No More Copper Spray; and no more Sulfur for Acidity, either

In my last post, I stated that my goal for the 2018 gardening year is to improve my soil. There are lots of obvious ways to do this, and we'll talk about those too, but I also want to talk about some ways I might have been damaging my soil without even realizing it. 

If you have a peach or nectarine tree, you probably have had experience with peach leaf curl, a disease that is caused by a fungus. It puckers and blisters the leaves, and in advanced cases, can limit fruit production. It can also affect the twigs and branches, causing them to die back. 

One way to deal with this fungus is to spray fungicides made of copper. These fungicides are OMRI approved for organic growing - after all, copper is a natural substance. The usual prescription is to spray the tree three times in its dormancy; once when the leaves drop, once at New Year's, and once in February before the trees start to leaf again. I have followed this prescription for the last several years. (However, we STILL get peach leaf curl. Every dang year.) 

Though copper is a 'natural' substance, and it is approved for organic growing, it is not necessarily safe for humans or animals. The package has a 'WARNING' label, which means it has a Moderate Toxicity: "'WARNING' indicates the product is moderately toxic if eaten, absorbed through the skin, inhaled, or it causes moderate eye or skin irritation." One is supposed to wear gloves and a mask when using this product. One is also supposed to douse the entire tree - trunk and all branches, until the product drips off the tree. 

The package also comes with an environmental warning. When I looked up how copper affects the environment, I found a lot of scientific articles about runoff and fish. I found little that talked about its affect on the microbiology of the soil. But let's just think about it for a moment: If fish are so affected, after it runs off, goes through sewers, and finally into a place where they live, imagine what it's like to be a microorganism living directly beneath the tree. If this stuff can burn our skin on contact, imagine how destructive it must be to earthworms, beneficial nematodes, arthropods, protozoa, or fine threads of mycelium? And just as the microbiology starts to make a comeback after the first attack, we hit them with another? And then another?

I've done this every year without a thought for the creatures in the soil.

You may ask, why do these creatures matter? Nutrients in the soil are generally not terribly available to the plants, unless they are soluble. And soluble nutrients leach away quite quickly. The way the plants get regular nutrition is that the microorganisms process it in their bodies, then poop it out, making it available right away to the plant. This is a sort of constant fertilizer being made available to the plant in a form it can access. If the soil is dead - with no microbiota - the plant will struggle, and need constant inputs from us.

In the same token, I've added sulfur acidifying fertilizer every year to my blueberries. We all know that blueberries prefer an acid soil, right? But what does that sulfur do to the microorganisms living in the soil? More importantly, what does it do to the mycorrhizal fungi that colonize the roots of blueberries? I recently did a report on plants in the Ericaceae family, of which blueberry is a member; plants in this family do not get their nutrition from soil. They get it almost solely from those fungal hyphae, which form attachments to the roots of the plant. Which means the blueberries will succeed only if those attachments form. If I use sulfur on the plants, am I killing the fungal hyphae? Will the plant succeed without my involvement? Well, it has evolved to do so. Why don't I trust that instead?

I have thrown out my Liqui-cop. I have thrown out my Espoma organic sulfur acidifying fertilizer. I intend to let the soil increase LIFE, for the animals to recreate all over the place and do what they do best, and what they were designed to do, and that is to feed my plants and ward off diseases, without any help from me. It may take several years for the soil to recover in these areas. The copper that I sprayed also affected the soil underneath and around some of my vegetable beds, which might be why the growth in that particular corner is always lacking, compared to the other beds. This is something I've been scratching my head about for a while now. The copper might be the answer to the lack of vigor in this particular bed, despite repeated applications of compost. Compost is seething with life. And then I come along with the copper sledgehammer and destroy it.

So, it will be interesting to see how the peach tree does this summer, and together we can watch to see if things improve. Of course the tree is also in its senescence and probably nearing the end of its life. In which case, I'll just start over - and plant a peach leaf curl-resistant tree. It will also be interesting to see how the blueberries produce. I'm excited to try this experiment, and hope you will join me in eschewing the 'organic' tools that we once relied on.

