easier to destroy than nurture.

Notes on photographs: Taken 4 July 2013 on the road to Jémez Springs just after it started rising from the Los Alamos side.

End notes:
1. The photo of "A forest of broken trees in Panama City, Florida, on October 12, 2018" was taken by Brendan Smialowski for Agence France-Presse and reprinted by Alan Taylor, "More Photos of the Incredible Devastation Left by Hurricane Michael," The Atlantic website, 13 October 2018.

2. Cecil C. Frost. "Four Centuries of Changing Landscape Patterns in the Longleaf Pine Ecosystem." 17-43 in The Longleaf Pine Ecosystem: Ecology, Restoration and Management. Edited by Sharon M. Hermann. (Tallahassee, Florida: Tall Timbers Research Station, 1993). 38.

3. Frost. 22.

4. Jennifer H. Carey. "Pinus palustris." U.S. Department of Agriculture, Forest Service Fire Effects Information System website. 1992.

5. Carey.

Lentils

Weather: More of the same, cold mornings, promised snow that materializes into thin layers in the dark, and afternoons warm enough to melt it but not warm enough for working outside without getting chilled.

Last useful snow: 12/13. Week’s low: 14 degrees F. Week’s high: 51 degrees F in the shade.

What’s still green: Stems on roses; leaves on cliff roses, juniper, arborvitae, and other evergreens, yuccas, red hot pokers, Dutch iris, grape hyacinths, blue flax, winecup mallow, beards tongues, snapdragons, pink evening primrose, vinca, sweet peas, Queen Anne’s lace, chrysanthemum, June, needle and cheat grasses

What’s gray, gray-green, or blue green: Four-winged saltbush, fernbush, buddleia, pinks, winterfat, snow-in-summer leaves

What’s red: Stems on sandbar willow and bing cherries, new wood on peaches and apples; leaves on alfilerillo

What’s yellow: Stems on weeping willows

Tasks: Some local people have been out amputating their trees, leaving no branches, only trunks and large limbs. I cut some Maximilian sunflower stems.

Animal sightings: Flock of juncos were in the Russian olive; I saw fruit in the peak of one before they flew away.

Weekly update: Two years ago lentils disappeared from the shelves of the local grocery stores. When I say disappeared, there were no bags anywhere in Espanola or Santa Fé and the generic bins had been emptied. It was more like a recall than a distribution problem.

I checked the internet. There were no recalls, and as near as I can tell no crop shortages. It was hard to tell about the latter, since crops reports are all pitched in the future, not the present.

I mentioned it to clerk in one of the stores who agreed it was odd because "It’s not Easter when you cook ‘em."

I found some on-line, but that’s an expensive way to get a legume. They’re sold by the pound, and pounds cost money to ship.

When I got them they were dirty. By that I mean, they were filled with husk debris. It was so bad, I had to put them in a colander to sift out the skins, and then had to manually pick through them.

Now, before this I had had occasional problems with stone chips, either something black or white quartz. I was never sure about the source because I cooked the lentils with rice, and I had the problem when I bought different types of lintels.

Now I knew. The stones were in the lentils, even the expensive, boutique organic ones.

Eventually, the local store that catered to Spanish-speaking customers imported some packages from Mexican suppliers. They still had to be picked through before they could be used. Then, when the legumes returned in the spring, the packages were the worst of all. They must first have cleared the bottoms of their storage units.

Only now, after two years is the quality back to what it had been. The dried seeds aren’t perfect. Some are chipped by the machines that handle them. I assume they’re picked by machines, then dried mechanically. Next, they’re put on conveyers where more machines husk, sort and package them.

The colors and sizes are not uniform. If you ever shelled string beans or peas or looked closed at the corn on the cob, you know not every seed grows to the same size. But some had dark spots that I suspect were caused by tiny insects.

And then there are the ones that are puckered. That could have come from lack of water, oddities that didn’t show up until they were dried, or who knows what else attacks plants growing in fields.

If one looks too closely, one might never eat one again. But, one also realizes those imperfections exist in all processed food, but are masked by the preservatives, sauces, and other additives that are used. Making them into soup disguises everything but the stones.

A friend reminded me not to be finicky. He said his father always told him to eat the peaches the birds had pecked, because they always found the sweetest and ripest.

Notes on photographs: Lentils (Lens culinaris) purchased in Española, 18 December 2018.

Birds’ Nest

Weather: The cold mornings, perhaps combined with the layer of snow that fell early Friday, finally killed off many of the perennial tops that had remained green.

Last useful snow: 12/7. Week’s low: 11 degrees F. Week’s high: 47 degrees F in the shade.

What’s still green: Stems on roses; leaves on cliff roses, juniper, arborvitae, and other evergreens, yuccas, red hot pokers, Dutch iris, grape hyacinths, blue flax, winecup mallow, beards tongues, snapdragons, pink evening primrose, vinca, sweet peas, Queen Anne’s lace, chrysanthemum, June, needle and cheat grasses

What’s gray, gray-green, or blue green: Four-winged saltbush, fernbush, buddleia, pinks, winterfat, snow-in-summer leaves

What’s red: Stems on sandbar willow; leaves on alfilerillo

Animal sightings: Small birds.

