Herb garden a hot potato with Center Street passersby

Two years ago was a dry year. A majestic old spruce outside our kitchen window began dying from the top. I consulted the extension forester. Then I talked to a USU silviculturist. Then I asked a friend with a half-century of tree experience to look at it. When more water didn’t work, we took out about 20 feet of the top. Next year, even with TLC and modern chemicals, the tree died. My tree expert friend felled the towering giant the day before he went to New York for his 50th high school graduation reunion.

Jenny campaigned for me to move her shaded-out herb garden from the back yard to a spot outside our kitchen door. Instead of replanting a tree, I tilled up an area for a mixed flower, herb and vegetable garden. I modified the sprinkler system to water the garden.

I expected some problems. The soil is well drained, with good texture and is inherently fertile. But 70 years of conifer leaves and a thick needle layer dropped as the tree died could bring problems with germination and growth inhibitors. Chips and sawdust from grinding out the stump and huge roots left woody material that would use up nitrogen as they decomposed. But I figured an old farm boy whose career was working with plant communities and a bag of fertilizer could take care of that.

What I didn’t expect was the social, cultural and political implications of my action. We live on a corner, and almost everyone who walks or drives by has an opinion.

I went to the nursery a few blocks south to get a flat of pansies for a border around the plot. The lady who waited on me said they had been wondering what I was up to. She congratulated me on endorsing the movement to raise vegetables during the economic recession. She suggested I use a coupon to save money on the plants I bought. I thanked her and mumbled something about victory gardens during WWII. I didn’t tell her my garden was a mourning tribute to a dead tree. Or that Jenny wanted herbs outside her window.

I began moving herbs from the back yard to the plot. I put surplus plants and volunteer seedlings in everything from cottage cheese containers to last year’s nursery pots. Most I sat by the sidewalk for strollers to take home.

A neighbor stopped as I was transplanting chives into the new garden. She congratulated me on going “organic.” She commented on compost I had added and the “deadly” effects of commercial fertilizer. For a while, I just listened. Then I explained that even though the soil was fertile, I was doing a balancing act with ammonium sulfate and urea to get a more rapid breakdown of the woody waste and make nitrogen available to the plants.

That was a mistake. I might as well have told her I was side dressing my plants with Italian nuclear waste from EnergySolutions. But she took away some chives, oregano and mountain bluet I potted from my back yard.

A person has to be open to science before he can understand it. My neighbor believes chemical fertilizers are bad. Period. It doesn’t matter what scientists find. At the recent Western Governors Conference, outgoing Chairman Jon Huntsman endorsed the need to take action to slow down climate change. Secretary of Energy Stephen Chu (1997 Nobel Prize Winner in Physics) gave the governors detailed information on the severity of the problem and the need for urgent action.

Utah governor designate Gary Herbert told reporters that he questioned climate change. He said “show me the science.” The Salt Lake Tribune reported that Herbert did not attend the Nobel Physic winner’s speech on the subject. When decisions about growing vegetables or governing a state are made with a person’s belief rather than science we’re in big trouble.

A Republican friend accused me of growing a garden to support Michelle Obama’s patch of greens on the White House lawn. I denied that. But I pointed out I was using the metal stakes from my Obama signs to support tomato plants a friend gave me. Mr. Republican left taking with him a Boston Ivy, four Echinaecia plants and a big smile.

To get around those suspected natural inhibitors, I used both seeds and transplants of several species. Zinnias I planted as seeds have now surpassed the foot-tall specimens transplanted at the same time. But neither seedlings or transplants of okra are doing well. That is probably due to cool weather. And my stubbornness in planting okra in this climate. Many of us let desires trump science in things cultural.

When my garden space filled, I put about 50 potted plants on the park strip by my house with a sign: “Free — Gratis. Take the plants you want. Give them a home.” Plants began to leave before I had the last one out. All were gone by the next morning.

It’s sad that it takes a nationwide financial crisis to cause people to plant more gardens. And I agree that a vegetable garden on the White House lawn may grow more photo ops than potatoes. But if a recession caused by corporate greed or a political statement by a popular first lady cause gardens to spring up throughout our country, that’s OK.

Growing things by tending the soil builds community and increases understanding. If I never get a pod of okra or a Pitkin heirloom tomato from my garden, visits with those who stop to chat will make me a better neighbor. That is tribute enough for a dead spruce tree.

from http://hjnews.townnews.com/