September is a time of beginnings, tucking in, getting to work, emerging from a season of living indoors in air-conditioned hibernation. The morning light is slowly shifting toward fall. I can finally be outside again in the early hours working on my garden. It is my New Year’s celebration, much like in Ethiopia where they observe this holiday by celebrating the harvest and transitioning to a new season. This has always resonated more with me than turning the page in the dead of winter.
September is usually a time of return. People who fled the heat of the city are back in town. School is back in session. Season ticket events are gearing up. This September is different, uncertain. The cultural markers are missing but the cycles of nature are a constant. Birds are beginning their migratory journeys, squirrels are busy building up their stores for winter, bodies of water are cooling, and the contrasts of morning, afternoon, and dusk are more apparent. Look to cues of nature for your compass this year.
Writing has always been like breathing to me. Words just flow down to my hand and onto the page. I decided to become a writer when I realized my writing could create the greatest change in people’s desire to protect the earth. My philosophy is that experiencing what is close around you in the natural world inspires you to protect and nurture this environment. My writing helps my readers develop their five senses in communing with nature, and builds a community of readers who recognize in each other this nurturing of the soul through nature. This is why I write.
Despite growing up in the desert (or maybe because of it), I have always felt a kinship with trees. The sound of wind in their branches, the shade they provide, their clear structure, the cooling shades of green, and earthy scents they release all fill my soul with peace. At least once a year I head to the mountains for tree time. It is essential to my happiness.
I started practicing Korean Breath Qigong Yoga to manage stress. Breath training is an essential part of this practice and promotes the natural balance of energy, with a warm belly and cool head. At a workshop this was likened to the energy balance of a tree: a tree gathers energy from the sun in its leaves and then sends this energy to its roots. When I heard the tree analogy, I knew I was in the right place for me. In my training I learned that the form of Qigong we practice unites heaven, earth, and humanity. I feel this balance most acutely when I am out in nature.
In Qigong training, tree posture is my favorite. This posture promotes a deep sense of peace in several ways. Pressing your palms together opens up your energy channels. Strengthening your legs is akin to strengthening the trunk of a tree since strength begins in your legs, much like the trunk of a tree. Breathing in through your lower belly, then breathing out to send this energy to your legs is the same as a tree sending nutrients to its roots. Feeling your feet firmly in contact with the ground literally grounds you, anchoring you to the present moment. In these moments, I often see clearly the next step in my path. Whenever I ask a question of the universe, the response is usually this: trees are the answer.
It is so peaceful and restorative to practice tree posture out in nature. In this posture, you are aware of the sunlight on your face, the characteristics of the air around you, the sound of the birds, the branches moving in a slight wind, and the smell of the trees and earth. For me, winter is my season of renewal. In the desert, hot temperatures last well into fall. When it is finally cool again (which seems like a miracle every year), I crave moments of quiet time to reconnect with the outdoors after being in an artificial environment for nearly six months.
Mini snowman I built on a log near Strawberry, AZ
My need for spiritual time in the cool quiet is at odds with a time of year that is stressful and hectic with preparation for the holidays. One year in mid-December I decided to take off for the forest. I abandoned my plans for the day and headed north to Strawberry, Arizona. I waffled on my decision all along the drive to Highway 87, but as soon as the mountains rounded into view with their snowy peaks I knew I made the right choice and I couldn’t stop smiling. I found a spot where families were sledding and building snowmen, and walked until I found a tree that spoke to me. I stood in front of this tree and stayed in tree posture for several minutes, taking in the cold air stinging my cheeks, the texture of snow beneath my shoes, the shift to a peaceful state of being. I gave thanks for this moment, then opened my eyes. I built a small snowman on a log before heading back to my car. On the drive home, I felt full of bright energy. The curves of the road matched the pace of the music as I sang along, feeling that all was right in the world.