Weekly update: It snowed in the night, so every horizontal surface was covered with snow at dawn on Friday. The birds didn’t come out until the afternoon, after it had melted. I don’t know where they spent the morning.

I discovered an empty nest in the crook of the apricot tree Monday. It would have afforded no shelter. It was as level as it could have been made, with a rim that would have been covered with snow.

The birds that winter here don’t bother with nests. Generations of chickadees live in my neighbor’s metal building. Some used to live under my eaves until a pigeon tried to move in. I chased it out, but the small birds didn’t return. Perhaps the prowling cats kept them away.

The small birds I saw after the snow had the dark hangman’s hoods I was told characterized juncos. They flitted from my young cherry trees to the farm fence. The only place I can imagine transients would find shelter is another neighbor’s arborvitae. I know birds live there, because I hear them. All I ever see is brown bodies.

My friend who feeds birds in Santa Fé has an arborvitae near his feeders. It’s always filled with birds, and I gather different species coexist in the evergreen branches.

I have no idea what type of bird built the nest. I didn’t notice any special activity in that area.

It was something fairly large, as small birds go, or something that hatched a lot of eggs. It used some garlic chive stems and possibly winterfat twigs. It also tore pieces off a shop tower that blew into my yard from the chickadee neighbor.

Notes on photographs: Birds’ nest, 3 December 2018.

Birds and Seeds

Weather: Snow was promised a couple times, and a little did materialize today. Mostly we got the collateral weather: warm nights while the moist clouds moved overhead and raw winds in the day.

I don’t know if the ground is frozen yet or not. I never dig to find out. I do I’m having problems opening my gate. The ground there heaves a bit in the winter. A few years ago I put a narrow line of blocks under the gate wheel. My neighbor cut down some winterfat, and the bare soil blew onto my drive. So, the sum of tiny changes: the blocks probably have sunk a bit, the ground may have heaved a bit, and there’s a bid more dirt to clear - and the gate was dragging this week.

Last useful snow: 12/2. Week’s low: 10 degrees F. Week’s high: 56 degrees F in the shade.

What’s still green: Leaves on area hybrid roses, Apache plumes, cliff roses, juniper, arborvitae, and other evergreens, red hot pokers, blue flax, hollyhocks, winecup and leather leaf globe mallows, beards tongues, snapdragon, golden spur columbine, bouncing Bess, pink evening primrose, vinca, coral bells, alfilerillo, Saint John’s wort, cat mint, violets, sweet pea, Queen Anne’s lace, alfalfa, Shasta daisy, chrysanthemum, coreopsis, blanket flowers, anthemis, white yarrow, dandelion, purple asters, June, needle and cheat grasses

Some arborvitae beginning to turn brown.

What’s gray, gray-green, or blue green: Four-winged saltbush, buddleia, pinks, winterfat, snow-in-summer

What still has dead leaves: Area cottonwoods and Russian olives; trees of heaven have their full heads of seed clusters that probably catch as much snow as leaves. My cottonwood finally dropped its leaves.

Animal sightings: Small birds. My bird feeding friend told me the mysterious black hooded birds I saw a week ago may have been juncos.

Weekly update: I forced myself to go out one afternoon and start cutting down the dead Maximilian sunflower stalks. Of course, I got waylaid by all the things that blocked my way.

I began by cutting the dead stems on purple asters and leather leaf globe mallows whose seeds were constantly getting into my clothes. The aster parachutes have been especially troublesome this year.

The globe mallow stems were still green, and wouldn’t cut with my dull loppers. It’s not like I was encouraging them to sprout near my car, so tore at them anyway.

Next, without thinking, I sat on the block walk to cut shorter stems, and slash the garlic chives and hollyhocks that were growing between the blocks. As I went, I swept the blocks with a plastic whiskbroom.

After a half hour, I began to get cold. The air may have been in the mid fifties, but the ground was not. I hadn’t thought to lay a piece of cardboard for insulation.

I went out two days later and discovered some animal had kicked debris over the cleared path. I suspect it was a bird. I don’t know if it detected some residual heat in the area or was drawn by something else. I suspect it was hoping to eat whatever I had planted. Welcome to it, since all that could have been sown were globe mallow, aster, and garlic chive seeds. The last are so plentiful, there was no need to destroy my handiwork.

Notes on photographs: Water serpent and cloud painted on a local stucco wall.

Climates, Microclimates, and Crab Apples

Weather: Except for Thursday and today, every morning’s low temperature was between 15 and 19.

Last useful snow: 11/12. Week’s low: 15 degrees F. Week’s high: 58 degrees F in the shade.

What’s still green: Leaves on area hybrid roses, Apache plumes, cliff roses, juniper, arborvitae, and other evergreens, red hot pokers, blue flax, hollyhocks, winecup and leather leaf globe mallows, beards tongues, snapdragon, golden spur columbine, bouncing Bess, pink evening primrose, vinca, coral bells, alfilerillo, Saint John’s wort, cat mint, violets, sweet pea, Queen Anne’s lace, alfalfa, Shasta daisy, chrysanthemum, coreopsis, blanket flowers, anthemis, white yarrow, dandelion, purple asters, June, needle and cheat grasses

What’s gray, gray-green, or blue green: Four-winged saltbush, buddleia, pinks, winterfat, snow-in-summer

Tasks: Another week spent inside looking out.

