Heir To The Area

'Brass Band' enjoying the heat more than I am:
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Our miserable humid heat continues; sloth is the order of the day.  I'm awake late sweating and waiting for enough coolness to allow for sleep, but rise early to enjoy the sweet air  of dawn with the puppies, and to watch the bats come home after a night of hunting.  The bats  roost in recessed lights in the patio ceiling, grabbing hold of the space between the fixture and the light bulb, and crawling up inside the cavity above the bulb.  Bats are under severe threat in our area due to habitat loss.  I do not grudge them shelter, but the patio light fixtures are not the place for them.  They need a bat house.  I haven't gotten to that. 

As the sun rises, not much gets done.  All the tomatoes are pulled out and there is a pile left to cook up, but they may rot before I get to them.  Too hot in the kitchen to boil sauce for hours.
Cleared out:
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Also piled up are Agave bulbils.  
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I plan to turn the tomato beds into a bulbil farm for the fall, winter, and into next spring, but again it has not happened.
Stuck in a chair, waiting for bed:
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Too hot in the garden for digging and moving and arranging.  I did pop in a Scleranthus biflorus, my third attempt at this mysterious (what the heck does it want?) plant.  The first two died so quickly, I wonder why I bothered.  Summer heat makes planting optimism go up in steam.
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The new hedge is complete.  The final two plants went at a 90 degree angle to the rest.  The space behind them creating a new hidden (eventually) area for composting.  The compost spot has wandered over the years.  I think I have finally got a relatively permanent solution.  The places where the compost used to sit contain the best soil in the garden. 
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Because of the new hedge and the heat, I've been watering more, a lot more, and the roses and lemon tree have responded with fresh new growth.  
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Even the Quercus argrifolia seedlings have sprouted new leaves, and I've at last sighted the heir to the area.  This particular Quercus seedling is right in the middle of the space between the driveway and the culvert, between three retaining walls and the fence.  If it grows, I will gradually remove everything around it, more and more, until it has the space to itself.
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This seeding has room to possibly mature, given four or five decades, into a magnificent tree.  I will not live to see it, but I dearly hope someone will one day treasure such a tree.  This seedling is a hope for a more beautiful future for this one particular spot on Earth.
Can your strength grow and prevail?
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I remarked to a neighbor one day that the Magnolia he had planted would eventually buckle his driveway and crack his retaining wall, and he merely shrugged, laughed, and replied that it would be someone else's problem--he will have moved by then.  I lost respect for him for that.

How is it we have stopped caring for the future and the commonweal?   How is it possible that precious gains, hard won for our parents, what social safety net we have, born out of witnessing the suffering of great-grandparents, will be denied our children?  

I've got mine, the heck with you.
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As we know, forests evolve.  Disturbed land sprouts coarse, fast-growing weeds and weedy ephemeral shrubs taking advantage of sun, shrubs and conifers gradually displace the weediest plants and sheltering shade develops over a few decades, then hardwood trees such as Oaks create the mature and stable forests that endure for centuries.  Such stability and continuity creates an environment teeming with life and opportunity. 

The aristocratic landowners of another age planted magnificent trees for their distant heirs, knowing they would not live to see them, but taking pride in thinking of the future benefit to their descendents.   Taxes bought civilization, and civilization was not an evil.  The supposed aristocrats of today are in reality only the most aggressive and greediest of the aggressive and greedy. 
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So I muse in the summer heat.   How can the sun be so bright and hot, and the future seem so dark and icy cold?  
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Comments

  1. Wow, dark thoughts in CA sunshine! I agree, however, that looking at the greedy selfishness that is present in human nature is quite apalling. We need to weed our hearts as much as we weed our gardens.

    Could you please tell me the name of the rose at the top of your blog today? Thanks, and thanks for planting the tree and thinking of the future generations.

    Erin

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    1. Good thought, hearts can build up weeds too. That's 'Brass Band', which has proven very reliable here.

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  2. Well, not so many warm days let alone hot over here this year Hoover. Watering the borders has mostly been unnecessary, never mind the sun is shining today, I have just planted a few hardy Geraniums and trimmed the hedges in the back garden, and the world is looking good in all respects for the likes of you and me. Perhaps its our age but so many people seem not to give a damn about anything these days,I am sure given time all will change again. Love your blog and I would like a little of your heat.

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    1. If only I could send you some of the heat. Though you might get more than you wanted, and be out there watering daily.

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  3. Great post. Greed is the root of most evil... I find myself turning away from the soundbytes and turning back to the gardens to refresh my soul... I'm fortunate to have been able to surround myself with beauty.

    WE are finally getting some gorgeous partly couldy days in the 80's. Fabulous for taking some time to enjoy the abundance in the borders right now.

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    1. Good weather in a beautiful garden (as yours is!) makes everything seem a little brighter, doesn't it? Enjoy!

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  4. I have a rather macabre method of cheering myself up when the time in which we live seems bleak -- and that is to compare it to times others have lived through like the Spanish Inquisition or the First World War, the flu pandemic in 1918, the Black Death, etc -- feel any better? What a pair we make! Best of luck, little oak. You can do it!

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    1. Yes we are the sunshine twins. ;) Though any mention of the Spanish Inquisition and I instantly think: Monty Python.

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  5. Hi, I really enjoy your blog, plants and dogs. And I agree selfishness is rampant. What I've noticed is the total war on the poor. It was the war on poverty, now forget those that have less.If you never see poor people(and ridicule those you do see)then it's fairly easy to believe everyone has ipads,hdtv and food.dl

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    1. Thank you, JD. When did poverty become something within a person's complete control? As if we are all in control of everything that can affect us. Let's hope for better days ahead for all.

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  6. The sad truth is that trees, municipal buildings, houseses are not put in place to last these days. Most schools are built with the idea of being used for about 50 years. All too often in our "makeover" society, whole neighborhoods and gardens are dozed to create something different. Gorgeous old homes are remuddled in the name of updating. Still, as gardeners, it's our lot; our joy to plant and hope. Go, little tree, go! Sometimes it is comforting to think that we probably won't live long enough to see the total destruction of the planet.

    Your 'Brass Band' is stunning!

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    1. Yes...though I am sad for my little nephew. Keep on growing...what else can we do?

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  7. I hope you get some relief from the heat soon. No problems about that here, in fact we barely had any this 'summer'. I like the photo of the Agave bulbils on the chair, abstract and artistic!

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    1. Thanks--We should get better weather soon, at least at night.

      Maybe you will have a great autumn to make up for the lack of summer...

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  8. The agave bulbils look like a slightly spiky cushion on your great orange chair!

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    1. How about that, I never thought of such a thing. You are right! A bulbil pillow: too funny!

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