Itching for spring, for green

I'm itching to be in the garden. The view outside my office window is brown, brown and more brown. With your occasional robin, which tells me spring is on the way.

This morning, I took the loppers and cut volunteer trees out of the hedgerows, a task I usually tackle in the fall. You can see how desperate I am to be outside. I found the task much easier to do before everything leafs out. This may become a new spring routine.

My daffodils are up and budding. I don't know if they know that it is still very early in March, and this is IOWA. Normally I'd be raking away the leaf mulch, but I'm hesitant - winter could still throw something big at us. I sure hope the daffodils know more than the calendar.

Since the sun is shining and the breeze is blowing and today is a very good approximation of spring, I'm going back outside. There are sticks to pick up. Daffodils to appreciate.

If the daffodils can pretend it's spring, so can I.

When it's just right

There's no hurrying good carrion. My husband threw a dead rabbit out into the field a couple of days ago. Today the vultures have been circling.  Every once in a while, a vulture will drop down next to the rabbit and take a look.  Almost always a second vulture lands a short distance away.

The first vulture looks, but doesn't touch, the rabbit carcass.  If the other vulture makes a move to close in, the first vulture may spread its wings in a protective gesture or fly toward the second vulture to chase it away. Then it goes back to the carcass to take another look. After a bit, both vultures fly away.

A hawk checked out the carcass, too, poked at it, but left it alone. Maybe the rabbit was too far gone to make a good hawk meal.

Knowing that vultures like their food good and ripe, I can only assume the rabbit isn't 'cured' to the appropriate level yet.

Now that the sun is out and the temperatures are warming up, it probably won't take long. 

Since I have a personal problem with patience, I have to admire these vultures who will wait until their dinner is just right before sitting down to eat.


NOTE: This photo shows vultures on top of a silo catching the morning sun. 

Oh, Quack!

"Go away and come back in three years." That's what my contact at Ion Exchange told me when I shared my concern about the quack grass taking over my prairie garden. I'm sure he gets calls all the time from impatient prairie garden owners.

But really. Have they seen my quack grass problem? I sent photos. No response. It's only been a week, but the quack grass is more aggressive by the day. This photo was taken before it got bad!

I walked into the garden again today. Searching for any plant that might be one of the seeds I so optimistically scattered a month ago. Though I didn't see anything at first glance, more careful study - on my hands and knees - revealed much more. Each time I found a tiny seedling, I pinched back the quack grass, aiming to give my newest baby a bit of sunlight and breathing room. No pulling or I could pull out the prairie plant as well.

But we're talking 2,400 sq. ft. Pinching quack grass leaves over the entire area is impractical, at best. And perhaps the seedlings are stronger than the quack grass. I just don't know.

My new garden is teaching me many things - to slow down and look closely and to have more patience. It's also teaching me what a control freak I am. As if I didn't already know that. I want to DO something. Instead, I may need to just let nature do what it will do on its own.

Good News/Bad News - June Prairie Garden Update

It's been almost a month since I sowed the seeds of my prairie garden. (This picture shows the spot before planting.) The last four weeks have been a good news/bad news story.

Good news: It's rained regularly, giving the seeds a really good start.
Bad news: Most of what is growing is crab grass. Some areas are almost solid.

Good news: Crab grass is easy to pull out and can be pulled easily when it is small.
Bad news: I can't be sure each of these little plants is really crab grass and not some unfamiliar new prairie plant.
More Bad news: When/if I pull up the grass, I could at the same time dislodge a fragile prairie plant.

I am impatient by nature. As I walk by the prairie area, my inclination is to pull out one or a dozen or a hundred little grass plants. I want to pick at them like I would at a scab. This may not be the best course. Maybe this is an expected stage of prairie restoration. Maybe I just need to be calm and wait and see.

I have called my friends at Ion Exchange to get their advice. When they let me know, I'll let you know.