I got certified to teach Breath Qigong Yoga with a vision to help veterans with PTSD. Tree posture is an essential component of class. Many veterans have compressed spines, and this posture helps open up channels along the back. In addition, it promotes a peaceful state of mind and I can sense when this shift happens. There is a complete stillness, akin to being in a forest. I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the opportunity to create this peaceful environment for others, inspired by trees.
Trees in Tree Posturenear Strawberry, AZ
Try tree posture the next time you are out in nature. Stand with your feet shoulder width apart and your feet pressed into the ground. You can also do this sitting in a chair, but keep your feet flat on the ground. Bend your knees as you are able. Place your palms pressed together in front of your heart, like in prayer. Relax your neck and shoulders but keep your chin level. Close your eyes. Breathe in slowly, expanding your belly, then breathe out slowly, sending all energy to your legs. Imagine you are a tree and your legs are the trunk of your tree. Continue this process for 2-3 minutes, focusing only on your breathing, no thought, no emotion. Just breathing, connecting with your true self and nature. You will be amazed at how calm you feel and empowered to take on any challenge.
(originally published on the Association of Nature and Forest Therapy blog July 2018)
My grandparents lived near the mountains of El Paso in the company of scorpions. My mild-mannered grandfather took scorpion stings personally. He would calmly trap the scorpion in a glass jar and fill it with alcohol. This is where he transformed into some kind of alter ego. After shaking the jar with a vengeance, he would empty it and track the woozy scorpion’s slow walk. Then he repeatedly stomped on the scorpion with a superhero’s strength.
The acorn does not fall far from the tree. I am personally affronted when I see a tomato hornworm feasting on the plants in my garden. That round mouth constantly moving as it devours leaves and stems without a break makes me instantaneously queasy and mad. While I initially feel squeamish about plucking it from the plant, I quickly get over it when the sense of injustice kicks in.
These caterpillars grow quickly and steadily in your garden. Tomato hornworms are bright green with a white-and-black diagonal pattern that spirals around their body.
A hornworm will grow from this
Hornworm in mint plant
To this
Hornworm in tomato plant
To this
Hornworm in pepper plant
In a matter of days.
There are a few clues you have hornworms: leaves that suddenly disappear; grey moths that flutter out from the garden when you water it; and pellets that look like peppercorns on the ground beneath a plant or on the plant itself (hornworm droppings).
Hornworm droppings on the groundHornworm droppings on the branch
The easiest non-toxic way to get rid of hornworms is to 1.Pluck 2. Flick 3. Squish.
Look for hornworms very early in the day, turning over leaves to look for worms on the undersides. I recommend wearing garden gloves and closed shoes. If you don’t catch them early on, hornworms grow to a size where they are impossible to pluck off the branch. In this case (or if your stomach turns at the thought of plucking them), cut off the branch where they are eating and flick the branch instead. Flick them in a direction away from the garden. Find a rock and place it on top of the worm, then stomp on it.
You can watch a video of this technique here:
How to get rid of tomato hornworms in 3 easy steps
Just a few more weeks, please
Of frosty early mornings
Of the cool quiet just after dawn
Of the echoing sounds without leaves on the trees,
All bare
A few more weeks of clear thinking
Of hearing the universe softly speaking
A few more weeks to smell snow from the north
Unexpected storms, polar energy
To leave windows open, deeply asleep
To feel long sleeves on my skin
Not bare
Fall is my favorite season. It is a time for tucking in, getting to work, and gathering together. Many cultures and religions have a time of reflection and celebration akin to the New Year holiday and this resonates with me in fall. Maybe it is because I can finally function again with cooler temperatures, or maybe because I am reconnected with nature, but I feel inspired and energized as soon as fall arrives.
Coffee tastes best on a cool crisp morning. The days finally have a rhythm to them, starting off chilly, warming in the afternoon, and cooling back down at night. It is a gift to sit outside, or go on meandering walks while listening to the trees.
