FIELD REPORT FROM THE HERB GARDEN
In the few sunny days we had before another slew of rain slammed down, my sweetheart and I worked out in our various gardens, surrounded by plants and tormented by weeds. We slung away into the “dump it” wheelbarrow the grass that grew anywhere we didn’t want it. I heard the crows broadcasting to each other what we were up to, in case seeds they could purloin later were going to be part of our garden process. Swallows divebombed me because I was working mostly in the herb garden which is in close proximity to their houses, and the bird feeder is located right there. The golden finches, scarlet tanagers, and sparrows must have been salivating in the bushes, starving, because I never saw them.
But I was saving them from death by pruning the evergreen in the middle of the herb garden. I’ve long since forgotten what type it is, if I ever knew. I bought it because it was swirled upward like a Dairy Queen ice cream cone. That lasted only one year because I had no experience sculpting trees. Overestimating my talents, I tried sculpting it myself. The result was sad, indeed. In the ensuing years, I’ve been letting it grow back in hopes it would fill out and look like a real tree. We both tried, the tree and I, but the outcome has been less than we anticipated.
This was the year I had to do SOMETHING. I have noticed all the felines emerging from under the tree with smiles on their faces and feathers in their mouths. The tree provided the perfect hiding place, a little cave next to the trunk up under the bottom branches. There they bided their time until a bird was in the right position, and then, POUNCE!
The first thing I did after my loppers, pruners, and shears visited Mr. Sharpenator, was to sit down on my bucket seat and start eliminating branches, from the bottom up. There were enough feathers in the tree cave to have built a whole nest or two. Thank goodness I was spared seeing birdie skeletons! I raked everything out that had been lodged there. Now for 18 inches up from the ground, all around the tree, is nothing but open space. I like to think the tree likes the air flow now, like when you cut your hair and you feel pounds lighter and can feel the breeze on your neck. The shorn tree can feel the breeze on its trunk.
I stood back and gave it a few more nips and tucks here and there and it looks reasonably the way I envision a tree of its species should look at its age. Its branches aren’t covering up the herbs in the four raised beds around it anymore, so the herbs are happier as well. The lavender doesn’t have to crouch and bend. The oregano doesn’t have to push and shove, then move to new neighborhoods. The herbs can now feel the breeze on their necks as well.
I expect better production from now on. I’ve already clipped and dried the parsley, so the rest of the herbs will have to up their game. The lemon balm and chamomile come next, and the tea leaves need clipped for drying whenever it stops raining long enough. I’ll be making black tea again, with cinnamon, orange peels, and cloves. So yummy! All that’s left to do in the herb garden is to get rid of a bit more uninvited grass, and to plant some herb seeds, both medicinal and cooking herbs, in the beds and pots.
The crows will get excited again seeing me out working, but I will foil their intentions this year, just as I did the felines, with preventative measures–white cloth covers pinned down over the top of the herb seeds I plant–until they are toddlers or maybe even teenagers.
Once the sun comes back in a long stretch, we’ll install the fountain in front of the tree so we can view it from the kitchen window, and the herb garden will be complete, with something beautiful and/or scented blooming there all summer long.