We got a new compost bin.
It's smaller than the last one (which I'm holding on to), so it fits under the stairs better. I think it's also better than the other one wrt/ material and construction (I sound like a contestant on Project Runway). I also like being able to take the whole top off. Aeration will be a problem when I want to turn the pile with a pitchfork (always a favorite pastime), but I'll mix that metaphor and cross that bridge when I come to it. In the meantime, it's a-compostin'. I filled 'er up right away, even layering the greens and browns which is usually too intense for me. Already the pile gives off heat, and water condenses on the bottom of the lid. Go!
I formally raised this bed w/ some cobbles. Before, the bed soil was at grade but with a thick mulch applied on top that inevitably rolled into the gravel path. Now it's a raised bed.
Those are the stairs that go up to the garage door. The house's foundation is about 2' high in the back, and below grade in the front. I don't know how much. Does that make sense? This is San Francisco. It's hilly. Does that help?
Anyhow, the planting in that bed needs some consideration. I'm committed to the Vitis 'Emeryville Pink' and the rambling Rosa 'Veilchenblau' both of which I'm training on the stairway. I planted the root crowns much too close together, but grapes and roses can find their own way, right? Make it work.
Also in there: a blueberry 'Patriot', a Fuchsia boliviana, some black mondo grass, Tweedia caerulea, some sea pink. Randomness. Needs more thought. More conception. More purposefulness.
Elsewhere...
I think it's strange that my 'Early Cherry' tomatoes all have a pointy nipple on the blossom end. I do not remember that from the last two years that I've grown this variety.
The recently sown cilantro bolted. Boltified. Boltitude. Bolitlicious. @Tangledbranches chriped, "I think cilantro tastes better after it starts to flower. You can cut it back and it will probably resprout. Pretty flowers, BTW." Well, hmm.
This fall/winter, I'm thinking about removing the bamboo clump that supports the passionflower 'Victoria'.
What to replace it with? Leading contenders include apple and pear. I have Ribes aureum I could move there. How big does Ribes nigrum get? Should I put a rose on the fence? Lots to think about.
Ignore the moldy dahlia and look at the Heuchera 'Caramel' and 'Marmalade'. Also, those green columbine leaves. Nice, huh?
Also, Phormium 'Black Adder' and Beschorneria rigida. Groovy, eh?
The first fall aster opened today. That makes it officially "late summer" in the back 40.
To that end, I recently snipped all the leaves off the buckeye to drive it in to dormancy. I may be more tolerant of those summer-brown leaves in the future. But for now, off they go.
It's late summer.
Pick a raspberry.
8/27/09
8/25/09
Green Gulch Farm Trail, Part 2 of 2
Our hike continued for at least 3 or 4 miles after leaving Green Gulch Farms.
Hilly terrain
and a summer-dormant gray/brown color palette.
With bits of color, like this, from Mimulus aurantiacus.
And the occasional poppy, our state flower, Eschscholzia californica.
I don't know what this little salvia is, but we saw a lot of it.
There would be more perhaps were it not for the massive, spreading thickets of blackberry. I think this could actually be California's native blackberry, Rubus ursinus.
Even amid all the dormancy, there is still some color and texture to enjoy.
And then there are the little things.
Farther along the path
There is a place to rest
And spend the night
At a cozy cabin
That that can be rented.
There are worse places to sleep after a day of arduous hiking.
Not too far from civilization (Muir Beach).
Hilly terrain
and a summer-dormant gray/brown color palette.
With bits of color, like this, from Mimulus aurantiacus.
And the occasional poppy, our state flower, Eschscholzia californica.
I don't know what this little salvia is, but we saw a lot of it.
There would be more perhaps were it not for the massive, spreading thickets of blackberry. I think this could actually be California's native blackberry, Rubus ursinus.
Even amid all the dormancy, there is still some color and texture to enjoy.
And then there are the little things.
Farther along the path
There is a place to rest
And spend the night
At a cozy cabin
That that can be rented.
There are worse places to sleep after a day of arduous hiking.
Not too far from civilization (Muir Beach).
The Big Fun
...with little brown birds.
Currently, the Big Fun in the garden comes from the flock of LBBs that visit for a bath every day, quite reliably, around 11:30 a.m.
