I needed 25 square feet of sod to patch a place in the backyard where we had a sandbox for the grandkids when they were younger. The sandbox hadn’t gotten much action in the past year, so I tore it out, spread out the sand where the yard needed some leveling, and tossed out the wood from the box and lid.
I was certain that our Home Depot got a delivery of sod every Saturday morning, so I had no doubt I could pick up some nice pieces of grass. I was so wrong.
When I arrived, there were hardly any pieces under the big “Sod” sign. A woman driving a red Jeep Gladiator was picking through some pieces, rejecting most and having a Home Depot guy put some in her truck.
I carefully surveyed the scene. I saw enough sod for my project. I only needed twelve pieces, so I went to the cashier for my purchase. I said, “I thought you got new sod on Saturdays.”
He replied, “No, the truck comes every Tuesday and Thursday.”
“No problem. I saw enough out there. I need twelve pieces.” He rung up my sale and I pulled my van around to the pile of picked over sod.
The remaining sod was a little yellow around the edges, a bit dry, and broken apart. But I found twelve acceptable pieces to load up. When I got to the last piece, another man stepped up, looked at me and said, “That’s all there is?”
I said, “Yep. I just need one more piece, and the rest is yours.” He shook his head as he looked over the pile of dirt and pieces of grass. “I suggested, “You might want to try Lowes.”
He said, “I was just there. I guess I’ll have to come back.”
Back home, I carried my below average sod through the gate into the back yard and covered up the sandbox footprint. I watered it well and said, “Good luck.”
Much to my delight, thunderstorms drenched our neighborhood the past two afternoons. Nothing waters the yard better than rain from above. I have a good feeling about that below average sod. Just wait until the sun hits it and it starts to grow. It will feel right at home.
Night was just about ready to give way to the dawn. It was just light enough for a yard full of purple flowers to catch my eye. I and the dogs walk by here several times a week. It’s like they appeared overnight. Some kind of daffodil? A wildflower?
Google identified them as Zephyranthes, sometimes called a Zephyrlily or Rain Lily. It’s a bulb that thrives in subtropical climates like ours. They tend to appear after a rain shower.
The thing I found interesting is that this wasn’t a garden. It’s a front yard. These bulbs were planted, propagated, and sprung up through the lawn. Okay, so that lawn wasn’t that great. But the flowers were!
My dad had lots of flowering bulbs in his gardens. The crocuses would show up first, sometimes while there was still a little snow on the ground in the early spring. Tulips and hyacinths would follow, filling the front yard gardens with bright colors. But only for a week or two. Then they disappeared till the following spring.
That was up north. Garden life is different in Florida. The only flowers from bulbs I’ve seen here are amaryllis. But now I’ve seen the rain lilies. I would love to have a whole bunch of them sprout up overnight!
After trying several varieties, I’ve had the most success growing cherry tomatoes in my raised gardens. Five vines filled the chicken wire cages I built to keep the squirrels out and produced dozens of cherry tomatoes.
Since those gardens were on the side of the house, they received enough shade to survive a Florida summer. I was still harvesting tomatoes well into October from a March planting. I was going to buy and plant new ones in the fall for the second growing season. Instead, I cut off some of the fullest branches, stripped leaves from the bottom half, and replanted them in the soil. They took root and grew beyond the confines of the cage itself. In mid-December, the vines were covered with small green tomatoes. On January 1, I harvested a nice crop for our first salads of the new year.
Unless we happen to get a freeze, I’m looking forward to many more.
I’m thrilled with my winter tomatoes for several reasons. First, it’s hard to find good tomatoes any time of the year in Florida. The ones in the store are some kind of coral color without much taste. These were red, ripe, and delicious,
Second, I didn’t have to buy these plants. I was able to start new vines from cuttings. So they were free. Kind of.
Third, picking tomatoes in January is like thumbing your nose at winter. I know, we don’t really get winter in Florida. But when the temps drop into the thirties, unpleasant memories of bitterly cold winters resurface. All I have to do is pop a tomato in my mouth, and all that goes away.
Wait a minute. That’s not a shadow. It’s moving on it’s own. That’s a slither. It’s a snake. A black snake silently glided through the garden mulch into the woods next door.
“Hey, if you’re here to eat mice or rats, come back any time.”
Yeah, I talk to animals sometimes. I whistle at the birds. My dog patiently listens to my random thoughts as we walk. Why not talk to the snake? My neighbor caught a bunch of mice in his attic. Rats have gnawed at spots on my wooden fence. Maybe he can help me out.
A few days later, he was back. Wait a minute. Do two of them? Two three-foot black snakes. I guess he thought it was OK to bring a friend.
Within a week, the news spread. I counted five of them. They didn’t even crawl away when I opened the garage door. “Hey, I didn’t say you could bring all your family and friends. Get out of here! My wife is going to freak out.”
This is creepy. Ok, so there aren’t any mice in the area. But my yard is not a snake sanctuary. They have to go.
Is that a hawk perched in the pine tree. I chuckled, “Hey, can I interest you in some snakes?”
They weren’t dead after all. I got down on my knees, dug through the mulch and saw a little bit of green. There is still some life here!
The winter in northeast Florida had just enough freezing days to knock the life out of a lot of my yard plants. I thought I lost my hibiscus and crotons. They were nothing but brown sticks standing around the house. I needed to replace them.
I was not prepared for the high prices at the big box garden center. Inflation is alive and well. Nine dollars for a bag of dirt? Five dollars for a blooming quart sized annual? Six dollars for a pepper plant? Nine bucks for a croton? That was the small size. A big one will set you back $16.
I went back home to rethink my garden strategy. I went back out to the front yard and looked at the sticks in the ground. Being a glass half full kind of guy, I got up close and personal with them to see if there was any sign of life at all. And there was. Little tender green shoots were just beginning to reach up from the base of the sticks. I pulled back the mulch to give them better access to sunlight. I poured on some water and a little liquid fertilizer. I think they’re going to make it!
I’m going to start a lot of my own plants from seeds now too. I did a little research and it’s not hard to propagate crotons or just about any other plant. Remember putting a seed in a cup of dirt in kindergarten to grow a flower for mom? There’s another early education lesson that pays off later in life.
A lot of my neighbors don’t even try. I don’t see many colors in their yards when I go for a walk. Just green and brown. I’m not going to be that guy. I’ve got my sights set on the whole rainbow.
It’s Holy Week. I’m not preaching this year, but my garden is. The Creator cleverly embedded the message of resurrection in his creation. Nice job, God!
As wandered through the garden shop’s aisles of colorful and more expensive than ever pots of annuals, I decided, “I’m going to plant some seeds this year.” I had just finished cleaning up my backyard gardens which were now, other than the amaryllis, devoid of color. Having seen the beautifully landscaped entrances to gated-communities near me, I visualized now nice my garden would look in just a few weeks.
The seed display is off in the corner, behind the patio furniture. This store stocks two brands, and each brand offers regular and organic packets of vegetable and flower seeds. Other than price, I doubt there is much difference between organic and non-organic seeds. I’ll look that up later.
I’ve researched what flowers will grow best in my area, so I am armed with a list. The pictures on each packet explode with color. I underestimated just how amazing my garden will look!
I find zinnias, marigolds, and cosmos, but none of the others on my list. I know, I should have just shopped online. But then I’d miss the sights and smells that get my gardening juices flowing. I do find a couple of colorful flower mixes. I’ll give those a try.
Back home, I’m ready to plant. I carefully open the first packed of zinnia seeds. Wow, you don’t get very many seeds in a packet. They’re tiny, too. I carefully pour some into the palm of my hand. Don’t sneeze, or they’ll be gone. Picking up a few between thumb and forefinger, I drop them along a line I’ve drawn in the soil with a trowel. I can’t even see where they’ve landed. Before I know it, they’re gone. Trusting that they have found a home, I gently cover them with a 1/4-inch layer of dirt. That’s not very much, but that’s what the instructions call for. I do this with all my purchased seeds. They didn’t go very far. I will have to buy more for other areas in the garden.
I grab my watering can and moisten all the areas I’ve planted. And that’s it. Done. And what do I have to show for all my efforts? Nothing. My garden looks exactly the same as when I started. Dirt. I know, it takes a few days for the seeds to germinate and weeks before I’ll see any flowers.
The whole process is a simple yet powerful act of faith. Faith that the seed will actually grow. Faith that the plants will actually produce flowers. Faith that color will explode from that little black speck that disappeared into the ground.
It’s a miracle. A lifeless seed comes to life with some soil, sun, and water. And I get to watch that miracle happen.
They are sneaky. You forget all about them for most of the year. Then suddenly, one day, BAM! There they are. The amaryllis.
I didn’t even notice as the plants began poking their heads through the pine needles and bark much. Even when they were a foot tall, they blended in with stalks of hibiscus and other plants that had died when the temperature dipped below freezing for a few days. The perfect disguise.
One afternoon, walking through the backyard, a tiny glimpse of red caught my eye. I couldn’t ignore them any longer. They had blown their cover. They weren’t coming; they were here.
The next day it looked like someone had run through the garden with leaking buckets of bright red paint. Flames shot out in every direction from the stems. The colors shouted from the brownish-gray backdrop, “It’s spring!”
The brilliant hues make me laugh out loud. I can’t contain the joy inspired by sudden spring color. I have to stop and look and look and look again. They are beautiful.
The red ones are the first wave. The big pink ones won’t be far behind. And then – the lilies!
That’s all it takes. That’s all my five-year old grandson needs to hear, and he’s all in.