Gardening goals for 2018

It's crunch time at school. The last two weeks of the semester (I've just finished with one of them) contain three finals, one lab practical, two large projects, two presentations, and one book discussion for credit. It's been a bit of a whirlwind. Not a whole lot of time to spend in the garden.

Spinach, with melting frost

However I always try to stop doing homework several times a day and get out to do some sort of yardwork, which I find clears my mind, warms my body, and cheers my spirit. Sometimes I sweep up leaves from the sidewalks and add them to the paths between the beds. Sometimes I turn the compost pile. Sometimes I haul water from the rain barrel to the container plants. I find these breaks very necessary.

8 am, 32 degrees, and the bees are already working - astounding. So much for that old adage about them staying at home unless it's 50 degrees or above.

We've had lovely frosty mornings, but zero rainfall. We've had to run the drip system but I don't like to. The more I learn about what's in our municipal water (which has been added for good reasons), the more I learn it's bad for the garden. More on that in another post. I have to be in the right frame of mind to tackle that one. I must say, the news from my Soil class has been more depressing than hopeful of late.

This cabbage is so beautiful, with it's deckle edge of purple.

I've been removing the summer annual flowers as they get burned up by frost - it's hard to say goodbye to the bright colors of the zinnias, the lacy foliage of the cosmos, and the cheerful orange-red of the tithonia. I'm sure the bees and hummingbirds will miss them too. I retrieved the hummingbird feeder from its summer storage, cleaned it and filled it with sugar syrup. It's hung in its usual place in the Chinese pistache tree right outside the kitchen window for optimal viewing. My tiny friends haven't discovered it just yet, but I know it will soon be a hub of activity. The hummingbirds are often the first birds awake in the morning, getting their bodies moving in the cold. Did you know hummingbirds lower their body temperatures at night so they can survive the low temperatures? We can thank my friend Barbara, birder extraordinaire, for that tidbit of information. It's good to know things, don't you agree?

Shallots in the foreground, wheat in the background.

It's rather freeing to be gardening without the row covers this year, but it also produces a bit of anxiety about how the crops are doing. As you can see from these pictures, everything growing at the moment is placed here because it can withstand cool temperatures. All these crops actually need or improve with a little bit of cold. The only thing that's on the edge is the wheat. 

Artichoke

It's winter wheat, so it's meant to be grown now, so I think it'll be ok. It's just a new crop for me. And, as I've said previously, if it does die, at least it will be a green manure for the beds. But I sure would like a small yield for my sourdough baking. 

This is how the chickens look in the morning before the sun hits their yard: Hunkered down and fluffed up to stay warm.

I'm a little disappointed in my clover germination rate, and have ordered more to spread around  all of the bedded plants, but it probably won't do much at this point, until it warms up a bit. I really need that nitrogen source for the beds. Next winter I might just plant all the beds to clover or vetch over the winter, in order to further improve the soil.

Narcissus blooming already!

Speaking of improving the soil, I've ordered a quarter pound of lupine to scatter in the pollinator beds, along with the usual poppies and other California natives. I realize I haven't done much to enrich the soil in those beds, other than random handfuls of compost over the years. The lupine, being a legume, should help introduce some nitrogen into those areas. As I clear out the summer annuals, I'll add the spring wildflower seeds to compost and scatter them in place, so that as soon as the weather warms up in January, they can get started growing.

Arbequina olives, getting closer to harvest. These two trees are in very large pots, but I'm planning on transplanting them into a space where a privet has been. The privet is now a 15-ft tall tree, and is terribly good at reseeding itself, blech. The only reason I've left it so long is for the bees - they love the flowers. But it's time to remove it. And the olives will be happier in the ground, though they will need excellent drainage.

