The California heat returned again last week, reminding us quickly that summer is not yet over. Squash and chard leaves wilted under the withering sun, bees hummed loudly, and our colony of Western Fence Lizards sunbathed eagerly on the wood chip paths. It’s normal and okay for thin-leafed plants like squash and chard to wilt slightly on hot days, even with adequate water; the transpiration of water evaporating from their leaves is more than what they can drink from the soil. Normally they recover fine come sundown, although prolonged heat waves can cause burning like they did here. Indeed, midsummer heat this year was quite brutal; as recorded in San Josée, July saw average temperatures a full 5°F hotter than July last year, with almost half of the days recording highs over 90°F. Hot indeed, especially for those of us working in the garden!
Yet late in August, we had our first real hint of fall. The fog rolled in from the coast and a few days saw a thick layer of stratocumulus clouds giving us a wide, cool hug. We felt a few spits of drizzle falling from the sky, moistening the garden flowers and releasing their aromas to the breeze. There is some Sweet Wormwood growing in one of the hedges that smells wonderful on these cool mornings; if you elbow your way past the sunflowers and amaranth, you can drink up its sweet herbaceousness by shoving your face right into its feathery leaves. And while you’re there, run your hands through the Black Cherry Tomato leaves and the Genovese Basil that are both in that hedge as well. Nothing smells more to me like late summer than some tomato leaves brushed gently across your skin.
Stepping back to the paths, and speaking of the sunflowers and amaranth, it’s wonderful to see how well they grew this year as tall, colorful pillars of the garden. The Amaranth was such a deep brilliant red and greeted me with joy every time I walked into the garden this summer. It’s hard to identify specific types of sunflowers since there are so many, but one variety grew dozens of small heads so tall and wide that they blocked many of the paths around the garden rings! Another type is hard to identify because I saw the seed head get gnawed off and carried away by a ground squirrel. Turns out sunflower seeds are pretty tasty for all creatures. It’s the perennial problem of growing food in a garden; turns out, all animals are attracted to food. We lost a couple of pumpkins to somebody gnawing through their tops, the bean seedlings got chomped in the bean tipi, and somebody’s been persistently nibbling at the chard. I haven’t gotten a close enough look at the cottontail that visits frequently, but it’s likely a Brush Rabbit which is common around these parts.
Thankfully, despite those frustrations, we were able to harvest many bunches of sweet grapes from the grapevines as an afternoon treat for the summer campers this year. And several of the Sweet Marketmore Cucumbers were chilled and sliced for the campers’ cool snack on a hot day. Through this we can see that life in the garden is strong, and we tend it as best we can for what it is and where we are. As best a metaphor for life as the garden can provide.As we start the school year, I am grateful to this wonderful garden that was built with so much strength and care by those before me. Its flowers peek over the fence and greet all those who arrive on campus. Its strong healthy soils grow so many species of flora, and the gazebo invites anybody to sit and enjoy some shade. As always, there is a lot of work to do; dead poppy stalks to chop down, undesired grasses to pull from the beds, irrigation lines to shuffle here and there, and larger projects on the docket like a water feature and play structure. But the garden welcomes all at whichever stage of life it’s in, and whichever stage of life you’re in. Come walk through the gate, sit for a spell, and listen, see, smell, and breathe. May its calm help guide you in finding yours.
See you in the garden!
Top image: Red Amaranth streaks skyward in the summer garden. Amaranthus cruentus
Chilled California Wild Grapes were thoroughly enjoyed by the summer campers on hot days. Vitis californica
The late summer California garden is a mix of drought tolerant flowers like Sunflower and Amaranth, earlier blooms gone to seed like dried Poppy stalks and the tall Sweet Wormwood in the center, and just general untamed chaos.
A pink-tinged Cosmos flower lends a bit of elegance to a summer garden. Cosmos bipinnatus
This dry-loving shrubby Aster is often called the European Michaelmas Daisy. Aster amellus
Amidst the hustle and bustle of Silicon Valley, the serene oasis of our beloved garden lies on our Los Altos campus. Our garden is an important part of the curriculum, as well as a community space, regularly used by our students, teachers, and parents. Frequent campus visitors may have noticed a lot of changes in the garden over the last couple of years. Our gardening teacher Claire has taken hold of the project with a clear vision, determination, and a whole lot of hard work. I recently had the opportunity to sit down with Claire to uncover the journey behind this transformation.
It began with the realization that our older garden boxes were falling apart, prompting the need for a fresh start. However, after removing the boxes, instead of rushing into action, Claire took a step back to reflect on what the garden and our community truly needed. It was a moment of pause and contemplation to ensure that our efforts would be meaningful and sustainable in the long run.
