Haltingly Spring

More productivity on this weekend day - a walk out to the optometrist to confirm that, indeed, middle age takes its toll on the eyesight.  Along the way back, some signs of spring - shivering in on this rather frigid day.

[more to come]

The Urban Jungle on "Planet Earth II"

[More to come]

 

"Cities" - pulls together many of the same themes of this blog - a most interesting episode.  More elaboration to come.

New York City has the highest density of nesting peregrine falcons of any place in the world.

Mumbai has the highest concentration of leopards in the world.

Starling ballets over Rome in December.

Catfish in Paris eating pigeons.  A radical new hunting strategy for what is normally a bottom dwelling fish.

Hawksbill turtle hatchlings going up the beach where crabs lay in wait.  Unable to adapt to the changes of the urban environment.

Vertical forest in Milan.  Greening cities in Singapore - richer in species than any other city in the world.  Smooth coated otters returning.  Grove of super trees covered with creepers.

Fridge Clearing Meal

There are few activities so satisfactory as creating a meal that uses up those odd bits and ends that gather in the fridge.

(More to come)

Accidental Farmer

"Accidental" - granted, the majority of the plants out on the terrace are certainly deliberately there, perhaps a bit haphazardly nurtured, but nurtured, or kept alive, or kept from dying (with moderate success).  Without a doubt, they are nurtured in spirit, and cared for, even if time permits of less than what is wished for them.  There are weeds - those cannot be accidental as they persist and insist despite being unwelcome; there are tomatoes that spring up out of the compost that hasn't quite composted - I suppose those latter truly are accidental, but only in their initial stages, as then they become nurtured and coddled.  But the rest of the time, "accidental" is not really accurate for the plantings out on the terrace.

"Farmer" - is simply not generally applicable.  The "Jardin," as it is affectionately known in these parts, is definitely a garden.  Although I suppose by some standards, a container garden may not be a "true" garden, without the direct connection to the earth.  And while it may be a decent size for New York City standards, well, New York City standards are a different standard where space and greenery are concerned.  But by no means is the Jardin anywhere remotely close to a "farm" - either definitionally or geographically - notwithstanding the foodstuffs that sometimes grow out there.

Hence, "accidental farmer" is most apt.  And when applied to produce left on the counter for too long without consumption, well, that anything would continue to grow is purely accidental.  That they would be left to grow for so long that they might reach a stage sufficiently advanced to provide any hope of cultivation, well, yes, accidental to the tee...

Right now, while the residents of the Jardin continue to freeze, inside, the ever-present life force pushes on.  And so from food, plants are born - the reverse of the cycle, or the next iteration of the cycle.  For a plant lover, it forces the choice between eating the produce, if edible still, and letting the sprouts take over.  Sometimes it is possible to split the baby, so to speak.

Sweet potato with purple-leaved buds.  I covet the purple sprouts - what color they would add to the Jardin, perhaps interspersed among vines of its green-leafed cousin shown below, especially trailing over one of the large planters.

A companion sweet potato - this one with light green leaves on a pinkish stalk. If these leaves are more chartreuse, they would be lovely interspersed as well.

Tableau of sprouting produce.  Note the daikon, whose top is sprouting fiercely.  There likely is not enough room to nourish a new daikon root of this size.  But Mumsicle has said she will take the top for the Mother Garden. 

Tableau of sprouting produce - second angle.  Note the sprouting onion.

Sweet potato - green-leafed, full-fledged plants.  Grown from the sweet potato that caused a fire in the microwave (oops), its growing tip amputated before its descent into the inferno.

Same sweet potato - angle #2.  Its future will be the large planter where the peach tree carcass stands.

Tableau - again.

Bokchoy stub - in growth mode.

The purple-leaved sweet potato - amputated of its growing tip, microwaved, buttered, salted, peppered, filled with softly scrambled eggs lightened with milk and studded with chopped leaves from the overgrown onion.

The amputated purple-leaved sweet potato tip, settled into a makeshift bulb vase (jar, whose mouth holds a plastic bottleneck cut from the bottle, inverted, which then holds the sweet potato elevated, but just below the water line), in the window.

Overgrown, sprouted onion, whose leaf tips flavored the scrambled eggs.

Teeny tiny sweet potato cuts with teeny tiny sprouts - likely too small to grow, but just in case, they were nestled into the soil of a potted plant.



Snowstorm Stella

Much ado about an unextraordinary bit of something ... [more to come]

 



Pre-Blizzard Prepping

So, the forecasters say we're in for a doozy... a nor'easter Monday night into Tuesday morning, about 24 hours off.  12-18 inches, so they say. 

There was no time to go out for food or supplies today.  I suppose we can scrounge up enough food if need be; it should only be a day at most - New York City generally bounces back quickly.  But Sissy insisted on going out and righting the bikes, which had been blown over on their sides, fully exposed to the moisture.  So we took a rare excursion out.

Out the kitchen window - the means of ingress and egress.  Difficult enough for us, being relatively petite.  But the super has been out this way, contractors have been out this way.  Oy.

The uprighted bikes, underneath their tattered Bike Parka, looking out toward the rest of the terrace.

I had been wondering with the recent warmth whether any of the plants had come up.  I was wondering about the tulips rescued from Park Avenue last year.  At the "empty" tree pit on First Avenue, the one that looked unloved and unadopted, devoid of tree or any plants last year, it became clear it was not so neglected after all - with the spike in temperatures, leaves appeared on plants that looked like crocuses, maybe tulips.  I had planned stealthily to add new Park Avenue rescues this year, but maybe there will be no need.  But a little hard to tell, as I have only been passing by in the evening, with little light, on the way home from the Second Avenue Q (!! - still makes me happy).

 

During the inspection on the terrace, it was evident the rescued tulips had been fooled on the terrace as well.  The foliage is out.  Poor things - only to be buried in snow in under a day....

Tulip foliage - in the planter with the honeysuckle.

Tulip foliage - in the hibiscus planter.

Winter casualty - the old Japanese maple.  I cannot recall whether I yanked it out, or whether this is a result of the wind and snow from the past few weeks/months.

The "terrariums" (terraria?) in the geranium planter.  They don't appear to have worked; the little geraniums that were there before have disappeared.  It must have been too cold.  But there are seeds, still; and the root stocks are still alive - not all hope is lost yet.

Planter by the door - the repository of the greatest number of bulbs.  This is where the "angel hair" cardinal vine grew.  The trellis is temporarily reclining off to the side for the winter - too windy.

The white rosebush - with signs of growth.

Closer look at the Japanese maple planter; in the foreground is the little one - hopefully a fighter and survivor.

The little hibiscus - with some swelling around the leaf nodes.  Hopefully a good sign.

A bit of fresh green peeking through the snow in the daylily planter.