Hügelkultur: Word of The Day

It’s time to prepare the garden for spring vegetables. Every year I attempt to win the battle with rodents and bugs and lack of sky water; sometimes I win, sometimes they do…

I have a couple new ideas. I purchased coconut coir bricks to rehydrate and mix with the existing soil in my raised bed and I thought I’d try cardboard box planters, too, inside the raised bed.

Maybe one day I’ll be able to build my own Hügelkultur.

“Hügelkultur” (pronounced hyoo-gul-kulture) is a German word that means mound culture or hill culture. A hügelkultur is a sloped and raised planting bed filled with topsoil, wood, and organic materials. Germans and Europeans have practiced it as a gardening method for hundreds of years.

Instead of gathering branches, leaves and grass clippings for yard waste trash pickup or to toss in the compost, build a hugel bed. Mound logs, branches, leaves, grass clippings, straw, cardboard, petroleum-free newspaper, manure, compost, or whatever other biomass you have available, top with soil and plant your veggies.

The advantages of a hugel bed are many, including:

The gradual decay of wood is a consistent source of long-term nutrients for the plants. A large bed might give out a constant supply of nutrients for decades. The composting wood also generates heat which might extend the growing season.

Logs and branches act like a sponge. Rainwater is stored and then released during drier times. Actually you may never need to water your hugel bed again after the first year (except during long term droughts).

We had a bit of rain yesterday which is a perfect opportunity to prep the coconut coir and plant seeds. I’ll start with my favorites: mixed greens, tomatoes, beets, chard and kale, cucumbers, snap peas, beans, peppers, and zucchini (of course).

There’s nothing more adorable than watching the first little sprouts emerge, right? I can’t wait!

Hügelkultur image credit to https://www.hugelkultur.com.au/intro-hugelkultur/
Photo credit to Enchanted Seashells

Dawn’s Beauty

Up at dawn, the dewy freshness of the hour,
the morning rapture of the birds,
the daily miracle of sunrise, set her heart in tune,

and gave her Nature’s most healing balm.
~ Louisa May Alcott

Because of all the rain we’ve had, spring blossoms in the garden are exceptionally lush. My Cup of Gold vine (Solandra guttata/Solandra maxima) is bursting with flowers and this gigantic dinner-plate sized golden chalice looked right at me as if to say “good morning.”

What a spectacular way to greet the day!

Surveying a Joyful Garden

Beauty is everywhere a welcome guest.” – Goethe

Sometimes we don’t notice the beauty we’re surrounded with until we look with fresh eyes.

I was focused on a major cleanup project in the garden when I finally took a breath and looked up. It was only then that I noticed being surrounded with the joy of color. Everywhere I turned, I was greeted with the wonder of nature.

Blooming calendula…

Felicia amelloides variegata: ‘Variegated Marguerite Blue Daisy’…

“Let us come alive to the splendor that is all around us and see the beauty in ordinary things.” — Thomas Merton

 Yellow Marguerite Daisy…

…and prolific white daisy groundcover…

There’s so much to be grateful for!

Acacia in bloom…

“Piglet noticed that even though he had a Very Small Heart, it could hold a rather large amount of Gratitude.” — A.A. Milne

You’re totally right, Piglet!

All photo credit to Enchanted Seashells

What’s Growing in the Garden

Mushrooms!

This is an indication of how much rain we’ve had in Southern California and just how soggy the garden is…and more rain is on the way.

Unidentified fungi appeared in the crevice of a split ficus trunk that was cut down a couple years ago because the roots were starting to come too close to the foundation.

I wanted to keep the stump instead of grinding it because I thought it was architecturally beautiful and now it’s decomposing exactly like I hoped it would.

These mushrooms are definitely not edible, right? They’re most likely poisonous and I’m certainly not going to find out one way or another. I’m not THAT curious or adventurous. Or dumb.

A day later, here’s how they morphed and darkened, plus it’s raining:

Fascinating!

I found a poem by Emily Dickinson about mushrooms…

The Mushroom is the Elf of Plants

The Mushroom is the Elf of Plants –
At Evening, it is not
At Morning, in a Truffled Hut
It stop opon a Spot

As if it tarried always
And yet it’s whole Career
Is shorter than a Snake’s Delay –
And fleeter than a Tare –

’Tis Vegetation’s Juggler –
The Germ of Alibi –
Doth like a Bubble antedate
And like a Bubble, hie –

I feel as if the Grass was pleased
To have it intermit –
This surreptitious Scion
Of Summer’s circumspect.

Had Nature any supple Face
Or could she one contemn –
Had Nature an Apostate –
That Mushroom – it is Him!

My Soul Mate is a Monster

Sorry for the typo.

I meant to say my Giant Monstera is my soulmate. I certainly should have done a better job of proofreading…my bad.

This guy is the cause of my freak injury. I know I should hate him for it, but he’s so beautiful, especially when backlit by the sun.

I can’t help but love the source of my trauma, my pain.

You can’t really see it in this photo, but the reason why I raced down the stairs in slippery socks (and fell HARD) was to get the Amazon package that contained the moss poles to help my BFF climb to new heights.

When we first met (at Trader Joe’s) and fell in love, he whispered to me that a little support would make him happy. Since I love to oblige, it was an easy request to grant, however, this proclivity of mine set the stage for me to become irrevocably injured.