One of the pressing issues Claire identified was the soil quality – predominantly clay, causing it to dry out quickly, especially during the dry and hot summer months despite having irrigation. It was clear that a fundamental change was needed to address this challenge. WSP parent Nienke had previously suggested the concept of Hügelkultur to Claire, at a time when implementation of such a concept was not possible due to the garden’s layout. However, after removing the boxes Claire revisited the idea and saw its potential to revolutionize our soil management. The Hügelkultur approach involved removing cubic yards of clay soil and replacing it with logs, compost, and topsoil. This innovative method will not only help the garden retain moisture but also improve soil fertility, laying a solid foundation for future growth.
Claire envisioned the garden as more than just a space for plants and her classes – she wanted it to be a venue for healing and community, which is another big change. Drawing inspiration from San Diego State University’s Healing Garden, she incorporated a circuitous walking route, providing teachers and students with a tranquil space to walk for reflection. She felt it is important to create an environment where everyone feels welcome. The clear delineation of planting areas and walking paths will help keep the plants safe from feet.
None of these remarkable changes would be possible without the hard work of her gardening students and our dedicated WSP parent volunteers. During the Wednesday morning and weekend Family Garden Work Days, the helpers have rolled up their sleeves and worked tirelessly alongside Claire, turning her vision into reality. Their contribution goes beyond mere assistance – it’s a beautiful expression of community spirit, and Claire is filled with gratitude.
As the garden’s transformation continues to unfold, there remains a need for additional support. Wednesday Volunteer mornings are still available to sign up for in Konstella, and Claire wants to make sure that all parents know they are welcome, regardless of which campus their child attends. She also seeks assistance in building structures and undertaking painting projects, offering a diverse range of tasks beyond traditional gardening duties.
Our campus garden stands as a testament to the power of vision, collaboration, and community. Under Claire’s guidance, it has blossomed into a vibrant, inclusive space where nature thrives, and bonds are forged. As we continue to nurture and cultivate our garden, let us remember that its beauty lies not only in its blooms but in the collective effort and passion that sustains it. Thank you to Claire for leading this vision, our garden volunteers, and to our Los Altos campus grades students for creating this beautiful space for the WSP community.
Many crows gather early every morning under a large oak where I live. They take advantage of the cars squishing the acorns that fall in the residential parking lot and driveway. A number of gray and black squirrels busily scurry around the trees’ bounty, too. Similar acorn enthused activity is taking place on our Mountain View campus among its oak trees in the middle school courtyard. Deciduous trees are shedding their leaves. Plants are generally withdrawing from their outward spring and summer growth, as if retreating back into the Earth. We’ve had our first frosts in the garden, which seem to herald that the formative, crystalline forces will rule for the months to come, rather than the curvy biomorphic forms of the dynamic growth forces of the warmer months.
Many biodynamic (BD) farmers capitalize on the shift of energies into the earth during this time of year. Compost yards fill up with new piles of biomass to ferment and transform over the winter. The digesting activity of blooms of countless microorganisms (trillions per “handful” of now steaming biomass) heat up the compost heaps.
Pictured above is a recently created “fresh” compost pile of several cubic yards of biomass (approximately 10’x5’x5’), which will probably yield a couple of yards of finished compost.
As if to confirm the legitimacy of the compost thermometer, many students often thrust their hands into the compost heap to feel it for themselves. (We always wash our hands after every gardening class.) They can attest that things are heating up even though the days are getting cooler. In the Spring, wheelbarrows of transformed compost humus will return to the school’s garden beds to enliven our clay soils and join with the plants in their dance of photosynthesizing the sun.
Many BD farms craft a specialized compost made from cow manure. Students are pictured here taking turns “stirring” fresh manure and mixing it with pulverized egg shells, rock mineral dusts, and diatomaceous earth. It all got buried in a brick-lined pit where the five BD compost preparations—made from chamomile, yarrow, dandelion, nettle, oak bark, and valerian—were added. When this all eventually turns to humus it will become a unique compost concentrate, which will be an incredible catalytic aid for the formative and growth forces of the living realm of our campus. We eagerly look forward to putting it to good use!
Amidst the hustle and bustle of Silicon Valley, the serene oasis of our beloved garden lies on our Los Altos campus. Our garden is an important part of the curriculum, as well as a community space, regularly used by our students, teachers, and parents. Frequent campus visitors may have noticed a lot of changes in the garden over the last couple of years. Our gardening teacher Claire has taken hold of the project with a clear vision, determination, and a whole lot of hard work. I recently had the opportunity to sit down with Claire to uncover the journey behind this transformation.
