Yet another good reason to look up lately: to calculate the changing angle of the sun and understand why my snap peas are having such a tough time of it.
When I planted, the sun levels were far from satisfactory because at a true winter angle the sun barely cleared the treeline before getting ready to set. The soil in the main area of the garden stayed cool and moist, and I complained to F. that there was no way the cabbages would mature with two to three hours of weak winter sun, and that the peas (both kinds) were never going to sprout. But there was nothing we could do to change it. We have used nearly every square inch of our tiny yard that was made available to us for a garden by the landlord, and if it’s not sunny in spring, tough luck. When we prepared it last May, I already knew the sun exposure was weak and variable (and yet far better than it is now), and we went ahead with our plans anyway.
However, just lately the sun had begun making its presence felt, easily clearing the tree line by noon, and even before that sending strong, buttery rays through the mostly bare branches of deciduous trees to strike the earth with life-giving warmth. The few snap peas that had reluctantly sprouted after 45 days (!) began to leaf out and send up tendrils. And finally last week one of those tendrils grasped the pea fence and prepared to climb. I was so thrilled.
And then the trees began to fill in. Our sun situation may actually be worse in this part of the garden right now than it was in February. It’s a lot harder to clear the tree line now, and almost nothing is getting through when the sun is below that height.
The new treeline is defined by the tallest trees, even if they are far taller than their fellows, and not by a common tangle of bare branches down below.
If only the pea vines had been allowed a week or two more, they could have fanned out and grown higher on the fence and received enough light to keep going. The brick wall behind them gets a decent dose of sunlight — beginning about six inches up from the highest plant’s current position. If only their butterfly-shaped leaves could truly lift them higher, all would be well, and they could get growing in earnest.
Just like a butterfly... but still unable to fly up the pea fence.
Unfortunately, I know for a fact that this wall gets hot early in summer. I grew purple-podded pole beans in those pots last summer, and they sprawled up the wall quickly, completely smothering the support with their beautiful purple-tinted foliage. But pole beans love the heat, whereas peas cringe from it.
A long way to go...
Because I’d foolishly assumed the snap peas would be done soon (ha!), I never considered that the heat from the wall might become an issue. Of course, this pot-bound growing method was chosen only as a last-minute backup because a flash-flood river ran through the garden in late winter, destroying the plot where I’d planned to plant my snap peas.
I’ve concluded that it will be a miracle if we eat a single podded pea from the garden this year. But then, miracles happen all the time in the garden; don’t they?
So do tragedies, I suppose.
Either way, I won’t take it personally. My Zen-like acceptance says far less about the snap peas than it does about my memories of a successful bean crop whose seeds could easily be sown in a month’s time if this experiment doesn’t succeed.
Maybe the next place we choose to rent will be equipped with not just a kindly, garden-friendly landlord, but also a yard with a vegetable-worthy sun exposure.
One can always dream.
Namasté, y’all!
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Meredith, the lack of enough sun is why I am now gardening in containers! This garden has always had trees but after 20+ yrs they block the sun. Strangely it’s the morning light, the late afternoon sun pours on the garden. My poor Tennessee Coneflowers, which like to follow the sun’s movement, lie down as the days goes on! I told my husband that when/if we ever build I am checking out the property through the course of the day and if possible the seasons! Frances/fairegarden has success with snap peas…and I don’t think she gardens in a really sunny spot…Maybe she has a suggestion or two! ….and maybe, they will produce anyway! gail
Gail´s last blog ..Container Hope
Oh, dear, Gail, yet another consideration when one owns the land. I have only afternoon sunlight on the small bed we dug for our “fall extension” garden last year, and it seems to do all right in spite of that. (Crossing fingers.) I love your containers, though, Gail. They are part of the charm of your lovely garden.
I might drop Frances a line and ask for snap pea tips and tricks; her climate is even similar to my own here. Thanks for the suggestion.
Hi Meredith,
Gardening is about learning, don’t you think? Anyone who says they no longer have anything to learn about gardening – is lying. For me, that is part of the fun of gardening – how unpredictable plants can be. You never know what will happen
Noelle/azplantlady´s last blog ..Enjoying the Sun…..No Sunscreen Required
Noelle, you are so right. Wouldn’t it be boring if we weren’t constantly being challenged?
“If only their butterfly-shaped leaves could truly lift them higher, all would be well, and they could get growing in earnest.”–love this sentence
I hope a miracle does indeed happen.
Alisha´s last blog ..Breathe in the light, exhale the dark
That sentence might have been the heart of the post, Alisha. I’m so glad you liked it.
Our first house had dreadful sun-exposure. High mountain peaks, with tall trees on top of them, made for a very brief growing season. It is a challenge when you’re at the mercy of shade you can’t control.
By the way, I bestowed the ‘Honest Scrap’ award on you Meredith. I know some bloggers don’t accept awards (I usually don’t), but at the very least I wanted you to know that I love reading The Enchanted Earth.
Curbstone Valley Farm´s last blog ..Honest Scrap
Thank you so much for the award, CV. I am honored that you chose this blog, and I hope you know how much I enjoy reading your blog, as well.
I was thinking that very thing while reading your post – choosing your next place will have lots of focus on the the yard and how much light hits it.
My maternal grandparents had a perfect back yard for planting vegetables. It was long – the first half was grassy and full of pecan and fig trees. And then there was a good sized plot of land beyond that that was completely unshaded. They had the whole gamut of vegetables. I used to love walking the garden with him.