Animal sightings: Robin, other small birds

Weekly update: The weather bureau is a bit like the indifferent clerk in a returns department who tells you "climate is what you expect, weather is what you get." [1] And, no returns or exchanges are possible because you’ve already used what you were given.

We’re taught about the one in the simple ways children are taught. In Michigan, that meant I learned the to spell the word "temperate." Simultaneously, I learned to pull on leggings and boots in the winter, and changed to shorts and halters in summer. The one was an abstraction, the other part of daily life.

My trees behave like I did getting dressed to go outside. Instead of eyes, they sense changes in sunlight, temperature and water and alter their metabolic rates so less chlorophyll is produced. The green stuff is the nutrient the plant needs, and when it disappears, the tree sends other chemicals that protect it by sealing off the malfunctioning parts. When the seals are complete, the leaves fall.

Of course, that’s just a paradigm like climate. The reality is some trees either don’t process the signals properly or are genetically unable to. So, when we went from Indian Summer to sub-freezing temperatures in a week, some of my trees still had leaves that were killed by the effects of cold but weren’t prepared to drop.

Several weeks have passed since the shock of November 6. Many of my trees that had bundles of dead leaves have now dropped them, but not the cottonwood. I do think its internal communication systems have been slow to adapt to changing environmental conditions.

The other tree that still has its full complement of dead leaves is the red-leafed plum.

The red-leaved crab apple has managed to denude itself. It’s near the house, and in what I’m realizing is, to add a confusing term, a microclimate warmed by heat escaping from the drafty porch I keep warm with a space heater. Because the area gets some heat, the tree must have remained active enough to continue producing the ethylene necessary to dissolve the connection between the leaf and the branch.

Microclimates are neither climates nor weather because they created by humans. Many of the perennials that are still green are on that side of the house, but I’m not sure if its just the heat or their biogeographic heritages. Most are plants that came from colder environments: sweet peas, pink evening primroses, tansy, vinca, snapdragons, pinks, and snows-in-summer.

My other microclimate is on the northwest side of the garage when I planted the lily, daffodil, and tulip bulbs. Even though it gets afternoon sun, its not enough to warm the area. When I walked by yesterday the concrete block path still was covered with ice.

I’m not sure how birds respond to unexpected bursts of weather. Again, there is that discrepancy between their annual migration patterns and what’s scavenging seeds in my yard. The goldfinches usually spent some time here stripping the Maximilian sunflowers, but this year I only saw them one day.

I have a friend who feeds birds who tells me they haven’t been to his place in Santa Fé either. "Feed" is much a confusing term as "climate." "Cater" might be a better way to describe how he buys specific foodstuffs for birds he expects to stop in his yard. The thistle seed for the goldfinches remains untouched.

Yesterday, I looked out and saw some small birds in an area where I sometimes see chickadees and goldfinches. When I looked closer, they were neither: they had very dark, solid-colored heads and small brown bodies. Near them was a robin. Unmistakable and out of place.

Notes on photographs: Many mornings this week frost has settled on plants after dawn, then melted away. The first shows the tree outside my porch, with the shadows of its branches thrown on the screen. The second catches the light reflecting off the melting frost. The last shows the shining moisture through the shadows. Taken 23 November 2018.

End notes:
1. "What’s the Difference Between Weather and Climate." National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, National Centers for Environmental Information website.

Smoke

Weather: Snow, then cold. Last night the stars were bright and the air filled with smoke.

Last useful snow: 11/12. Week’s low: 14 degrees F. Week’s high: 55 degrees F in the shade.

What’s still green: Leaves on area hybrid roses, cliff roses, juniper, arborvitae, and other evergreens, iris, red hot pokers, blue flax, hollyhocks, winecup and leather leaf globe mallows, beards tongues, snap dragon, golden spur columbine, bouncing Bess, pink evening primrose, vinca, coral bells, alfilerillo, green leaf five eyes, Saint John’s wort, cat mint, baptisia, violets, sweet pea, Queen Anne’s lace, alfalfa, Shasta daisy, Mexican hats, chrysanthemum, coreopsis, blanket flowers, anthemis, white yarrow, dandelion, asters, June, needle and cheat grasses

What’s yellow or yellow-green: Broom snakeweed,

What’s gray, gray-green, or blue green: Four-winged saltbush, buddleia, pinks, winterfat, snow-in-summer, Silver King artemesia, golden hairy aster, chocolate flower

Tasks: Someone who keeps his shrubs and trees pruned was out Tuesday amputating his catalpa.

Animal sightings: Cat, small brown birds

Weekly update: Canute knew he couldn’t control the tides. Saturday, Trump said "I want great climate, we’re going to have that." I’d settle for something I didn’t like a few years ago when winter temperatures hovered around 20 degrees.

So far, we’re repeating last year when it got down to 11 on this day and 10 the next morning. Then morning temperatures returned to the low 20s until December 5 when they reached a low of 5 and stayed below 10 until the solstice.

We haven’t been as cold yet this year, but the fall below 20 degrees started last Tuesday when it was 14 outside.

