Whenever the heat and humidity let up, I try to spend time outdoors. I may only sit for a while on the porch or wander out to the herb gardens, but I know it is important to spend time outside. For years, I have known (and written about) how time outside and observing nature benefit human beings physically, mentally, and spiritually. Even so, between weather, life, and general outlook, I do not take the time as often as I should.
We have not had time or energy for a vegetable garden the last few years, so the dedication required for that doesn’t draw me out as often as it once did. This season, I have fallen behind in yard maintenance and have done little to maintain the garden and herb beds. Add in the rainy days and the humidity, and this lack of consistent upkeep has let nature take over.
Those who maintain a yard know that even a few extra days will let the grass get tall and gangly, the weeds and wandering plants encroach upon manicured gardens. Wild berry vines and Autumn Olive will spread across unkept fields and hillsides, and trees and bushes pop up here and there. Forever and always, these hills want to take over human intentions to keep them under control.
Over the years, I have also made note of regional patches of kudzu in the area, thankful that none grows here on the farm. Kudzu can grow a foot a day, and many small patches first noticed years ago now spread for miles along the roadside. Likewise, small patches of bamboo in the area have become thick thatches that lie down or fall over in storms and under snow.
In the same manner, ants, rabbits, and deer have been more pest than any pleasure this year. The cat does her best to keep the rabbits in check, but no many how many nests she raids and bloody babies she brings in, they still run rampant. The deer ate my hostas early in the season, when the rains prevented me from keeping them sprayed. And the tiny ants that enjoy the sandy spots in and around the yard seem determined to move inside.
Nature is feral. It is not happy or content to be domesticated or cultivated. Nature, no matter our efforts, cannot be controlled. And we tend to forget that nature weilds power.
I do not know how anyone who pays any attention to the natural world can deny climate change. The gardening season has shifted, the seasons are not as familiar and consistent as they once were. Invasive plants now winter over here, and flooding in Texas, New Mexico, North Carolina, and West Virginia reflects how storms are becoming more intense.
In addition, these extreme flood events are showing that flood maps across the nation are out of date and misleading. Over the past 20 years, terms like “100-year flood” have turned into 500-year and 1,000-year concepts. Combine the misleading flood plain designations with the record-breaking water levels, and we see record-setting devastation and death.
The stories and images coming out of Texas show the true power of nature, the true power of water. But I am reminded of this power when I yank on stilt grass that has spread through the mulch in my herb garden. How the tentacles reach out and root again. I am reminded of nature’s unrelenting intentions as the blackberry vine patches spread across the hillsides. How insidious they are, sending sprouts out yards away from the main growth.
Nature is diligent — human beings are not.
I learned many years ago that the floodplain designations in our region are extremely out of date. I also learned that updated maps and designations don’t make folks happy. More homes and properties are designated with flood risks, insurance rates increase, and property values decrease. And now the federal government wants to decrease its role in recovery from these disasters, and has cut funding and jobs for the organizations that warn us of extreme weather.
Come to know the water flow in your region. Just as the weeds and vines and invasive species want to take over the yard and gardens, water wants to reclaim the valleys - even if only for a few hours or days or moments. Don’t rely on flood maps or floodplain ordinances, or warnings before, or assistance after.
Know your regional water flow, and plan it to rise. As much as you need to weed and mow, you need to learn the water, and where uphill you can go.