Deep wounds take a long time to heal, but my love for this Giant Monstera will last forever. Pretty soon I’ll need taller poles and more support because he’s growing and thriving under my care.

Love hurts, but isn’t he gorgeous? My monster(a), my soulmate.

Update on my injury: Stitches came out yesterday (after two weeks) but were replaced by a dozen Steri-strips to help the eight-inch gash finish healing, which it is,  but at a snail's pace, probably because I'm not a very patient patient. I'm a much better caregiver. The recommendation was no strenuous activity for at least two more weeks or it'll open up again and I'll need more stitches and the doc threatened me with an aircast to immobilize my leg. "Threatened" might be a SLIGHT exaggeration, but that's how I interpreted her words...

Forget-Me-Not

I was at a free expo a couple months ago and grabbled a package of forget-me-not seeds. I tossed them in a planter and forgot about them until today.

This is their first flowering!

Forget-me-nots symbolize true love, fidelity, and respect. It’s also associated with Alzheimer’s disease, and has (weirdly) been adopted as a symbol by the Freemasons.

Germans coined the most common name used for this flower, das Vergissmeinnicht, because of the myth of two lovers who first saw the bright blue flowers as they walked along the Danube River. The man retrieved the flowers for the woman but was swept away by the river. As he floated away, he told her not to forget him.

Whether the story is true or not, it’s certainly made the forget-me-not a lasting symbol of remembrance.

Myosotis sylvatica readily reseeds, so I’m hoping to grow more and more in the garden because the blue is so valiantly BLUE and truly unforgettable.

Dreamy White Christmas

I’ve always had red and pink zygocacti, and for some reason, mine bud and bloom several times a year, whether they’re labeled Thanksgiving/Christmas/Easter cactus.

I’ve been seeing other, amazing colors of these flowering succulents. I couldn’t resist this white Schlumbergera that I found at Trader Joe’s for about five dollars. This is her very first flower. Check out the magenta stamen. It’s absolutely stunning. The Chanel-inspired pot was a Daiso treasure.

I’m in LOVE. I can’t wait until all the other buds open.

Do you see that double bud? It’s ridiculously easy to make me happy.

Elusive Butterfly of Love

I spent the day in the gardens, front and back. Neighbors dropped by to chat and comment on our beautiful weather in anticipation of much needed rain.

One neighbor recently got a sweet Golden Retriever that spent too many years at a disgusting Amish puppy mill and is now living her best life. A few minutes later, a young couple walked by with a newborn, their first. Kids rode by on their bikes and e-bikes on their way to play tennis at the park.

It was a wonderful, happy, Southern California kind of day, and I got a lot of work done, filling up three yard waste cans.

Even the butterflies seemed to be more active than usual, perhaps trying to sip as much nectar as possible before the rain or a southerly migration. I tried to snap some pics but they absolutely wouldn’t stay still long enough!

It made me think of that really old song, Elusive Butterfly. It’s beautiful, sad, poignant, even melancholy, but there I was, chasing that elusive butterfly — I could so relate.

Imagine how happy I was to learn that my fave Leon Russell played piano on this song, along with Henry Diltz (Banjo), Carol Kaye (Bass), and Hal Blaine (Drums). I had no idea!

Here’s previous butterfly photos, and these guys knew how to properly model.

I’m still obsessed with the lyrics of Elusive Butterfly

You might wake up some mornin’
To the sound of something moving past your window in the wind
And if you’re quick enough to rise
You’ll catch a fleeting glimpse of someone’s fading shadow
Out on the new horizon
You may see the floating motion of a distant pair of wings
And if the sleep has left your ears
You might hear footsteps running through an open meadow

Don’t be concerned, it will not harm you
It’s only me pursuing somethin’ I’m not sure of
Across my dreams with nets of wonder
I chase the bright elusive butterfly of love

You might have heard my footsteps
Echo softly in the distance through the canyons of your mind
I might have even called your name
As I ran searching after something to believe in
You might have seen me runnin’
Through the long-abandoned ruins of the dreams you left behind
If you remember something there
That glided past you followed close by heavy breathin’

Don’t be concerned, it will not harm you
It’s only me pursuing somethin’ I’m not sure of
Across my dreams with nets of wonder
I chase the bright elusive butterfly of love

Across my dreams with nets of wonder
I chase the bright elusive butterfly of love

Small But Colorful

No, I’m not narcissistically describing ME, lol, but this little Thanksgiving cactus (zygocactus) with its dazzling, almost glowing, salmon pink showy blooms, is all dressed up to become the centerpiece at dinner.

Up close.

Pink Symmetry

This is the first bloom from my Marie Bracey camellia japonica. Dozens of buds formed, but this symmetrical, ruffled, peony-like beauty is the first that’s fully open.

The camellia is a flowering evergreen shrub with dark, glossy leaves and large, lush blossoms that appear and bloom for several weeks during the fall through early spring period in warmer regions. 

Camellias represent a spirit of depth, self-reflection, and inner strength. This plant will need all of those traits to survive a mostly drought environment.

Camellias also symbolize perfection and excellence due to their symmetry. Soon, I’ll have to plant it in the ground, but for this initial blooming season, I’m going to leave it right where it is, at the front door.