dark furrow
a quiet almanac of soil and sky
evening, the twentieth of may
late spring
the frost is gone or nearly gone.
everything is rushing now. the green is loud.
the frogs resume theirevening argument likeold familiar friends
sky
long golden light. warm enough to sit outside and do nothing.
- waxing crescent, 24% lit
- sunrise 6:06 am · sunset 8:17 pm
- 14h 12m of daylight (+1.4 minutes from yesterday)
- civil dusk 8:46 pm · sailor's dark 9:21 pm · true dark 10:00 pm
the moon is waxing. plant leafy things: lettuce, spinach, cabbage, herbs that grow above ground. the light is growing and pulls the energy upward.
virgo follows behind with spica, a pale blue star low in the southeast
the blackberry winter. a cold snap that comes after the warmth has settled in, just when the blackberries are blooming. it feels like a betrayal but the old farmers expected it. they did not plant the tender things until it passed.
garden
in the ground now
- corn in blocks, not rows, so the wind can do its work
- tomatoes go out after the last frost, finally
- basil near the tomatoes, old companions
- beans, pole and bush, direct into warm soil
this week
- check irrigation lines or soaker hoses. fix leaks before the dry heat arrives.
- weed weekly. if you stay on top of it now, summer is easier.
good neighbors
- corn, beans, and squash together, the three sisters, each one giving what the others need
- nasturtium at the foot of the cucumbers, the aphids prefer it and leave the rest alone
- summer savory beside the bush beans, it troubles the bean beetle and asks for no room
bad neighbors
- fennel near anything you mean to harvest, it sours the soil for company
- cucumbers in the smell of sage, the cucumber will not thrive where the herb is strong
- potatoes near the tomatoes invites blight to both
kitchen
in season
- radishes sliced thin with butter on good bread
- asparagus while it lasts, roasted simply with oil and salt
- fresh peas eaten standing in the garden, never enough make it inside
- the first herbs cut and scattered over everything
tonight
- strawberries, finally, warm from the sun
putting up
- rhubarb keeps every way you ask of it. jam, chutney, sliced and frozen for winter pie.
- spring peas blanch two minutes, then ice down, then freeze flat. they hold a year.
foraging
- plantain leaf, the broad one in every yard. a poultice for stings and cuts.
- wild strawberries, tiny and impossibly sweet, in sunny edges and old fields.
- mulberries start ripening on the trees nobody planted. look up.
- elderflowers, the creamy flat clusters. dry them for tea or steep in vinegar.
the woods and edges are full. walk slowly and look at what grows where nobody tends it. that is what belongs here.
folklore
the flower moon, for obvious reasons. the planting moon. the milk moon. the old english called may thrimilce, the month the cows could be milked three times a day. everything is producing.
elderflower tea, steeped fresh or dried. cooling, good for early seasonal sniffles. late spring remedies lean toward calming and cooling. everything is growing and so is the urge to overdo it. slow down.
japanese beetle grubs are becoming japanese beetles. pick them off by hand into soapy water.