Our first project involved a couple of Blue Daze plants which always do great in our garden soil. He wanted to plant blue flowers, which aren’t that common. Even these are a bit on the purple side, which he pointed out to me. He carried the two quart containers out back, while I brought the shovel, some branch trimmers (I knew we’d encounter lots of roots at the base of the pine trees), and a watering can.
He dug the holes as I lopped off some uncooperative roots. I showed him how to take the plant from the pot and shake out the roots a little bit and place the plant in its new home. He filled in the dirt and started to work on the second hole. After we were done, he gave both plants a nice long drink in their new home. Each time he comes over the house, I always remind him to water his flowers.
Our second project involved part of an old whiskey barrel my wife wanted in the corner of the patio, a few bags of potting soil and a twelve-pack of impatiens with orange flowers. The impatiens were a variety I hadn’t seen before, suitable for both shade or sun (according to the label.). I found a few old landscape bricks to take up space in the barrel, and then added the soil. Now the fun part. I pulled back a small hole with my trowel as he stuck each plant in it’s place and covered up the roots with dirt. Once again, we treated our new guests to a tall cool drink.
One of my go to places to relax or destress is the garden. Soil, plants and water are cheap therapy when you’ve got a lot of stuff on your mind. The sun, the breeze and a little dirt under the fingernails always take my mind off my worries.
I think my dad taught me most of what I know about gardening. My dad always had amazing gardens. Front yard beds full of crocuses, tulips and hyacinth in the spring were followed by azaleas and roses as summer approached. Dad’s beds were immaculate, too. No weeds, cultivated soil and gorgeous blooms were the rule in front of our house. The vegetable gardens were out back. Lettuce and spinach first, followed by peas and beans, and then carrots, kohlrabi, peppers and bushels of tomatoes by the end of the summer. His carefully composted rows of vegetables produced much of what we saw on the table throughout the year. I didn’t realize it at the time, but this help keep our family fed during my growing up years.
The gardening gene must be dominant. When we arrived at our first call in Coventry, CT, we planted a garden. And what a garden! Our parsonage was on the four acres next to the church’s four acres. I borrowed a rototiller and broke up a 20′ x 40′ area of the backyard for our garden. If someone tells you that New England soil is rocky, they are understating the conditions. I think we found more rocks that soil! Forget the spade. You need a spading fork. We got it done and planted corn, sunflowers, several varieties of beans (including some that were purple!), peas, carrots, lettuce, spinach, tomatoes and melons. There were also some asparagus beds in place.
My harvests had mixed results. We got some sweet corn, but many ears didn’t properly develop. Some kind of bug ate a lot of the sunflower seeds. The cantaloupe never got bigger than a softball. We had lots and lots of peas and beans, though. Do you know that purple beans will turn green when you boil them? I’d say our attempts were average. We ate a lot of peas right off the vine and had plenty of beans.
We had a garden at our second call in Iowa. Our backyard in West Des Moines had rhubarb. It didn’t matter how cold the winter or how hot and dry the summer, we had huge rhubarb plants. No gardening talent needed there. My wife made some amazing rhubarb and rhubarb-strawberry pies. The soil produced some amazing zucchini, too. We made lots and lots and lots of zucchini bread. Our best gardening project, though, were strawberries. I bought a whole bunch of plants for our backyard, carefully mulching each one. In year two, we began to see some nice strawberries begin to form. That’s exactly when I got the call to Florida. We never got to see how that harvest looked.
Florida gardening? Totally different than up north. After much trial and error, my philosophy is this: plant native and plant what grows in your yard. My soil is crazy sandy, the growing seasons are weird, and plants take over your yard when you aren’t watching. Winter freezes are few and far between. Hurricanes blow in weeds you never expected to find. Plants you gave up on sometimes grow back. Plants that look great in the yard across the street die in mine. Go figure.
When I put my hands in the dirt, I leave something behind and I take something with me. Along with seeds, fertilizer and water, the garden always seems to have room for worries and frustrations. It return it gives peace and serenity along with blossoms and fruit.
Thus, the allure of a shovel, soil and a watering can endures. I can still care for our little piece of dirt, planting and watering and watching things grow. I can still eat the fruits of our labor, share them with others and enjoy the colors of creation.Maybe that’s why gardening is so appealing and amazing. It brings me close to the Creator, reminds me of His creation, and gives me a chance to share that with a new generation. When I’m close to Him, I discover a peace that surpasses my understanding.
About six months ago, a friend gave me about 18 bromeliads from his yard. They propagate well in Florida, so he had to thin out his beds. I planted them in a few different places around my yard. They took root and began to propagate, but all I got was greenery. Until today, when all of a sudden one caught my eye as I passed by with the lawnmower. I didn’t know what to expect. They’re beautiful!
Waite for it... 