The laws of physics don’t hibernate, especially the one about heat rising and cold falling. This morning when it was 16 here, it was 31 in Los Alamos, 30 in Santa Fé. It’s not just that our heat rises, but their automobiles produce more fumes that trap the increased heat their producing to keep warm.

I’ve been wanting to get outdoors to continue cutting winterfat and Maximilian sunflower stems. It’s not just because they need it. I have to maintain my summer work schedule if I’m going to counteract the affects of age on my bone density.

Yesterday, when it finally was warm enough to go outside the smoke from California arrived. It looked like it was flowing north, then east on NOAA maps. But storm fronts of some kind (more of those forces of physics) were pushing the smoke south, especially east of the Sangre.

In the house, my eyes were stinging. I alternated between being stuffed up and breathing through my mouth.

Now smoke is something we’ve all become familiar with. I’ve learned the effects are worse when they’re actively fighting the flames with retardants than when the firefighters are letting a blaze burn itself out.

The smoke in California must be geometrically worse than anything Las Conchas produced. Because the fires are so near settled areas, they’re using more retardants. But worse, it isn’t just trees and shrubs that are burning. Buildings are always toxic, and automobiles worse.

The fact Paradise turned into a charnel house is probably only worse psychologically. It’s an image from Halloween that one could be inhaling bits of someone’s grandmother.

Notes on photographs: Cook’s hardware has murals on the outside of its storage building. The original one with the train on flat land (top) was painted over, and the one of the train near the San Juan bridge (bottom) was painted on an abutting wall. Not only does it represent an idealization of our past, but a past when the only pollutants came from steam engines.

Computers vs Reality

Weather: From Indian summer to winter solstice weather in two weeks. This week a cold front came through Thursday night, and the air temperature fell to 17 in the night. It rose before dawn, then dropped back to 21.

Another storm is forecast for tonight with even colder temperatures after. Clouds have been coming and going all day, with hard rain a little after noon. The moisture is a warning that makes the day feel ominous.

Last useful rain: 11/11. Week’s low: 17 degrees F. Week’s high: 62 degrees F in the shade.

What’s blooming: Hybrid roses in area, sweet alyssum, single flowers on plants in protected places

What’s still green: Juniper, arborvitae, and other evergreens, iris, red hot pokers, scarlet and blue flax, hollyhocks, winecup mallows, leather leaf globe mallow, beards tongues, snap dragon, golden spur columbine, bouncing Bess, pink evening primrose, vinca, coral bells, alfilerillo, green leaf five eyes, Saint John’s wort, cat mint, baptisia, violets, sweet pea, Queen Anne’s lace, alfalfa, Shasta daisy, Mexican hats, chrysanthemum, coreopsis, blanket flowers, anthemis, gazania, white yarrow, dandelion, purple and Mönch asters, June and needle grasses; new cheat grass emerging

Apache plume and cliff roses are behaving like evergreens; some leaves turn yellow then fall, leaving the rest.

What’s red or turning red and orange: Purple leaf plum

What’s yellow or turning yellow and orange: Broom snakeweed,

What’s gray, gray-green, or blue green: Four-winged saltbush, buddleia, pinks, winterfat, snow-in-summer, Silver King artemesia, golden hairy aster, chocolate flower

Tasks: The week of Indian Summer meant all the leaves fell at once when the temperatures turned cold. For the first time in years, there are piles of leaves in the drive. The leaves that didn’t turn color died this week, and remain on the cottonwood and black locust trees. I have no intention of raking them, even if were possible on gravel. They aren’t going to kill a lawn, and eventually will blow away

One tree that kept its leaves was the Siberian elm. When the leaves disappeared from other trees, it was possible to see all the places it had invaded without being noticeable during the summer.

Animal sightings: Small brown birds, earth worms

Weekly update: When I voted Tuesday in the local precinct, I was reminded again of the problems confronting areas that do not conform to big city patterns. We have no physical address, we have directions. I have a PO box, and had a hard time remembering by county road. Fortunately the poll worker was understanding; he said his physical has changed three times since the county started assigning building and road numbers (not streets with house numbers).

I’m sure one group that lobbied for the change was large service and delivery companies. Address meant they didn’t experienced drivers.

Whenever I call one and try to give them directions, they say it’s not necessary, the GPS will tell him where to go. I usually manage to get them to have the driver call when he’s in the area, so I can meet him at the road to open the gate. Inevitably, I watch him drive by and come back.

Many mail order nurseries that fill by box with catalogs refuse to ship to the box, because they give the lucrative business to UPS. If you want to start a friendly discussion with a stranger in this area, just mention a recent delivery problem and he or she will top you.

I wanted some lily bulbs and only one company has ever shipped ones that remained viable. Last spring I made arrangements with a friend in Santa Fé to have them shipped to him. Naturally, he told me his UPS story. The driver regularly confuses him with someone else, and the one calls the other when a package has been misdelivered.

When I didn’t get anything by the end of October, I assumed the nursery hadn’t shipped or the package had gone astray. But no, I got an email Friday night saying the package had arrived. Naturally, I didn’t get it until Monday, because there’s a built-in delay with UPS that doesn’t exist with the post office.