I'm actually rather unhappy with the lack of bed space for greens, though I planned it to be this way. All the greens are in containers, and they are doing fine, but I'm not getting the harvests that I usually do. I'd have to plant a zillion containers to equal the size of one 4x8 bed. I miss having overflowing baskets of chard, spinach, and kale. I have to be conservative with my use, which bothers me. This is greens season. We should be profligate with their use, eating them at every meal, getting all those good winter nutrients. Instead I am rationing them. 

shelling peas

So I'm not sure how to handle this. This is the problem with a small farm. You need time for the cover crops because the soil needs the rejuvenation. But that means there is less space for actual crops. If I had an acre, I could trade off half each season and have room for both. Somehow I am going to have to figure out how to incorporate both covers and crops into the same beds at the same time. Actually this would be good for many reasons. I just have to change my mind about how the beds are supposed to look and work. I have to be creative in my planting schemes. 

Some flowers are not minding the cold - the yellow is Rudbeckia hirta and the purple is Felicia echinata.

I think it's important to have an overarching goal for each gardening year. 2017 was our year of tomatoes: Our goal was to simply have more of those, both for fresh eating and for canning. And it worked! Usually we are out of canned tomatoes by about this time of the year. But I still have many jars of both tomatoes and tomato products on the canning shelf and in the freezer. This really feels good. We set a goal, and we accomplished it. 

Brussels sprouts, recovering after something ate them

So I think the goal for 2018 is to focus on the soil. Make more and better compost. If I must purchase it, buy the best stuff I can find (more on that later). Don't skimp. Find ways to incorporate living green manures in with my annual crop systems. Continue to utilize chicken manure from our own hens, but also continue to find other sources of clean manure (without any chemicals from antibiotics or other). Know sources. Try to provide as much from my own property as possible. Resource what I have here for best use. Make connections with my neighbors for more resources that might be going to the landfill.

Garlic. This is one of the beds where the clover just didn't germinate. Some rain would be helpful in this regard. I'll try again. This is an ideal crop to have intercropped with another species, as garlic doesn't take up much lateral space.

'Better Soil' is actually a pretty large goal, and is one that can't be accomplished in just a year. And in fact it's been part of all we do here, and have done, for many years now; you've come along with me as I've learned best practices and tried to improve our soil all over the garden, whether it's for vegetables, fruit trees, or perennial ornamentals. But if I make it the primary goal, I think much more will be accomplished much more quickly, because everything I do will be to accomplish that goal first. 

These trays of beets, romaine, and carrot starts have been on a table outside under the shelter of a tree. They are doing fine with the frosts. 

Some of my practices will have to change. I think I will do less direct sowing in the garden, and instead make use of our little homemade greenhouse for lots of seed starting this winter, so I can put starts in the beds. This means that it will be easier to keep things growing all the time in each bed. There will always be cover; there will never be a time when the beds are bare. For instance, I have a bed where I left Thai basil growing and flowering in half of it, but it is now dead from frost. So I'll take some of these starts I have and replace the basil with them. The other half of the bed has fully grown cauliflower plants, which succeeded pepper plants. I certainly couldn't direct-seed into that basil half of the bed now - well, maybe turnips or radishes - but it would be hard to germinate anything else in there at the moment. However I can transplant these starts in, and they should do just fine.

Ajania pacifica, or Pacific Chrysanthemum, a welcome winter bloomer in a protected space

I'm excited to take you along with me as I work on this goal, and to see how much I can accomplish in one year. I'd also love to hear what YOUR goals are. Plus, has anyone started buying tomato seeds yet? I'm getting all the catalogs, and starting to make a list of all the new ones I want to try. Chime in on your favorites, please, and together maybe we can figure out the ultimate tomato list. 

Have a wonderful weekend, everyone.

December Planting List, Hoshigaki update, and Compostable Silverware

Goodness, this is a short list.

I just recently planted parsnips in a container, though, and they have germinated. Also, I would say you could continue sowings of kale, chard, and spinach, as long as they are in a protected area (under cover, in containers, etc). 