Lynn´s last blog ..Peeking out, hooky and basking
I can just picture a little Lynn, wandering beneath the pecan trees to emerge in the bright sun of the vegetable garden, hand in hand with your grandfather. Now if only F. and I can be so lucky as to find something similar…
Dear Meredith, Oh dear, there are always factors one does not take into account when one embarks on any form of gardening. One is always enthusiastic and then, I fear, in my experience, the reality is not quite as one imagined.
Edith Hope´s last blog ..Partying the Spring Away
I think that’s probably true of any endeavor we undertake while we live and breathe on this amazing planet, Edith. The glories of the imagination are fine at their job, I think, which is to get us on the road to the actual doing before we are dissuaded by a too-accurate accounting of potential costs.
And we have such a blast of heat, even now in autumn – that my ‘vegetable’ garden is Mediterranean herbs and 2 enthusiastic dandelions for salad greens. Have been too daunted to even TRY planting our hopeful packets of seeds in waiting.
Oh, Diana, I feel for you, I really do. When we had that terrible multi-year drought in Atlanta, I’d watch all my plants shrivel up one by one, no matter how hard I worked to keep them going in the blistering heat. Kudos to you for having the sense to only plant what you can sanely keep alive under such conditions!
Meredith –I regret the problems with sun. I usually have the opposite problem:~) I must say, however, that I loved the pictures. The second one of the snap pea sending out tendrils looks almost like a baby reaching her hand out to grab something…there’s a special tenderness to that picture to me:~)
I hope that the sun will cooperate with your garden. I look forward to visiting again and see more full grown pictures:~)
Sara´s last blog ..Picture Story: Season of Spring
Sara, the opposite problem can be a bugaboo, too. I’m so glad someone “got” that picture! I felt certain that the way the tendrils had curled around was too reminiscent of a hand for others not to notice, but you are the first to comment upon it.
We’ll have more full pictures any day now. The garden is filling in enough to be photogenic very soon — even when not photographed in macro, LOL.
Good luck to your peas! It is always an adventure to garden–will the tomatoes bear fruit before the summer heat and humidity kill them? Will the herbs drown in the summer rains? Will THIS be the year the pomegranate tree produces even one fruit? Hope springs eternal.
Kathy´s last blog ..I [Heart] Baseball
Thank you for the good luck wishes, Kathy. My peas hear and respond to all messages of goodwill.
This may seem a silly question, but do pomegranates need a pollinator to set fruit? You might need to plant your tree a lady friend…
How lovely.
I know they want to fly.
Perhaps they will.
Life longs for itself and maybe your butterfly winged peas will
adapt to the circumstances. I know you love them enough.
Grow little peas please.
PEACE PLEASE
gemma´s last blog ..
Aw, Gemma, that is so sweet. The peas send you peace, too! I do love them, you’re right, and I expect them to always do their best, as is their nature.
Meredith,
Those pots only have a few pea plants in them. Meg would have planted 50 peas in each pot. You want peas plant a lot of them>>>>>>>>> Ours are a foot tall and somewhat shaded. Last year we harvested more than 5 gallons in a 13 ft double row!
Randy´s last blog ..Trip to Bobbit’s Hole.
Randy, I did plant more than that, but had pretty poor germination, I suspect due to the two unseasonable snows (!) that came after our standard plant date. But I’d never have planted 50 to a pot. I wanted about 12 plants with plenty of root room, and I ended up with 6 to 8 per pot — and room to put in a few lettuce and mustard seeds for salads later.
Your harvest sounds amazing! I don’t think F. and I could begin to eat 5 gallons of snap peas. But perhaps I underestimate our capacities.
We struggle with the sun issue all the time here with the huge trees and the vast canopies. Containers are the only way I can get any decent veggie exposure and it involves a lot of shifting and lifting (which is good for the waistline and the biceps, I guess – lol!). Miracles do happen – especially in the garden and if anyone has a miraculous touch and deserving attitude it’s you, Meredith!
Talon´s last blog ..The Ghost in My House…
You are so kind, Talon. I do admire all your shifting and lifting (and likely would be wowed by your biceps, mine are still pitiful after the winter as I discovered when wielding the shovel again today) to get the sun needed to grow. I only lift large pots after rainstorms to empty those drainage saucers beneath — and sometimes I can’t even manage that and need F. to help. Thanks for the reminder that miracles do happen, and are perhaps likeliest to happen in the garden.
Meredith, I completely understand how this happened to you as I’ve experienced it many times. I’m having the same issue currently as I have a shady side yard that I’ve been filling with foliage. However, as the summer draws near, the sun sits higher in the sky for a longer portion of the day leaving less shade for my shade loving foliage. I hope they don’t get burned this summer! Regarding veggies, this is the reason I garden by container. Containers are the only way I’ve been successful with veggies.
kimberly´s last blog ..Rain Barrel – Just in Time!
I hate it when my shady plants get burned. Crossing my fingers that this doesn’t happen to yours this summer, Kimberly.
Unfortunately for me, I have a much less successful track record with gardening in containers; growing directly in the ground always produces a much better harvest for me than any other method, even raised beds. I’ve had reason to suspect it is because my grandfather was a farmer and so I learned to understand plants this way, with their roots firmly planted in the earth.