The Peas That I Waited So Long

The peas that I waited so long to come up are now disappearing. Birds keep finding ways under the netting. Poking little sticks in the ground to hold the netting down doesn’t work because one of my garden cats keeps running into it. I’ve put rocks along the bottom now so it shouldn’t form new openings. Cats seem to have very active imaginations. Every once in awhile they get a crazy, cross-eyed look on their faces and scamper across the ground batting at an unseen entity. When their paw hits a rock, leaf or stick they jump on it as if it were alive. They know it’s not alive but they bat it to make it move, and pretend it’s alive. I’m always finding little piles of feathers in the garden that remind me how useful cats are, and when I see them laying very still, staring at something on the ground, I walk gently so as not to frightened an unsuspecting mouse.

My garden pathways are getting a two inch thick layer of almost decomposed stall cleanings. It’s decomposed enough to stop steaming but not enough to be ready for the mounds and planting areas. The shavings are not decomposed completely enough to be black, which means they will take too much nitrogen from the soil to get completed. They are perfect for pathways though because trampling on them will break them down further. Pathway mulch of sawdust needs replenishing more often than shavings and allows weeds to grow through. Shredded tree branches seem to be very long lasting, and a great weed barrier when applied thickly, like three inches. I think it has to do with the way the piece weave themselves together and form a mat. My stall mulch is free so it tops the list of preferred material, and has become plentiful so I can use it with abandon. The weeds I allowed to grow in the pathways are now buried and I’m liking the look of brown walkways instead of green.

I heard the mating call of a dove yesterday, and spotted four buttercup flowers on the dog walk. Spring is here. The official first day of spring is March 20th, but I’m jumping the gun. Seeing the buttercup flowers always makes me think that I’ve made it through another winter, and good times are gonna roll. Winter is associated with death, and spring with rebirth, and indeed, my spirits now soar. The official first day of spring should coincide with the time change because the extra hour of daylight in the evenings gets people into their gardens after dinner. Having a full belly isn’t always conducive to garden chores, but strolling the aisles is a bonding experience that resets your priorities. It’s truly amazing how significant vision is for our mental health, and how much our subconscious processes the information after it’s been inputted. It seems like I will forever be impressed by small details of nature that get locked on to my memory banks.

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