My five senses are fully engaged in fall. I am aware of the distinct way sound carries in the cool air with that slight echo. I clearly hear the crisp sound of leaves crunching underfoot. The snick of the match to light a candle combines with my sense of smell most keenly when lighting a jack-o’-lantern. And my hearing is tuned in to the call of owls just after day turns to dusk.
Fall brings a cornucopia of flavors. I love the tart tastes of apples, pomegranates, and cranberries. Pumpkins and other squash can be sweet or savory,
a rich variety. Soups and stews are packed with complex flavors and nutrients stored up from the summer. This is the time of year when vegetables
really shine.
Fall is a feast for the eyes. The sky is a vivid blue against the complementary colors of fall leaves. The warm reds, oranges, browns, and yellows are both energizing and nurturing. The glow of a fall leaf lit by the sun makes me feel fully alive. It is a life lesson in staying in the present moment. I appreciate nature’s design in pumpkins, leaves, and acorns.
The richness of smell is most present in fall. Scents of cinnamon, fallen leaves, wood smoke, or something simmering on the stove make me feel connected to an ancient energy that can’t be destroyed by current rhetoric. Nature will always be there.
The sense of touch is alive in fall too. Working again in the garden, picking up fall leaves and pine cones, baking, using my hands for projects all revive my sense of touch. The feel of long sleeves and layers being added or removed define time in a tactile, organic way.
Every season has a gift, and fall’s gift is a time of renewal for all five senses.
Summer is stifling, sweating, suffering, swimming, surviving. It is also monsoon season which is the only break in the monotony of searing hot days. For most of the country this is a time to luxuriate in the outdoors. Here in the desert, life is lived in an artificial environment indoors. Air conditioning is not good for the immune system yet I can’t live here without it. I am cut off from the sounds of nature and only see it through windows. This is not a time of relaxation. It is a time of survival.
When a high ridge of pressure moves in and the heat seeps through the triple-pane windows, it feels like a force in the universe is trying to put an end to my existence. I suffer when out in the heat. One hour outdoors in 95+ degrees and my nerve endings register pain. For one week after I ache all over and I can’t connect two thoughts. My schedule is upended as I race to get all errands done by 10 a.m. as the local weather anchor advises. Once home there is a small window of time to get things done before exhaustion sets in as my system prioritizes sending energy to cool my core.
Summers here are lived like winters in the rest of the country. Daily tasks require a strategy to be home before the extreme heat hits along with the maximum UV index, meaning your skin will burn within 15 minutes. The stinging sensation is palpable even when in a car with tinted windows. Energy bars are liquified by the time I cross the parking lot. Forget chocolate or ice cream.
What is left of my garden gets watered at odd hours, ideally when the sun is not out. Because the plumbing runs through the attic, water out of the cold tap is hot most of the day and well into the night. Laundry on cold has to be done very early in the day or with ice cubes in the washing machine.
It used to cool off in the evenings, giving the body a break overnight. Not so now. The resulting heat island effect from greedy development means that heat is trapped in all concrete and paved-over surfaces, radiating back into the atmosphere at night. There used to be a few tough weeks. Now it is a few tough months. Five months is a lot to ask of my air conditioner, electric bill, patience, and immune system.
There are only two good things about summers in the desert: swimming and monsoon storms. The 4th of July usually involves competing fireworks: patriotic celebrations and lightning inside storm clouds. I can see the progression of a storm as thunder clouds build up during the day. The smell of rain in the distance is tantalizing, though storms often fizzle out at the city outskirts. I love a good thunder and lightning show, even if I yelp after a solid strike and boom of thunder. Haboobs, or dust storms, are more sinister. They are a blizzard of dust and extremely dangerous when encountered on a road trip.
Every season has a gift, but all I can say for this one is eventually it will be fall.
I grew up eating Hatch chili from New Mexico, so it is no surprise I planted peppers in my garden. The local nursery was selling the Big Jim variety so I decided to give them a try. Big Jim peppers are on the small side but pack a lot of heat. After tasting one sliver I was reaching for the honey.
