Falling Back Into Old Habits

Sleepily stepping out on to the damp pool deck this morning, I was greeted by a lemon-pale sun trying to rise past purple clouds. Bebe tore past me in a flash of fur, her nails scraping the concrete as she rushed to race with the squirrels who were feasting from the bird feeders. They tantalize her by swinging from the branches of the orange trees to the palm tree, then they leap to the power lines and onto the feeders. Once Bebe starts her chase, they spring from the ledge of the feeders, spraying seed like rain and dance across the edge of the fence. Bebe chases them relentlessly barking her 7am alarm. The two red-tailed hawks who have taken up residence in a neighbor's yard, circle and watch the chase from above contemplating either Bebe or the squirrels for their babies' breakfast. Cardinals take the opportunity to sneak in a few pieces of seed while the squirrels are being herded away, and the scrub jays sip from the birdbath.

Suddenly, Autumn escaped the lips of Summer in a breath of cool air which I inhaled like a long-awaited drink. The breeze was brief, but long enough to make an impression. Long enough to blow the wisps of hair on Bebe's ears straight back, to make the scrub jays look up from their drinking pool and swallow just a bit longer, to encourage the hawks to circle one more time on the dime of Mother Nature and to make me breathe a sigh of relief that Autumn is back. I knew it was close. The Ponderosa lemon tree's pendulous orbs of fruit are starting to strain the already bent limbs. There have been juvenile Ibis lurking at dawn and dusk plunging their long beaks deep between grass blades for a juicy snack. And, just the other day, I caught sight of two Love Bugs flitting by - a tell-tale sign that the seasons are about to pass the baton.

In anticipation of Fall, I consulted the Old Farmer's Almanac to make sure I planted my winter garden right with the moon's good mood. I tilled and turned the parched grey sand from last year's garden into espresso rich black soil moistened with beads of sweat dripping from my chin. I imported over 200 pounds of coffee grounds from the local Starbuck's where the barisita now knows me by name. Then came the 8 bags of cow manure and the dozens of cracked egg-shells I've been saving for half the summer. Lastly, the layers of rich compost from a local horse farm where Bebe is deathly afraid of the horses. With the soil ready, now comes the plotting and planting. There are 15 tomato plants along the fence, an herb garden to the south, 8 corn plants to the north and in between, broccoli sprouts two rows. Two kinds of lettuce, Romaine and Red Leaf hold center ground and are surrounded by thin lines of ground cinnamon to deter pests. Peppers, red, green and yellow lead the way to 40 or so bush bean seedlings. Every foot or so all along the border of the garden, Elephant Ear garlic cloves have been sunk the depth of a pencil-length to ward off evil aphids. I've left enough room for onions, peas and a few more herbs once the weather really begins to promise Fall and not just tease those of us who live for that first breath of fresh air.