[From 15-Jun-2026] There’s definitely a kind of cheerful dark humor in the relentlessness of it all. When you settle in and observe, the calm and peaceful veggie garden is in a constant push-and-pull of competition and ways to get what they want. Everything’s hungrily chomping, from microorganisms in the soil, all the way to the deer who are hopefully getting zapped by the electric fence (it keeps them on their toes!). Weeds and crops sneak their solar panels to the front, trying to hoard light. The plants, the animals, the powdery mildew, you name it, they all just want to eat and grow, and they have no problem clearing each other out of their way. Wow! But maybe it’s not a battle royale, it’s a wondrously vast, seamless balancing act that can’t be properly described with words. Relax. Don’t overthink. Enjoy the invasive box elder, brutally cut back a couple of weeks ago, regrouped and now trying to eat the work table. Once again.
Spring
Birds 2 – Beans 1
The first small bed of green beans was coming up fine—then I lapsed for a moment, and the beans were mercilessly attacked. So it goes in the rough-and-tumble world of the country veggie garden. I suspect birds. Can’t be sure but I’m pretty sure. I’ve seen them in action before. The ragged tops of the stems seem to point to pecking action, not the clean angled slice of creatures with teeth.
Instead of seed leaves, beans emerge with the actual bean split in two right on top of the stem, like an irresistible treat on a stick. Not sure what sort of garden raider survival strategy that represents. I usually put out anti-bird measures: inflatable scare balls or aluminum pie plates suspended on string. Or toss on some row cover—the duct tape of the garden—until a few leaves develop.
Here I didn’t act as soon as I saw the first signs of emerging beans. Also, I’m not used to hand-seeding and probably got a little too precise and seed-saving. With a seeder, plenty of seed drops, so there’s room for thinning, even by birds. Unforced human errors!
Anyhow, there are still enough plants for a decent first harvest, and a bigger bed is seeded and underway, with pie plates heading to the field. Bonus quarter point for the beans—you can see a tiny new leaf on one of the bare stems as it goes for a comeback!
The puddle returns!
After a pretty impressive inch and a half (3.75 cm) of overnight rain, my water table indicator puddle is back. Not usual this far into June, but there has been a lot of falling water recently. You can see the water in the tamped down route of my path to the veg field, but it also extends into the grass on both sides. A mini-Everglades. If the veggies were planted right here, it would be a problem: plants breathe through their roots, so they’d be spluttering for air, in danger of drowning! Luckily, the veg patch starts not far off, but up a gentle slope, so, pretty much high and drier. With the clouds and rain of this May extending into June, and a few days of a heat wave-ish break, the weather pattern of the last 20 years holds true—there is no pattern!
Pot experiment update #2b
Here it is, the final phase of the tomato pot size experiment: side by side and in the ground. It’s a little hard to compare, so far apart and in this weird semi-overcast sunlight. The deep pot toms across the way went in late yesterday, and the plug sheet seedlings, up close, were transplanted 10 days ago. It’s a bit of an odd match-up for an experiment, but this was all an afterthought. The plugs have a big headstart in getting fully rooted, while the potted toms are starting in pretty much twice as big, with a lot more root mass. And they’re off…!
Plants just wanna have sun
These winter squash are looking a little pale and thin, with those deprived-looking almost lime green leaves. No wonder, to go along with all the rain, most of the last few days have been cloudy. The garden veg really aren’t demanding. All they want is decently fertile soil—composted cow manure and a handful of alfalfa pellets will handle that—ample water, warm but not searing temperatures, and sun. Also, not being devoured by animals, insects or disease, or smashed to tatters by golf ball-sized hail, of course. This season so far, all conditions met. Except for the sun. The forecast continues cloudy with chance of rain for the next week. If that holds up, no rich, deep green leaves and satisfyingly sudden growth spurts for a while.
Quick storms and rainbows
Seems to be a little weather pattern repeating over the last few weeks: ominous darkness rolls in with gusting wind, a short, sharp storm with lighting but usually no thunder, half an inch to an inch of rain drops in just a few minutes, then the sun suddenly pops up and…a rainbow. Quite the little show. There’ve been several storms like that recently, and although this is only the second rainbow I’ve seen, I wouldn’t rule out others I missed. This one was a full arc, treeline to treeline. Didn’t have a wide enough lens or enough backing up room to get it all on digital film. Overall, the rain is welcome, even if not the slow and soaking in kind, and the pretty massive rainbow was cool, good for letting your sci-fi imagination wander for a few minutes!
Mud on the leaves
[From yesterday] Unless someone went wild with a hose, mud on the leaves is a sure sign of heavy, pelting rain. It came down this afternoon while I was on a supply run to town, hidden away in a giant box store, completely disconnected from big weather events (that is, until the power went out, which was its own little adventure in a dimly lit cavern). Back in the field, taking stock, the veggie plot was nicely watered in, the rain gauge read a decent half inch (1.25 cm), and no plant problems, just mud-splatter.
These potato plants do a good job of illustrating the ability of pounding rain to throw up a startling amount of dirt. Still, it’s really only of particular veg garden interest if you have to harvest in quantity. Grabbing some salad greens for dinner, a quick mud rinse and into the salad spinner, no problem. On the other hand, harvesting quantities of lettuce, baby salad greens, beets, radish, and carrots with tops, anything with leaves low to the ground right after a deluge becomes instant extra rinsing work. Which adds up! Of course, rain is manna from heaven for growing stuff. We can’t ever wish rain away, at least not around here (well, not most years). Harvest mud is just one of those things to take in stride…