They start out assembling in the neighbor's bamboo and pear tree. Then they migrate closer in to the birdbath on my Ceanothus and Fuchsia boliviana. After a few minutes of these reconnaissance maneuverings, 2 or 3 of them go for the birdbath. When it's clear they won't be molested, the rest of the flock joins the bath, each for about 30 seconds. When the whole crew has bathed, they go back to the bamboo or pear to dry out for a few minutes. Then they fly away, always north. I then run down to empty out the dirty bathwater, and refill it with fresh water.
The whole event, from assembly to departure, happens in less than 10 minutes.
I'd take a movie of the whole thing, but it would take forever to upload. Here are a couple short movies instead.
Added: Here are 2 in the Ceanothus, scoping out the scene.
And another movie at the bath.
Currently, the Big Fun in the garden comes from the flock of LBBs that visit for a bath every day, quite reliably, around 11:30 a.m.
They start out assembling in the neighbor's bamboo and pear tree. Then they migrate closer in to the birdbath on my Ceanothus and Fuchsia boliviana. After a few minutes of these reconnaissance maneuverings, 2 or 3 of them go for the birdbath. When it's clear they won't be molested, the rest of the flock joins the bath, each for about 30 seconds. When the whole crew has bathed, they go back to the bamboo or pear to dry out for a few minutes. Then they fly away, always north. I then run down to empty out the dirty bathwater, and refill it with fresh water.
The whole event, from assembly to departure, happens in less than 10 minutes.
I'd take a movie of the whole thing, but it would take forever to upload. Here are a couple short movies instead.
Added: Here are 2 in the Ceanothus, scoping out the scene.
And another movie at the bath.
8/24/09
Green Gulch Farm Trail, Part 1 of 2
A friend and I did this hike today. The long, uphill component and long, slow descent afterward tired me out. The key feature was passing through Green Gulch Farm, an organic vegetable and flower farm owned and operated by the San Francisco Zen Center.
But first we start from the trailhead. (Note: We had complete cloud cover and a cool ocean breeze the whole time. Which was nice, esp. considering the aforementioned "long, uphill component" and "long, slow descent".)
I suppose the trails, being older than the farm, have an easement through the farmland. You pass through the compost operation first, where some sunflower and pumpkin seeds evidently germinated out of composted, well, sunflowers and pumpkins.
Beyond that grow the greens and coles.
Long rows with nice textures.
(I think the bluish kale is 'Nero Toscana', right?)
The weather here never changes.
Dust from the road covers the leaves and fruit growing nearby.
These dwarf sunflowers w/ huge disks have a lot of character.
Since a Zen Center runs the farm, Zenniness prevails.
The Farm gets more gardeny the farther into it you go.
There's a lovely tool shed in the nursery area.
This is what your work area looks like, right?
The gardens are delightfully formal, with grass paths and clipped yews. The whole nine yards.
Beautiful apple trees, perfectly maintained.
These are the best-maintained apple espaliers I've ever seen.
Here endeth Part 1. The trail continues into the coastal hills in Part 2.
But first we start from the trailhead. (Note: We had complete cloud cover and a cool ocean breeze the whole time. Which was nice, esp. considering the aforementioned "long, uphill component" and "long, slow descent".)
I suppose the trails, being older than the farm, have an easement through the farmland. You pass through the compost operation first, where some sunflower and pumpkin seeds evidently germinated out of composted, well, sunflowers and pumpkins.
Beyond that grow the greens and coles.
Long rows with nice textures.
(I think the bluish kale is 'Nero Toscana', right?)
The weather here never changes.
Dust from the road covers the leaves and fruit growing nearby.
These dwarf sunflowers w/ huge disks have a lot of character.
Since a Zen Center runs the farm, Zenniness prevails.
The Farm gets more gardeny the farther into it you go.
There's a lovely tool shed in the nursery area.
This is what your work area looks like, right?
The gardens are delightfully formal, with grass paths and clipped yews. The whole nine yards.
Beautiful apple trees, perfectly maintained.
These are the best-maintained apple espaliers I've ever seen.
Here endeth Part 1. The trail continues into the coastal hills in Part 2.
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