a man and his hoe

every day is a good day

Category: How Things Grow

  • Hints of Summer


    There are hints of summer in the air. The kale has gone to bloom, sending sprays of yellow flowers higher than I am. Their stalks are tender and sweet. All it takes is five seconds or so in simmering hot water to turn them into a feast.


    The ducks are grateful for the hours I’m spending weeding the garden beds. They waddle away, their bellies full of earthworms and bugs. What all they are eating, I don’t know. They seem to see tiny insects I can’t see. Anything that moves they gobble down.


    What’s left from weeding are rows of green, which will turn into soil by summer’s end. Much of it is buttercup. I was aghast yesterday when I saw an article of some plant breeder in England showing off a new variety of buttercup. People breed these things? Buttercups are hellbent on world domination. Left alone, they and the blackberries would smother all other living things.

    As much as I lament buttercup, it is a wonder plant. I notice that the creatures in the soil love it. Amongst its many roots, earthworms and soil creatures thrive. On my knees, using a small, sharp hoe, it actually digs up rather easily. Have the right tool, and any job is a piece of cake. The rich biology buttercup nourishes with its roots makes for soft, fertile garden beds, so even though it takes hours of toil to rip it out of the garden beds, it does leave behind a good bed for planting vegetables.

  • First Potato Celebration


    I celebrate the sighting of the first potato sprout. Yes, this will be a good year, comes to mind when I see new potato leaves. They are a sign that it is time to start gardening in earnest.


    A lot of things are in full bloom by the time the first potato leaves poke above the spring earth. Elderberries with their space-age white odd spiky flowers.


    Before they turn their salmon colors, salmon berries are green. Even ripe, they can have a bitter bite. Eaten at this stage, they might make you cry.


    The trilliums are carpeting the forest floor with their big, green leaves. Most of the trilliums here are white, so the pink ones are always a surprise.



    I never know what awaits me in the coop. A hen trying to tell me she laid a dozen eggs. Three hens crowded into two nests, one on top of the other. It’s impossible to be bored.

  • The Great Unfolding


    The great unfolding is underway. New leaves, flowers of all colors, slowly unfolding, stretching, breathing, transforming the woodlands with every stretch. We could call Spring The Unfolding. Another word that comes to mind is Bird Song. From now into June you can’t step outside but hear the birds singing their love songs. By midsummer, the birds quiet down, their baby-making done, their children out the nest.







    Unfolding rhubarb leaves with their crimson hue, you know, if you go live on Mars, you’ll never see such a sight. Among all the vegetable seeds future explorations to Mars will pack for their voyage and Martian colony, I don’t think rhubarb seeds will be on the list.

    I can’t see myself traveling six months to a year in a capsule barely large enough to stand in, only to be trapped on a dusty planet, never to witness the spectacle of Unfolding or sit in the woods, eyes closed, enjoying Bird Song. How sad that would be. I’ll stick to earth and lie in the woods in the spring, watching the leaves unfold, and listening to the birds singing. I can close my eyes and dream of Martian adventures, and when I open my eyes, I can breathe in the freshness of new life.


  • Tea and Biscuits, Anyone?


    Asian pears are in full bloom. Their white flowers are little white cups. Out by the pond, hens like taking a break on the bench. At times many more than three crowd onto the bench to gossip. Maybe I should be taking them tea and biscuits.


  • All On Their Own


    The latest brood of chicks is on their own. Last night was their first night on their own. This morning they woke up without their mother. Sometimes, independence is a traumatic experience for chicks. This bunch is taking it all in stride.




    The Rainier cherries are about to bloom. With so many bees buzzing about this year, the cherries should be plentiful.




    Each day, there are more petals dropping from the trees. At times today’s gusts looked blizzard like with blowing cherry blossom petals. The remaining blossoms glow in the evening sun. Last year, the sun never seemed to be out when the cherry trees were in bloom. This year, they are breathtaking.