The nursery must have put the zip code into their database and come up with USDA zone 6. It wouldn’t have mattered if I had said a cold zone 5; the computer understands our needs better than we do. It also protects the company against people who genuinely don’t know, and removes one step from the order entry process.

Ahead of the Wednesday night cold front, morning temperatures were down to 23 on Tuesday and 22 on Wednesday. Even though I waited until late afternoon, the soil was wet and cold. I’m not sure if the worms were still active or just agitated when I uncovered them.

It didn’t take two days to plant the bulbs because I had ordered so many. My hands got cold. I went back out Thursday to lay some of those wire mesh screens over the bed. I had bought them early in the summer to protect the seedlings from the rabbit; now I wanted to make it harder for the ground squirrel to scavenge.

Notes on photographs: In addition to the murals on walls around Cook’s and Hunter’s old car business, individuals have landscapes painted on their own walls. Many try to recapture local farm life. This one is on private property in town. Pictures taken 19 August 2018.

Laws of Physics

Weather: Rain, lots of rain, followed by cold temperatures.

Last useful rain: 10/31. Week’s low: 25 degrees F. Week’s high: 68 degrees F in the shade.

What’s blooming: Hybrid roses, sweet peas, sweet alyssum, large-flowered soapwort, chrysanthemums, chocolate flowers, blanket flowers, senecio, bachelor buttons, gazanias

What’s red or turning red and orange: Purple leaf plum, Bradford pear, spirea, snowball,

What’s yellow or turning yellow and orange: Apache plume, apricot, apples, potentilla, cottonwoods, Siberian elm, lilacs, beauty bush, brome grass

What’s gray or gray-green: Four-winged saltbush, winterfat, buddleia, fern bush, snow-in-summer, Silver King artemesia, golden hairy aster

What’s still green: Cliff roses, juniper and other evergreens, black locust, alfalfa, iris, red hot pokers, garlic chives, scarlet and blue flax, hollyhocks, winecup mallows, leather leaf globe mallow, pinks, beards tongues, golden spur columbine, vinca, Rumanian sage, cat mints, baptisia, violets, Queen Anne’s lace, Shasta daisy, Mexican hats, coreopsis, anthemis, yellow and white yarrows, dandelion, June and needle grasses; new alfilerillo emerging

Tasks: Some more of the market gardens have been cleared; in others the stalks were knocked down, but remain in rows

Animal sightings: Small brown birds, geckos, sidewalk ants

Weekly update: The laws of physics can be finessed, but they cannot be violated. No matter the weather, the Earth continues its ordained journey around the sun. We had an endless mid-June when temperatures were high and humidity low.

Then, as heated ocean waters met the coming cool weather, hurricanes formed off Central America and México. We got three days of rain with some snow with Tara in mid-October. We got more the end of October, probably as Michael finally moved away from Florida. This past week we got rain Tuesday and Wednesday while Xavier was forming and cold fronts were coming from the northwest.

All that moisture meant plants that had been in remission began their August bloom cycles. More amazing, last week we had an actual autumn when the leaves on trees turned colors, but did not fall. Usually the leaves turn and drop immediately.

Time can be stretched like an elastic band, but when it reaches it fullest extent it snaps back. The leaves are on the ground.

Notes on photographs: All were taken 25 October 2018; all were members of the rose family.
1. Sandcherry (Prunus besseyi)
2. Elberta peach (Prunus persica) with yellow catalpa (Catalpa speciosa)
3. Bing cherry (Prunus avium).

Cold without Frost

Weather: Snowed Monday. About a week ago the weather service hinted at the coming change of seasons when it suggested the storm was being driven by the jet stream rather than the hurricanes in the Pacific. It didn’t say that exactly, but that’s what I understood to be the definition of summer and winter.

Hurricanes are still forming off the western coast of México, but those northern winds are directing the waters from Vincente and Willa into southern Texas.

We did get some residual rain late in the afternoon Tuesday, and winds on Wednesday.

Last useful rain: 10/16. Week’s low: 29 degrees F. Week’s high: 66 degrees F in the shade.

What’s blooming in the area: Hybrid roses, silver lace vine, sweet peas, Maximilian sunflowers, chrysanthemums

What’s blooming in my yard: Calamintha, chocolate flowers, blanket flowers, Sensation cosmos, African marigolds

What’s blooming outside the walls and fences: Bindweed, greenleaf five eyes, chamisa, senecio

What’s red or turning red and orange: Sand cherries, spirea, snowball, Virginia creeper leaves; Russian thistle stems

What’s yellow or turning yellow and orange: Sweet cherry, peach, apricot, pasture roses, cottonwoods, catalpa, globe and weeping willows, skunk bush, caryopteris, grape, milkweed, Maximilian sunflower, goldenrod, daylily leaves

Bedding plants: Sweet alyssum

Tasks: Monday I passed people who obviously had planned to work outside before the snow started falling a little after 7 am. One was loading tree limbs that had been cut to make room for a trailer. He was standing beside his truck warming his hands. Two younger men were cutting the tops of ornamental grass. When I passed them, they two were taking a break to warm their hands.

I took advantage of the clouds on Wednesday to cut winterfat in the afternoon.