Other to-do items for later this month: Prune blueberries and huckleberries, severely prune any California fuchsias (Epilobium or as it used to be called, Zauschneria), prune Caryopteris (must confess I've done that already), and divide any blanket flowers (Gaillardia). 

A couple other things:

Remember how I started to make Hoshigaki over a month ago? I peeled some Hachiya persimmons, strung them up by a sunny window, let them hang there for over a month, massaging them every other day? Well, today they are finally finished. 

This is exactly how they are supposed to look - like they are covered with powdered sugar. Apparently that IS the sugar, coming up to the surface of the fruit; that's what all the websites say. Personally, I don't think that's what's really happening - I think it's a sort of good bacteria - but either way, this is what the finished product is supposed to look like. We sliced one up and ate it. It's good. Not great - still tastes like persimmons, though not at all astringent. I guess I just don't like persimmons very much, in any form. I suppose these would be good in oatmeal, or baked into a fruitcake (if you like that sort of thing). 

They are certainly pretty when sliced however.

It's another food preservation project that makes your head spin a little. Here's this juicy fruit, skinned and hanging in your house, being visited by fruit flies and such, and you just let it go and eventually it becomes edible again. And probably not just edible, but fabulously good for you, like kimchi or yogurt. My thoroughly Western mind balks though. It just doesn't seem right somehow, like how Tom felt about the country ham. But these are ancient ways of preserving food, that worked for thousands of years. Kinda twists the old noodle a bit.

One last thing. I've been learning SO MUCH in class that I want to share with you, about soil, about water, about trees.... it's just hard to condense an entire semester's worth of work into a blog post. So I'll just share tidbits when I can. Here's something I thought was worth passing on: We had a soil scientist from UC Berkeley as a guest lecturer the other night. He was talking about compost etc., and he mentioned that one of his classes did a study on those compostable utensils we see all over the place now. I've bought them myself for big events, thinking that if I send them to the municipal compost facility (in my green can), they would break down, and therefore be a better choice than plastic. Well, this class has had them in a hot compost for over two years now, and they still look exactly the same as they did when they put them in there 24 months ago. So much for them being a better option than plastic. Clearly it's still best to use regular silverware and just wash it. 

We're having very chilly nights and clear, sunny days. Last night, I wanted to look at the full moon, so I made a fire in the outdoor pit and sat there for a while. We have barn owls nearby; I've heard them before, and a lot again last night. This is wonderful news!

What's on your weekend gardening schedule? For me, there's more moving of leaves and cutting down a large privet, replacing it with the Arbequina olive trees I've had in containers for the past two years. Also, HOMEWORK. It's finals time! Have a great weekend, everyone.

The Leaf Project

Nearly every winter, I call around to the tree companies, or scour the neighborhood looking for the tree trucks, trying to get a load of free wood chips. Eventually I source them, the guys come in their big truck, and they drop 20 cubic yards of fresh wood chips in our driveway. Then Tom and I spend the next month with the wheelbarrow and shovel, moving all those chips around to the pathways in between our raised beds, and around the perennial plantings that border the gardens. It's always a slog, because it takes so darn long. Blisters abound. We can't park in our driveway for weeks. Often gates are blocked. Honestly, it's always wonderful for the garden (and yeah, ok, for our waistlines), but hard on the middle-aged humans who tend it.

It's necessary though, if I want to keep weeds from germinating all over the place. I've written here before that we don't have a lot of weeds, and we really don't. By that I mean, not much comes in with the wind or the birds. Oh, a stray purslane here (likely brought in on nursery stock), or a wayward willowherb there, but nothing very troublesome. Most of our 'weeds' are simply seeds from our trees. The Catalpa and the Pepper trees are notorious for sprouting all over the place. And the squirrels plant oak trees everywhere. 

And, this year, I brought in organic straw from a local farm to mulch the summer veg, which was great, but there were a LOT of wheat seeds left in it. And now wheat is sprouting up everywhere, all the places I DON'T want it. Like on the paths. Usually a thick layer of fresh wood chips, every winter, keeps everything manageable. 

