Sugar snap peas emerging, finally

I haven't had much luck with sugar snap peas. Here's the rundown.  Yup, I use new unexpired seed lots. Brand new seeds. From Renees. Yup, I soak the peas overnight until they get all bloaty looking and suck up all the water. Yup, I till the soil, adding fresh compost and veggie fertilizer. Yet, I find very few peas coming up each time.

This time, I went with a different angle. Look below.

I found these food tents absurdly cheap at Big Lots!  I thought they would be a great temporary cover for new shoots, especially since I grow my crops in little spaces in between things.

And guess what? Shoots I have!

The shoots are still there a week later!

Because I share a garden with not just zillions of slugs but with birds who watch me from a distance and they know who they are, I have a strong suspicion the birds may harbor gourmet tastes, namely for pea shoots.

Life on the edge: the first daffodil

Family Amaryllidacea, Narcissus sp.

My first daffodil emerges at the very edge of my plot, next to the central path of the community gardens, and so, not surprisingly, it gets a bit battered. Still, I admire it's verve and sunniness, raring to go despite the occasional trampling. Life on the edge means more sun, lots of good stuff such as attention and admiration, though with the chance of a bashing by the elements. Surely a good life lesson from the daffodil this morning, especially for me as I tend to gravitate away from the edges.

First green is gold

Thornless boysenberry leaf

Robert Frost

Nature's first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

The first leaf this season, on the boysenberry. I was struck by the gold in the green, almost vibrating.When I revisit the Robert Frost poem, I always forget it ends with sadness, my interpretation of his piece.
Would you think it sadness? Is it possible to have loss without sadness?
I don't know. I do know first green is often gold, especially out in the chaparral after a good rain and especially after a fresh burn.  Funny, there I see the gold as a promise, one of hope.

Cilantro blooming

Even though it is winter, some of my cilantro has bolted. Funny, what a word. My cilantro hasn't yet galloped away though it has matured.  I love bolted cilantro, so pretty and photogenic. Statuesque and fragile, they sport frilly leaves and dainty flowers, all parts still exuding that familiar fragrance. Though I love cilantro and would easily decimate my population, I deliberately leave a few plants. I like how they provide visual variety, the skyscraper height to contrast with the regular guys down below. The other hope has something to do with collecting seeds, though that has yet to happen. One day.

Family Apiaceae, Coriandrum sativum

First blackberries of 2011

Not the greatest photo, I know, but they had flavor, surprisingly sweet for so early in the year. Outliers, probably from the time in November when we had hotter than summer temperatures. As for the next set of berries? Probably in a few months. There's not even a new leaf in sight.