Bedtime Stories

Behind the scenes of the changing seasons …

After a long summer and warm early fall days, it is finally time to get all the plants on the balcony ready for the cold. And as I replant, pile mulch around the roots, and carefully choose a good winter spot, the whole thing begins to remind me of something else.

“Have you brushed off your leaves, White Rose? Oh, common, you know it’s time for that now. Stop fussing, it’s late already.”

“Really, Blackberry? Still growing green berries? Okay, let’s move them a little closer to the window, maybe that will help darken them. But it will be hard once the sun loses the yellow, you know.”

“Oh my gosh, Apricot, look at you. You’re going to need a serious trim next spring.”

“Savory, I know you don’t like the Bergamotte mint. It smells a little funky, even without the leaves. But you are going to have to share a space for a few months now.”

“Rosemary and Raspberry! Calm down, you are keeping everyone else up. And don’t let your roots stick out, or you’ll catch a cold.”

And as I tuck the last of my green friends in for the winter, I wonder what bedtime stories they will tell each other. Probably the birds that picked off the last of the aphids and lazy worms in late summer have piped an interesting one or two.

About how at this time of year humans disguise themselves to look like other people, animals, or even plants. How they perform the most curious ceremonies while seeming to enjoy themselves immensely. And how they drag little carts filled with rotten fruit juice to walk long distances, finally arriving at a big house where they all meet and celebrate some cabbage. A late grower, dark green, completely unspectacular, maybe even a little boring.

By then all the herbs have gone to sleep, while the larger berry bushes are still mumbling about the coming festivities, when the trees will carry lights instead of leaves, glittering balls instead of fruit.

Until finally all is still.

And waiting.

And as I replant, pile mulch around the roots, and carefully choose a good winter spot, the whole thing begins to remind me of something else.

Side Notes:

• The protagonists in this post may be new to you. To get to know them a little better, the post [‘Boxed Up for Good’] is a good introduction to the leafy community on our balcony.
• If you are planning the next gardening – or balcony – season, you might want to check out this summer’s table talk with Ortrud Grieb [‘Best Beeties, Best Buddies’]. I will certainly take some time this winter to re-read her book on mixed cultivation and make some notes (for coordinates see InfoByteSized page under Table Talk).
• After my spring research on Bear’s Garlic (see [‘Who’s Seen the Bear?’]), I’m determined to start growing our own next year. This means that I will be sowing the early green right now and again in February. We’ll see which timing works better this coming winter. Wish me luck!
• With the balcony growing coming to an end, I am getting back to micro-greens and sprouts. And I am starting with kale sprouts. If you want to prepare the recipe for the upcoming Ingredient Special on Kale in two weeks, I suggest you do the same 😉