Animal sightings: Small brown birds, geckos, sidewalk ants

Weekly update: Monday’s cold did not bring frost; the snow landed on leaves after 7 am, and soon melted. Plants sped up their preparations for winter, especially the purple asters which went out of bloom. Almost none of the so-called weeds are still blooming in my yard.

Cultivated plants responded differently. Those classed as cool-weather bloomers, like roses and sweet peas, continued their late flowering. The annuals grown from seed, like the Sensation cosmos and African marigolds, apparently were able to stay warm enough to stay alive.

Some shrubs, like the sand cherries, turned color long ago, and others like the choke cherry are bare. But many others, like the cottonwood, haven’t begun to slow down their metabolisms enough to lose much color.

Notes on photographs: All pictures taken 19 October 2018 after two mornings when temperatures fell to 31, but before they day they went down to 29.

1. Blanket flower (Gaillardia aristata) grown from seed; this was the second or third year for ths particular plant.

2. Perennial sweet peas (Lathyrus latifolia). They went out of bloom in August and started blooming again the first of October. They picked this location themselves.

3. African marigold (Tagetes erecta). The seeds were planted in mid-May, began growing after rains in July, and started blooming mid-September. They’re in a sheltered area between the black locust to the west, Maximilian sunflowers to the south, and wooden fence to the east.

Outbuildings

Weather: Each year when we reach this time in October when we get some rain, I stop watering and let the plants adjust to nature’s water levels.

Last useful rain: 10/14. Week’s low: 38 degrees F. Week’s high: 70 degrees F in the shade.

What’s blooming in the area: Hybrid roses, silver lace vine, Russian sage, datura, sweet peas, Maximilian sunflowers, chrysanthemums, zinnias

What’s blooming in my yard: Calamintha, chocolate flowers, blanket flowers, Sensation cosmos, African marigolds, morning glories

What’s blooming outside the walls and fences: Bindweed, silver leaf nightshade, greenleaf five eyes, chamisa, broom snakeweed, senecio, purple asters.

What’s red or turning red and orange: Sand cherries, spirea, Virginia creeper leaves; prostrate knotweed stems

What’s yellow or turning yellow and orange: Sweet cherry, choke cherry, peach, apricot, catalpa, skunk bush, caryopteris, grape leaves

Bedding plants: Petunias and dwarf marigolds locally

Tasks: It’s a hard time of year to work outside. My body has no problem adjusting to changing hours of daylight, but my mind is another matter. It’s used to my doing physical labor right after breakfast, and then getting on to other more cerebral activities. When I can’t because it’s still too cold, it doesn’t want to go outside in late morning.

Animal sightings: Rabbit, small brown birds, geckos, hornets, sidewalk ants

The Maximilian sunflowers are out of bloom and the leaves turning yellow. Earlier today I saw the first batch of birds harvesting the seeds. They probably were goldfinches that blend into the pied foliage.

Weekly update: Last year at this time I had hired a dumpster and was cleaning out the garage. I was forced to that expense because I could never find anyone with a pickup truck willing to work, and I simply couldn’t get rid of stuff one trash container at a time.

This problem seems universal. Even when people have trucks to haul away trash, they seem to limit themselves to taking away brush, large weeds like Russian thistles, and crop debris. Manufactured objects just take on roots.

Once upon a time, when men had to build their own storage sheds, the labor acted as a deterrent against amassing stuff. The adobe ones mostly are ruins now, and few wooden ones exist, perhaps because of the cost of wood, perhaps because frame construction isn’t as indigenous as block.

Businesses of different sorts offer easier alternatives: self storage units fill vacant lots and portable sheds are hawked. The problem with these is they fill up, and rather than clean them, more sheds are installed.

Very often the first is well done, but the next is more ephemeral.

I’ve lived in Michigan, Ohio, and west Texas where tornadoes are always a threat. When I drive by these sheds I wonder about how well they are installed. My one neighbor put a cement slab under his first, and had the sellers erect it and its mate.

Another neighbor put his on an existing slab, but probably on some kind of blocks. He told me that’s where the ground squirrel lives.

Like you I’ve been looking at photographs of destruction in western Florida. The winds apparently got under metal surfaces and lifted the sheets away. They show buildings stripped of their siding, and not just the usual trailers. If such winds every happened here, all our sheet metal roofs could disappear.

One child was killed when a carport flew into her house. Those metal canopies on poles are ubiquitous here. I’m not sure it mattered in Florida how strongly they were attached, but here I wonder about them in the spring winds.

Notes on photographs: All taken in the area on 23 May 2018.
1. This began as a garage and attached carport. A few years ago the carport was walled. Later, the metal barn was added.

2. The one on the left was first.
3. Two wooden buildings.

4. Another outbuilding was installed first. Then the one on the left. After that, the one on the right was built.

5. I’m not sure of the order for the carport and two sheds. You can see both sheds are perched somewhat unsteadily on blocks, unlike the ones in #2 which were professionally installed.

Season in Review

Weather: Another hurricane stayed west of the Rockies, giving us only mist. This year, they ones from the Pacific that sometimes come up the valley either have been kept south to go into Texas or stayed beyond the mountains. Since Tuesday, winds have come up every day around noon and continued late in the day.

Last useful rain: 10/2. Week’s low: 33 degrees F. Week’s high: 84 degrees F in the shade.

