Dominant Species

Day 285: This is the Barren Wasteland at its best. Rudbeckia (Black-eyed Susan) dominates the space with occasional pops of colour from Rose Campion, Deptford Pinks, Tall Phlox and (now) Milkweed. A few white Yarrow stems are interspersed despite my efforts at weeding them out, and the odd stalk of peppermint which escapes being made into tea may add flecks of lavender. Already gone are the California and Oriental Poppies, the "orange" phase of the Barren Wasteland's phenological cycle, but the Rudbeckias will persist until after the first light frosts. When a section becomes too crowded with clumps of this vigorous species, I pull them out to make more room. There never seems to be a shortage!

Volcanic Rudbeckia

Day 308: I live with volcanos. There's a 14,411' one within spittin' distance, and another known for its violent temper not too far away to the south. And then there are a hundred or so juveniles in the Barren Wasteland between the outer walls of my kitchen and garage: Rudbeckias, with their cinder cones surrounded by any number of tiny fumaroles emitting sulphrous-yellow smoke, rising above a bed of rough talus. Red-hot lava spreads out below, dusted here and there with the ash of earlier eruptions. Black-eyed Susans, you say? Nah. Etna, Kilauea, Popocatepetl, but definitely not Susan, however upset she must have been about that black eye.

No Longer Barren

Day 304: There is a 10-foot wide strip of land between my house and the garage which, with the ambition of a new homeowner, I decided to turn into a garden when I first moved here over thirty years ago. A portion of it was occupied by a heavy wooden lid over the pit where the captive-air tank lives (the system which pressurizes water to the house) and a concrete slab over what must have been an old well. The rest of the space was overgrown with grass and weeds, so I set about digging and tilling, preparatory to planting beans and corn. I should have known the project was doomed just by looking at the soil: a pale brownish-grey substance with no tilth to speak to its ability to nourish plants. I was rewarded with some spindly, tough beans and nothing else, but even so, it took several years for me to admit defeat as far as produce was concerned. Changing tactics, I began trying to establish wildflowers in what had by then become known as the Barren Wasteland. Many experiments later, this is what the Barren Wasteland looks like today, a riot of chest-high colour. Despite being no longer barren, its name shall endure as a testament to my labours and the amazing determination with which black-eyed susans and rose campion vanquish all invaders.