Native Son: Springtime

I thought I would share some thoughts from a friend of mine, Wendy Stoll, a talented landscape designer in Wimberley.

You think it would be the flower –
All wild flame and feather,
A riot of crimson reaching out in every direction.
But no – it’s the leaves that draw me in.
Lit from within,
deep green veined in burgundy,
they rise with silent power,
a cradle of calm
beneath the frenzy
They do not need applause.
They do not need to bloom.
They simply hold —
strong, certain,
letting the chaos unfold
above them.

And isn’t that love?
To steady the wild
without dimming its fire.
To stay rooted
so something else
can dance.
—Wendy Stoll

And, Steven rambles along…
Everybody keeps asking me what I’m growing this summer, yet they all look disappointed when I say, “Five cactus and a giant pile of compost.” Okay, here’s the deal…

Back in early 1978, my father and I chain-sawed a live oak log into a planter. I planted five cacti in it and it looked spectacular. Over the years, cacti came and cacti went, but the center cactus remained strong and solid. About ten years ago, a well-meaning volunteer removed it from the log. (I think she couldn’t imagine anyone would deliberately grow a cactus in a log.) Anyhoo, the cactus has been in a slow decline ever since and I finally decided to put the poor thing out of its misery.

But still, there’s that tip that looks salvageable…
So I grab a folding saw and try to get as much clean tissue as I can. I’m about halfway through a perfect (thank you!) cut when I notice my left hand feels kinda funny. I look over to see ants boiling out of the rotten part of the cactus. Perfect. Chapped me off enough to spray them with some roach killer (it works!), before I proceeded with my perfect cut.

A thought here: I prefer to use a medium-toothed saw when cutting cacti for propagation. In my humble opinion, a slightly rougher cut dramatically increases the surface area (vs a smooth cut) that will callous over and eventually grow roots.

For years, I have recommended that folks let their cut cacti slowly callous over in a shady area. Well, I did just the opposite this time. Put that lovely hunk of spiny love right out in the full sun … and with a fan on it, no less … for about two days. Callousing looks perfect… time to plant … sort of. Should probably shore up the log planter about now.

(Deadline! Photos of finished cactus log next month.)

At about two feet tall, this 50 year-old (I figure it was three when I planted it) cactus has seen better days.

At about two feet tall, this 50 year-old (I figure it was three when I planted it) cactus has seen better days.

Now, about this “giant pile of compost.” About a month back, a windstorm blew ‘bout half the leaves off the local live oaks overnight. Two days later, rows of those big, brown bags lined the curbs at some of my neighbors’ houses … and I got to thinking. Sure, I had made a compost pile from my leaves, sure, but there was 20 times that amount out on the street, awaiting trash/recycle day pick-up.

You guessed it … I was out at 3 a.m., smuggling leaf-filled bags into my back yard. First light, I went and got some 3 foot wire fencing. By noon, the giant compost bin was up and full. I even folded and returned those big bags. I stood back and looked at my creation … great googly-mooglies, what the Sam Hill have I done?

So here’s the deal. Live oak leaves are kinda famous for taking a long time to break down into compost, but I want to do it in six months or so. First, I shred/mince the leaves with a lawnmower and inoculate the pile with compost from last year’s pile. When the neighbors start bagging their grass clippings, I will add them to the pile and blend them in with my mini-tiller. Once this is all underway, I will fertilize the giant pile with organic fertilizer (not the fish products – I got neighbors). With regular watering, generous amounts of grass clippings, twice a month tilling, and that scalding Texas summer sun, I hope to cook this batch quick enough to use that finished compost to build some beds this fall. Wish me luck.

I did learn one new thing about building a compost pile during this project; there is simply no way to take an interesting photo of building a compost pile.

Many thanks to those who wrote to me after my father’s passing. One reader even shared a poem with me; now I’d like to share it with you.

Autumn Song

At twilight fell
the first bold leaf of Autumn,
Harbinger of change,
Herald of endings.
It lay across my palm,
a gift from the tree
I had nurtured,
and I pondered.
Was this, then, the culmination
of its purpose,
to spring forth, drink in the sun’s
sweet benison of life for but a season,
then fall,
unseen, unwept, unsung?
Yet, see! Its green is streaked with crimson,
A glory never seen ‘neath
spring or summer sky,
But only in this ending, this time
of seasons’ turning.
So to my questing heart there comes
a message,
Perhaps from One who made
all trees, and me, and thee,
That every life has beauty,
though we perish,
And I am to be mindful,
and through this leaf
learn hope, and joy, and peace.

10/3/2006 – Genny White – Plano, TX

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I need a road trip! Let me know if you’d like me to come and speak to your group sometime. I’m low maintenance, flexible, and you know I like to go just about anywhere. No city too big; no town to small. Just send me an e-mail at stevenchamblee@yahoo.com and we’ll work something out.