What’s blooming in the area: Hybrid roses, silver lace vine, Russian sage, datura, sweet peas, Maximilian sunflowers, chrysanthemums, zinnias

What’s blooming in my yard: Calamintha, chocolate flowers, blanket flowers, white cosmos, African marigolds

What’s blooming outside the walls and fences: Bindweed, silver leaf nightshade, greenleaf five eyes, chamisa, broom snakeweed, senecio, áñil del muerto, pigweed, Russian thistles; purple, heath, and golden hairy asters peaked. Seeds from tahoka daisies have become a nuisance; the tridents stick in my pant legs.

What’s red or turning red and orange: Sand cherries, spirea, Virginia creeper leaves; prostrate knotweed stems

What’s yellow or turning yellow and orange: Sweet cherry, choke cherry, peach, apricot, catalpa, skunk bush, caryopteris, grape leaves

What has fruit: Apples have been dropping for some time. Pyracantha berries are bright orange in the area. My purple grapes are turning into raisins, uneaten this year by the ground squirrel. The privet berries finally turned black and glossy. The Woodsi roses are the only ones with hips in my yard.

Bedding plants: Petunias and dwarf marigolds locally

Tasks: It’s too late to clean beds; plants are dropping leaves to cover themselves this winter. I can get out the pruners and go back to removing winterfat that’s grown in places I don’t want. I stopped earlier this year because I couldn’t burn the debris in the drought.

Animal sightings: Rabbit, small brown birds, geckos, hornets, sidewalk ants

Weekly update: Usually when the heat passes in summer, some annuals come into bloom. This year, only one neighbor has zinnias. Mine have peaked and never got more than six inches high.

Sensation cosmos usually are blooming now, but I haven’t seen any yet. The white ones always have done better in my yard, and the Purity have been blooming since mid-August, even if they remained short. The rose-colored Dazzlers I planted in early June put one their first flower this week. The yellow, which are a different species, came up, produced one flower per plant, then quit.

I’ve only seen a few of the mixed morning glories. My neighbor’s came up and covered part of his inside fence, but produced no visible color. My Heavenly Blues finally began blooming this week.

My bedding plants have all but given up. The sweet alyssum that came up from seed has replaced them. The past two summers the French marigolds died in August, but the gazanias stayed in bloom until frost. This year I planted only gazanias, but had to accept a different variety. Like the old marigolds, the plants shrank all summer. While a few have bloomed since, most never did.

The other thing that usually happens this time of year is perennial buds from early summer that didn’t open begin to flourish. A few neighbors have some nice roses, but not many. Betty Prior has had only one cluster open at a time. Some other roses that didn’t appear in the spring are like the yellow cosmos: they put out one late flower.

I have some red hot pokers blooming, as does my next door neighbor. Two weeping yuccas in the village are blooming, as are the Arizona yuccas.

Otherwise, one branch on the Rumanian sage is back in bloom, and a few Jupiter’s beards have put out flowers.

Notes on photographs: All were taken 4 August 2018.
1. Red hot poker (Kniphofia uvaria) that self-seeded.

2. Heavenly Blue morning glories (Ipomoea tricolor) growing through wire mesh put down to keep the rabbit from eating the seedlings. Purity cosmos are blooming with them.

3. Purity cosmos (Cosmos bipinnatus).

Columbine Returns

Weather: Fall arrived on Friday when the morning temperature near my house fell to 33 degrees.

Last useful rain: 9/26. Week’s low: 33 degrees F. Week’s high: 82 degrees F in the shade.

What’s blooming in the area: Hybrid roses, yellow potentilla, buddleia, silver lace vine, Russian sage, rose of Sharon, datura, sweet pea, coreopsis, Maximilian sunflowers, chrysanthemums, zinnias, pampas grass

What’s blooming in my yard: Chocolate flowers, blanket flowers, Mönch aster, white cosmos, African marigolds, bachelor buttons, larkspur

What’s blooming outside the walls and fences: Apache plume, stick leaf, velvetweed, bindweed, silver leaf nightshade, greenleaf five eyes, leather leaf globemallow, broom snakeweed, Hopi tea, horseweed, wild lettuce, plain’s paper flower, áñil del muerto, native sunflowers, Tahoka daisy, pigweed, Russian thistles; purple, heath, and golden hairy asters; quack grass; seven-week, black, blue, and side oats grama

Bedding plants: Pansies, sweet alyssum; petunias and dwarf marigolds locally.

Tasks: The days get shorter, and so does my time to work outside. This week I switched from a three-day watering cycle back to a four-day one. It’s now dark at 6 am, when I used to start.

Animal sightings: Cat, small brown birds, geckos, small bees, hornets, other small flying insects, sidewalk ants, crickets

The neighbor’s cat doesn’t like cold air. Some mornings it looks like it would dive into the house in the morning, even though the rest of the time it treats me with suspicious indifference.

Weekly update: This summer I cleared the golden spur columbine that was crowding the daylilies. I also did some leveling with new soil.

The columbine is back with a vengeance. The plants in the new soil have woods that are at three to five inches across, and deeper than my spade will dig. I get out what I can, but the remains will regenerate. I had hoped to plant something else there, but not I fear the columbine roots will choke anything from underneath.

