Why does life need a soundtrack? I wonder this all the time because, as you’ve probably noticed, you can’t buy groceries, shop for clothes, pump gas, eat a meal, ride an elevator or even go to the bathroom without some sort of musical accompaniment. Why is that? Are the designers of public spaces worried about what will happen if we are left alone with our thoughts? Do they suppose that we don’t have thoughts?
Or is it that people think we need music in order to conjure up the appropriate emotions for a given situation? This thought came to mind last week when my husband Mike and I were visiting my family in Arizona, and we took a short sightseeing cruise with my dad. We had just taken our seats aboard the Dolly Steamboat for an hour and a half nature cruise around Canyon Lake when the peaceful sound of paddlewheel against water was drowned out by Enya’s 1988 hit “Orinoco Flow.” Booming out of the boat’s crackling speakers, the song was both fittingly epic and completely cheesy in a not altogether disagreeable way. But why not enjoy the sounds of nature on the nature cruise? we groused to each other.
Touted on the brochure as Arizona’s “Junior Grand Canyon,” Canyon Lake feels like an almost surreal oasis in the middle of the otherwise rocky, dry and cactus-filled Sonoran Desert. And it is, really, since the man-made lake was formed in 1925 when the Mormon Flat Dam trapped water from the Salt River. The steep canyon walls are the main attraction on the tour, and the boat’s captain explained how many of the rock formations we could see were the result of volcanic eruptions dating back as far as 15 million years. We brought along binoculars, hoping to see some bald eagles but, instead, we spotted several bighorn sheep defying gravity as they made their way along the face of the cliffs.Read More»
“I think my garden looks great in winter, especially after a fresh snowfall.” That’s what Cindy, a reader in Wisconsin, said in an email she sent to me last week. As proof, she attached this magical, postcard-worthy photo of her yard.
As you can see, she is absolutely right, and I wrote her back right away to say so, and to ask permission to post the photo on my blog. Cindy wasn’t trying to boast. I think she just wanted to remind me that there’s more to winter than smashed ornamental grasses, buried outdoor furniture and yellow snow. And she did concede that, “It’s a little easier to landscape for winter in the country than in the city,” which it is for a variety of reasons.
Still, while urban dwellers like me aren’t likely to experience the kind of snowy backyard wonderland that our more outlying counterparts do, her kind note did motivate me to try to see more beauty in what has so far been a pretty ass-kickingly tough winter. So, let’s not focus on the loveliness of my own backyard, which includes this focal point by the driveway.
Instead, behold this amazingly cool Christmas tree made of sphagnum moss and potted orchids and bromeliads that I saw at the Minnesota Landscape Arboretum last week.
Outside at the arboretum and down by the lake near my house, there are these sights to behold.
Back inside where it’s warm, there’s fern frost on the bathroom window.
And a kitty sleeping on the dining room table in the sun.
It’s great to know when a blog post is helpful in some way. So I was happy to hear from lots of you that last week’s tour of summer garden photos helped ease the pain of this long, cold winter. And I so appreciate everyone who wrote to help me identify those purple seed pods I posted. I was walking down an alley not far from my house last year and saw that plant poking up over the fence of someone’s backyard. I took a few photos of those pretty pods, hoping I could figure out what the plant was and, yes, you are all correct. It is Lablab purpureus, commonly known as hyacinth bean, Egyptian bean or Indian bean.
The vine is native to the tropical areas of Africa where the flowers and beans are a food source. (I got varying reports from people about the actual tastiness of these beans, and some readers cautioned against eating the beans raw.) According to several plant history websites, hyacinth bean was introduced into the American nursery trade in the early 19th century after having been a part of European gardens as far back as the early 1700s.Read More»
I know it’s just January and there is much, much more winter to go. But I’m feeling unusually gloomy about all the cold and gray/white everywhere. So rather than stew, I spent some time looking at photos of gardens I’ve visited over the last couple of years. Seeing all those plants and blue sky cheered me right up. And I hope it helps you, too, if you’ve got a bit of the winter blues.
So, come on, then. Let’s go on a garden tour!
Ah, spring is coming. Whew!
Grafting. The term probably makes you think of roses, grapes, apples and nuts, which have long been grafted to improve disease resistance and productivity. But it won’t be long before grafting is also commonly associated with tomatoes, eggplants, peppers, watermelon and other vegetables that are highly susceptible to crop destroyers, such as bacterial wilt, nematodes and soil-borne diseases.
That’s because, over the last decade, researches experimenting with grafting at many U.S. universities have reported increasingly positive results with several types of vegetables. The three main benefits of grafting being: improved disease resistance, higher yields (and sometimes quality), and increased ability to adapt to harsh environmental conditions like temperature extremes, floods and drought.
While much of the research centers around the needs of commercial growers, new lines of grafted vegetables will be available to home gardeners, too. As an urban gardener with little space to grow edibles, I’m intrigued by the idea of trying grafted veggies, which might save me from the inevitable blight and pestilence my crops are likely to suffer since I can’t rotate them as often as I should. But before I plant, I want to understand more about how grafting works and, specifically, how it might affect the fruiting part of the plant. Here’s what I’ve learned so far.Read More»
Ever wonder why your nose runs like crazy when it’s really cold outside? My husband Mike asked me if I knew why in the heck this happens just the other day. We were walking our dog, Lily, who was tired of being patient while we waited for temps to rise into at least the low teens. As expected, we were just a few steps down the sidewalk when our noses turned into leaking faucets. (Tip: always buy washable winter gloves.)
I had no idea why noses run in the cold, and I forgot to look it up to see if I could find out. But last night I was reading Do Sparrows Like Bach?: The Strange and Wonderful Things That Are Discovered When Scientists Break Free, and there was the answer. There is no answer. Scientists don’t quite know what causes “cold-induced rhinitis,” which is what doctors call faucet nose. According to the book, which was put out by New Scientist magazine, researchers suspect that the autonomic nervous system may be involved.
Here’s an interesting tidbit on how to stop the faucet from a chapter in the book called “The Yuck Factor”: “Nerves belonging to the autonomic nervous system, some of which connect to the nasal glands, use a neurotransmitter known as acetylcholine. Fortunately, there is a quick fix.” That fix, the book goes on to explain, is two squirts of ipratropium bromide, an inhibitor of acetylcholine, in each nostril 45 minutes before heading out into the cold or before eating spicy food.
What is this miracle product? I wondered. So I did a quick Google search and found that doctors often prescribe ipratropium bromide inhalers for allergy sufferers and people with more serious issues like asthma, emphysema and chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. Inhalers, which are sold under a variety of trade names, can be purchased inexpensively as generics. But first, I’d be inclined to weigh the pro of not having snot on my mittens against the cons, which include this list of common side effects: dry mouth, cough, headache, nausea, dizziness and difficulty breathing.
Heck, snot’s not so bad, right?