Luxury of Space

Weather: It got very warm last week, and people were working in their yards. Then the chilly winds began, and it was impossible to be out.

Last rain: 3/18. Week’s low: 23 degrees F. Week’s high: 73 degrees F in the shade.

What’s blooming: Bradford pear, apricot, early peach, forsythia, daffodils, alfilerillo, tansy and purple mustards, dandelion

What’s emerging: Apache plume, roses, flowering and one type of fruiting crab apple, flowering quince, weeping and globe willows, Siberian elms, privet, arborvitae, leatherleaf globemallow, sidalcea, Maltese crosses, bindweed, ladybells, western stickseed, winterfat, snakeweed broom

Tasks: I ran all the hoses for the first time this week. Despite the harsh winter, I didn’t find any that failed because of the cold. One might have been stepped on when the men were working on the shrubs, and another attacked by an animal.

Animal sightings: Chickadees, house wrens, and other small birds, small bees, first fly in the house, worms

The apricots started blooming on March 18 after some days in the high 60s. The winds were too high for the bees. Then the afternoon temperatures cooled to the mid-50s. Bees don’t come out until the air temperature is 55, and aren’t fully active until its 66. All those flowers that opened were wasted, if one wanted fruit.

The bees finally appeared last Sunday, when it reached 64. Since then, winds have come up in the afternoon, so they could only be active in the late mornings.

My apricots never come into full bloom like my neighbors; instead a few blossoms open at a time. This probably is a defense against the vagaries of the weather. They may never produce a full crop, but they should produce something every year that it doesn’t freeze in late spring.

Weekly update: Like most, I’m hunkered in with enough supplies so I don’t have to go to a grocery store for several weeks. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for families to be confined to the house for days with no sports on television. I’ve discovered space is a great luxury.

The first kind of space is room to store food. When I was a graduate student in Philadelphia, the refrigerator had one of those small, internal, hanging cabinets. It froze over when I put anything in it. If I were there now, I would be having problems. There was only one grocery story (and that was blocks away) and some corner markets. I would have had to live on canned goods.

Over time, I ate more frozen vegetables. I bought a small freezer when I moved to Española, so I could stock up when stores in Santa Fé had what I wanted. Monday I made one final foraging trip to that city and now have enough frozen food for a month.

I lived in a studio apartment when I was in Philadelphia. While that may sound romantic, it meant I cooked, slept, and studied in the same room. Ever since, I have rented places with two bedrooms, even when it meant I had to live in a bad neighborhood. I had discovered the need for internal space.

I’ve had to walk for at least half an hour a day for the last twenty years to maintain my bone density. At first, I used gyms. Those, of course, now are closed.

Then, when I no longer was commuting to work and passing some facility, I began walking in the house. In the summer I can use the full length, but in the winter, need to close some doors. Still, I have enough room to pace without feeling pent in.

The greatest luxury is land. Except for days when it is too cold or too windy, I can get outdoors. The directives that we stay indoors don’t apply. There’s no one within hundreds of feet, and my neighbors are seldom out.

It may be too soon to plant seeds, or to clean perennial beds, but there is always something to do. I spent some days cleaning out the grasses and alfalfa that had invaded some rambling roses. It’s not something one does in the heat of summer, nor without wearing padded clothes like heavy sweats.

I’ve lived in places where it was possible to have lawns. Some men told me they used mowing it as an excuse to be outside. Here, a few use rider mowers, but it’s too early for the grass to be growing. In many places it hasn’t even turned green.

Instead, I’ve been hearing weed eaters. Without traffic to mask the sound, the noise of the motors carries farther.

Notes on photographs:
1. When globe willows (Salix matsudana umbraculifera) turn bright green, the leaves are separating from the stems; 28 March 2020.

2. Sequentially opening buds on a Blenheim-Royal apricot (Prunus armeniaca), 19 March 2020.

End notes: Wikipedia. "Forage (Honey Bee)."