The plants also reburied the daylilies. There’s one small rose that’s disappeared completely. When I did them out, I find the same kinds of massive roots have replaced the smaller ones I removed earlier.

Seeds landed between and right next to leaves that stopped the flow of air. They put down narrow roots, then expand. It's hard to get them out without damaging the daylily or poker root. Even then, the buried remnant is likely to squeeze out the desired plant.

When I remove the plants, I discover the ground covered with small seedlings. What with the cool temperatures and bits of rain this is their season to grow.

Notes on photograph: Tree of life on sign for a business painted on the side of an adobe building, 19 August 2018.

Grass Attacks

Weather: Decent rain on Thursday. In the past week the golden spur columbine has doubled in height and seedlings have come up in every available space. They buried some recently planted iris.

Last useful rain: 9/20. Week’s low: 43 degrees F. Week’s high: 90 degrees F in the shade.

What’s blooming in the area: Hybrid roses, yellow potentilla, buddleia, trumpet creeper, bird of paradise, silver lace vine, Russian sage, rose of Sharon, datura, sweet pea, coreopsis, black-eyed Susan, Maximilian sunflowers, chrysanthemums, zinnias, pampas grass

One person planted annual four o’clocks in a raised bed at the end of his trailer. They’ve now been there several years, getting larger and bushier every year. I don’t know if they winter over or if the owner lifts the roots and replants them in the spring.

This year, I ordered some seeds to see if I would have his luck, especially since the perennial species has naturalized in my yard. The plants remained small through the heat of June and July, then began blooming a couple weeks ago. They’re nothing yet to compare with my neighbor, but maybe they’ll survive like his.

What’s blooming in my yard: Large-flowered soapwort, David phlox, pink evening primroses, calamintha, scarlet flax, chocolate flowers, blanket flowers, Mönch aster, white cosmos, African marigolds, bachelor buttons, larkspur

What’s blooming outside the walls and fences: Apache plume, stick leaf, velvetweed, bindweed, silver leaf nightshade, greenleaf five eyes, leather leaf globemallow, goat’s head, prostate knotweed, yellow evening primroses, broom snakeweed, Hopi tea, horseweed, wild lettuce, dandelions, plain’s paper flower, áñil del muerto, native sunflowers, Tahoka daisy, pigweed, Russian thistles; purple, heath, and golden hairy asters; quack grass; seven-week, black, blue, and side oats grama

Bedding plants: Pansies, sweet alyssum; petunias and dwarf marigolds locally.

Tasks: I had another hose fail this week, but in a new way. The rubber pealed away on the inside, blocking the flow of water.

I’d known something was wrong a couple weeks ago when beds were getting less water. I checked that I hadn’t left another hose running some place that was diverting the water. Then I climbed into the well to purge the sand filter. Nothing changed. It didn’t seem right to call the maintenance company to change the other filters: they’ve never created this serious a problem.

Friday no water came through. I walked the line and found no leaks or kinks. Then, I detached the hose from its connection and water came pouring out. I reached into the hose and felt something hard a few inches from the end I thought was a stone. When I got it into better light I saw the rubber.

Animal sightings: Cat, small brown birds, geckos, small bees, hornets, other small flying insects, sidewalk ants, crickets

When I was weeding this week I found a dead crow in the grass a few feet from the utility pole. I asked my neighbor, who had worked for electrical utilities, if it had electrocuted itself. He said it was possible: if it put its beak somewhere near a certain place near the pole then current would jump to it.

He suggested I look for singed feathers. I didn’t get that close. I removed it wearing rubber gloves and a face mask. Besides, it probably had died just before I smelled something bad last April, because only the feathers and bones were left.

As I’m sure someone already has said: gardening is not for the squeamish.

Weekly update: I wonder sometimes if it’s inevitable that steppe vegetation will completely replace native grasses in this area. When a winterfat or four-wing salt bush gets started it kills everything under it, leaving the soil open to the kind of wind erosion I mentioned last week. The area remains bare after I cut down the intruder.

I know grasses evolved as a plant type before trees and plants at a time when the Earth’s climate was very different. I thought it possible the native grasses simply hadn’t adapted as well to the changes and were vulnerable to the plants that emerged with the new conditions.

I have one area above the retaining wall where nothing would grow. I put in some bulbs and the ground squirrel ate them. I finally managed to get some miniature roses to grow and the rodent bit them all off at ground level and no more would grow.

I noticed what looked like crab grass did grow, so I planted some blue grama and buffalo grass seed. Some finally survived, I think the buffalo.

Then, everything started to invade. The golden hairy asters and hollyhocks have been the most aggressive. Next, the pink evening primroses moved in. This week, while I was removing those ground squirrel mounds I mentioned last week, I found quack grass on the perimeter getting ready to drop its seeds.

Apparently the lush grass creates a ground cover that retains water and traps seeds. Alas, as soon as the seedlings grow they kill their nurse. Or, I kill them.

Notes on photographs:
1. Perennial four o’clock (Mirabilis multiflora) in my yard, 19 August 2018.
2. Annual four o’clock (Mirabilis jalapa) in my yard, 8 September 2018.
3. Annual four o’clock in neighbor’s raised bed, 9 July 2018.