The sun is ready to rise this morning on my little piece of heaven here in the desert. Although the picture above isn’t my reality, it’s how I feel in the summer here in the Great Big Empty. My water bill is so high you would think I’m supporting a spread like that. On Google Earth, my house supports one of the few green spaces left. Xeriscaping is popular here. Such is life on the high desert plains of Northwestern Nevada.
Xeriscaping (Zera’-scaping) is the process of landscaping, or gardening, that reduces or eliminates the need for irrigation. It is promoted in regions that do not have accessible, plentiful, or reliable supplies of fresh water and has gained acceptance in other regions as access to irrigation water has become limited, though it is not limited to such climates.
In my opinion, Xeriscaping is loved by non-gardening types. Here in my town, it’s taken to a new level. Entire lots are xeriscaped. With rocks. Zero plants. It does nothing for me. I need soft green lawn and my banyan apricot tree for shade.
After living on a farm for most of my life, in 2007, VST and I moved to a mountaintop in the foothills of California just below Yosemite. The gate to the National park was a 30 minute ride through majestic pine trees. Of course, Yosemite Valley was another hour’s drive. After the greenest of springtime’s complete with California poppies, there were summers full of waterfalls and autumns full of golden grasses and bronze oak leaves. There were four seasons, but they blended into one another in a non-stop symphony.
Gardening there wasn’t necessary, as the foothills provide the plants. A natural setting for oak trees, with pines just a little higher up the road. The deer would eat everything green, so there was no point in even trying a garden. It wouldn’t survive the wildlife.
Around here, most people have no troubles with destructive wildlife. Living on the fringe of civilization, as I do, we host the mustangs. For now, my gardening party is in the back yard. Until there is some sort of barrier to prevent the horses from munching in the flower beds, it’ll stay that way. Unplanned xeriscaping for now.
Here in the desert, when one season turns into the next, it’s definitely a new song. There are four distinct seasons, each with its beauty and difficulties. We’re just now coming off of the most mild spring in many, many years, and the gardens of Winterpast are singing right now. It’ll be interesting to see what tune they sing on Saturday when temps will reach 100.
This was the spring all my trees and plants needed. There are things blooming in the yard that I never knew I had. Yellow day lilies are going crazy! Thanks goes to my MM for working his magic on everything green and blooming. With heavy doses of Miracle Grow and Super Thrive, along with temperatures that haven’t yet reached 85, Winterpast is a true desert oasis, watered twice a day.
Gardening provides the opportunity to work through grief. Planting a garden is believing in tomorrow. From the tiniest seeds, miracles sprout. It is magical to watch.
This year, even yards that don’t receive the loving care they need are beautiful. It’s been the Spring of the Roses. They’re everywhere in every color. If people have rose bushes, they’re blooming like they never have before. Roses are the one sure plant that thrives in this desert environment. Give them enough water and watch out. They’ll take over.
MM has his own thing going at the bachelor pad just to the East. Harvesting strawberries every evening for ice cream sundaes, he is the one with the real green thumb. In his garden, the zucchini are ready to pick. Russet potatoes were harvested over the weekend. (Fresh produce is something just this side of heaven). His tomato vines are covered with cherry tomatoes. He’s got a great crop of garlic and onions. Three varieties of grapes cover his fence. All these are watched over by trumpet vines. I haven’t even begun to mention his flowering plants.
Between the two of us, our water bills are as much as a mortgage. We try to justify the amount we spend to keep our two patches of green alive. Here’s the deal. We don’t gamble, except when deciding whether it’s too early to plant our crops in the spring. We don’t drink, except for ice cold water while weeding on a warm day. We don’t travel much, unless you count the many trips to the garden center for supplies. No need for therapy, as gardening under the bright blue Nevada sky provides all we need. Water and plants are our vice. On that, we are in lock step.
Not all is sunshine and lollipops. This week, the aphids are after the new roses. It’s time for a dose of some insecticidal soap. The apricots are as big as I’ve ever seen in my life. When the crop hits, it’ll be time for canning, dehydrating, and sharing. Oliver will have plenty to keep him busy. The pits of apricots are dangerous for dogs. He somehow figured that out. He spits them out in tidy little groups of six or seven. Funny how he already knew.
After the apricots, my plums will ripen. MM’s nectarines and peaches will be ripe for the picking. We’re considering getting a table at the Farmer’s Market to sell our excess. We’ll have plenty.
The pieces for the new greenhouse are awaiting assembly in the RV barn. There’s a foundation to pour first. Things have been busy around here. How was there ever time for an outside job? The gardens are a full time job all on their own.
Whatever you decide to do today, go outside and water something. Choose your favorite plant and really take time to nurture it to see what happens. Gardening is such a healing hobby. If you’ve never tried it, start small. Lowe’s offers a money back guarantee on plants that die, even if it wasn’t their fault. You’ve got nothing to lose and everything to gain. Give it a try.