Peppers can grow in containers just as well as in garden beds. Give them enough room and fertilizer, though. Pepper plants will branch out over a large area if not pruned back. Look for the joint of a new branch and use shears to cut just below this joint. If there are too many branches and leaves all energy will go into these parts of the plant instead of growing fruit. Like with basil be sure to trim no more than 30 percent at one time as this stresses the roots.
Even with regular trimming, pepper plants will need stake support especially when the fruits develop. The branches become so heavy that they can snap. You can find small stakes for this at the nursery. I’ve also re purposed chopsticks. When harvesting the fruits, use shears to cut the peppers just above where the stem is attached. This helps the peppers last longer and minimizes damage to the plant. The more they mature and turn color, the more they develop their flavor.
Peppers love the sun and do well in hot summers. They also love plenty of water. Feed them fertilizer regularly (they like liquid tomato fertilizer). A good rule of thumb is every two weeks when the fruits first appear. Once the fruits mature back off a bit on the fertilizer or else you will be feeding the stems and leaves.
Pepper plants, despite their abundance of branches, can be stripped overnight by a tomato hornworm. I was astonished to walk out one morning and find my pepper plant reduced to what looked like sticks. Unlike when my basil plant was similarly devoured, I could not find the culprit and seek vengeance. I recommend doing inspections early in the morning by turning the leaves over and looking for those bright green squiggles of destruction. I also recommend keeping pepper plants in their own containers and at a distance from each other so that you aren’t planting an all-you-can-eat buffet.
Characteristics: Grow equally well in containers and garden beds; Benefit from frequent trims; Need stake support Water: Plentiful water and fertilizer Sun: Love being in the sun Companions: Basil; Onions; Spinach; Tomatoes; Chives; Carrots; Chard; Lettuce; Radishes; Oregano Enemies: Brassica
Marigolds act as the pest police. They repel garden attackers without the chemicals and are helpful in keeping away carrot flies. They are also tasty in salads. They are known for taking over, but I have not had an issue with this. Look for the scented variety when selecting marigolds for your garden.
Marigolds like soil that is not too damp, so they got planted near the thyme in the raised garden. Water at the base and let dry between waterings (except in summer). Well-drained soil is preferable. For reasons unknown to me, my marigolds suddenly wilted and died. I have planted new marigolds from seeds and am waiting to see how they do. Intriguingly, the seed packet says they are best planted when there is a low pressure system.
Characteristics: Pest police; Prefer well-drained soil Water: Water at base; Let dry between waterings (except summer) Sun: Can survive hot summers Companions: Just about everyone Enemies: Beans; Cabbage
Rosemary is a symbol for remembrance, but it could just as easily symbolize independence. I lived in a house with rosemary in the backyard that was never watered yet thrived. Rosemary will take over any living space, so it is best planted in its own container with well drained soil or in a patch of ground. Plant near carrots and it will deter pesky carrot flies. Similar to basil, rosemary likes a good trim now and then, but be careful as rosemary can be prickly to handle. Rosemary does well in all seasons here in the southwest.
I re-purposed an empty spice jar by filling it with dried rosemary from the garden. Like thyme, rosemary can be dried by placing it on a baking sheet and left overnight in the oven.
Characteristics: Low maintenance; Takes over any space; Prefers well drained soil; Likes a haircut Water: Needs very little Sun: Loves sun or shade (really, it will grow anywhere) Companions: Cabbage; Beans; Carrot (deters carrot flies); Sage Enemies: None
Coffee tastes best on a cool crisp morning. The days finally have a rhythm to them, starting off chilly, warming in the afternoon, and cooling back down at night. It is a gift to sit outside, or go on meandering walks while listening to the trees.
Fall is a feast for the eyes. The sky is a vivid blue against the complementary colors of fall leaves. The warm reds, oranges, browns, and yellows are both energizing and nurturing. The glow of a fall leaf lit by the sun makes me feel fully alive. It is a life lesson in staying in the present moment. I appreciate nature’s design in pumpkins, leaves, and acorns.