But - this year I decided to do something different. 

The "North Garden" here at Poppy Corners.

I told you how I've been picking up coffee chaff from the roasters in Emeryville (Highwire Coffee), and they also have tons of burlap and jute bags to give away. So, I brought home about 100 bags and lined every pathway with them (they are completely biodegradable). Then I put out an all-points bulletin in my neighborhood: I wanted leaves. Some folks would call me after their mow-and-blow service came, and I'd go pick up several bags. Some neighbors would fill up their green waste cans, then wheel the can over and I'd dump them in the yard. Some folks needed help raking and sweeping leaves, so I did that too. It took a couple weeks, but I've finally got every square inch of this garden covered. Well, not the raised beds part. Those get green manures, or cover crops, and compost every spring. But the rest of the garden is covered in a nice thick layer of leaves - sycamore, tulip poplar, valley oak, tallow, red maple, liquidambar - I've got a cornucopia of different leaves on every path. Springy and soft, these leaves will slowly break down through the winter, feeding the soil life underground, and providing lots of nutrients to my garden. 

Time will tell how well this leaf layer suppresses weeds, though - I'm already seeing a few stray wheat sprouts come up, sigh.

Forest Bath

I generally don't eat too much on Thanksgiving (even though I very much like food and very much like my mother's oyster stuffing), but at some point I'll take a walk today, just because it seems like the right thing to do. Many of us will do this. Some will charge up a hill, or speed-step around a lake, making sure they've burned enough calories to make up for the later feast. Some will take a full-bellied, slow walk around after the meal, just trying to make enough room in the abdomen to breathe - or maybe room for more pie. Nothing wrong with either of these methods, but I'd like to suggest a little something different this Thanksgiving. How about a forest bath?

Ringtail Cat trail, Las Trampas Regional Wilderness

Have you heard about forest baths? This is a fairly new trend. I recently read about it on the NPR website. There are certified guides who take you on a forest experience. It's not about exercise exactly, though that's a nice side effect; it's about being mindful and in clear awareness of what's going on around you. Letting all of your senses fill with the forest. Looking for the little things, the treasures you often find on a walk - a striped acorn, or a birds-nest mushroom, or a woodpecker pattern in a tree trunk. Listening to the sounds of the forest, hearing a hawk call overhead, or a chickadee in the oak next to you, or the rustle of a lizard near your feet. Smelling the dryness of the leaves, the wet rot underneath, the salt of a coastline, the bark of a Ponderosa pine (vanilla!). Rubbing a smooth stone or a rough leaf with your fingertips.

Oak Harbor, Whidbey Island, Washington

I think it's great that there are certified guides that can take you through this process and remind you to be mindful, but I honestly don't think you need to pay anyone to teach you how to do this. It takes some practice, sure, but that's a task easily set and easily accomplished - just let yourself wander. It can even be on your regular trail. Maybe there's something you've been missing all these years, walking along a well-known path. You could even do this in your neighborhood or in your own yard. 

Wildcat Cove, Samish Bay, Larrabee State Park, Washington

For some folks, today is a very stressful day, filled with family that you might not enjoy talking with, or with whom you have heated arguments. I think this is probably happening more and more in the tense political climate we live in. Well, what better time than now to get out and do some deep breathing? This kind of walking, in a mindful way, is scientifically documented to lower your blood pressure by up to 40 points. Charging up a hill is great for your heart in one way, yes, but it turns out that slowing down and tuning in to your environment is also extremely good for your health. So if you aren't exactly thrilled to go climb a mountain, or you can't get motivated to do that, perhaps it'll be easier to motivate yourself just to get outside and notice things.

a huge Aminita muscaria under an oak tree, in downtown Danville, California

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. I hope you eat lots of lovely food, spend lots of time with your favorite people, and get a chance to wander in nature.