Monday, November 12, 2012

Scenes from a Fall Garden

Gulf fritillary on violas, November 2012
At Christmas I no more desire a rose
Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled shows;
But like of each thing that in season grows.

(Shakespeare, Love's Labours Lost, 1.1)

Here in southeast Louisiana, the seasons overlap, with flowers of the summer blooming into the fall. A couple of weeks ago, I transplanted pansies, violas, and snapdragons into a flower bed that also has second-generation zinnias blooming in it, zinnias that re-seeded and sprouted from my summer bounty of flowers. These zinnias are short, their stunted growth having responded to the shorter day length, and surely the first frost will rebuke their green impudence.

This summer, I transplanted baby aloe vera plants from a large aloe vera that I have growing in a pot (several generations removed from the original plants that I dug up from the yard of a great-aunt several years ago). I am interested in seeing how well they can survive a southeast Louisiana winter--though, given enough warning, I will probably try to protect them from freezing temperatures.

Bumblebee almost comatose on my basil, November 2012
Yesterday, before a cold front blew into the area, the backyard was full of pollinators, especially gulf fritillaries, which seemed to like the violas almost as much as the zinnias, though the still-blooming red salvia remained their favorite. The strangest sight we've seen in our garden is that of huge bumblebees clinging to basil flowers on chilly days, waiting for the weather to warm. Today, with highs in the low 60s, I found three bumblebees tightly holding onto the Genovese basil blossoms, impervious to my poking and prodding among the leaves as I photographed them. They moved their antenna but little else. The smaller honeybees, though, were busily flying around the blooms, gathering pollen. The cooler temperatures do not seem to affect them as much. Or, perhaps, these bumblebees are nearing the end of their natural life (usually, only the queen survives the winter by hibernating), and the scents of the garden are providing some kind of bumblebee comfort here at the end. 

The tomatoes we planted as an experiment in fall-growing tomatoes--which we have never grown successfully in the past--have tiny green tomatoes on them, but I doubt if those fruits will ripen on the vine. The gourmet mesclun mixes that I planted among the tomatoes are producing far more bountifully, for those plants are truly growing in season, as are the radishes.  Tom and I have been enjoying the most wonderful salads from those greens, for which I prepare a very simple lemon juice and olive oil dressing (heavy on the lemon juice), seasoned with a little sea salt and freshly ground pepper.
Tom holds up sweet potatoes on a runner

Fall 2012 sweet potatoes
Tom dug up the sweet potatoes yesterday. He had planted sweet potato slips later than usual, so our crop wasn't a large one, but it was satisfying, nonetheless, to see the pile of sweet potatoes grow as he turned over the manure-enriched soil of our vegetable garden. He is also increasing the size of our "big" garden, which, when it's complete, should be approximately 50 feet long by 20 feet wide. The 8 ft.X8 ft. beds we put in behind our house our first year here will now be primarily planted with herbs and flowers--and the occasional winter greens.


I planted seeds of curly-leaf parsley in the late spring. The seeds sprouted, and though they suffered a bit from the hot weather, the plants grew well enough during the summer to provide meals for a slew of gulf fritillary caterpillars. After I had planted the parsley seeds and transplanted some flat-leaf parsley plants, I overheard an experienced Louisiana gardener say that she planted parsley in the fall. My parsley plants do seem happier in this cooler fall weather, but I will continue to plant parsley in the spring, too, so that there will be plenty of food for those caterpillars.
Radishes, tomatoes, and mesclun mixes & 2nd generation zinnia

Even as we are gathering the fruit of our fall garden, I am already thinking of spring, which will come much too early. According to NOAA, this past spring was the warmest spring on record, and "March was the warmest March on record by far." I hope to be better prepared this next year for an early onset of spring.

No comments: