A Big Storm Knocked It Over
Like Fire wasn't the only thing that got its germination at BEA last May. I also, if you remember, picked up a bunch of seed packets—seed packets were popular giveaways in 2009—including these sunflower seeds from, appropriately enough, Columbia University Press.
I did in fact plant them on the weird elevated platform in front of my house, and not only did they grow but they grew HUGE. Every day for the past few weeks I meant to go out and take photos. Seriously, every day. They were monstrous and cheerful—you could see them from a block away. During the last two weeks of September I was vetting new tenants for the downstairs rental unit, and I always got a kick out of telling people who wanted to come see the place "It's the house with the sunflowers."
And then last Wednesday we had a big old windstorm. Tree limbs went down, chunks of the city lost power, and I came home to find my giant sunflowers broken, every one of them, hanging down with their faces to the sidewalk. I wasn't brokenhearted, though. They probably wouldn't have lasted another month, I had found a nice tenant for the apartment, and really—if that's the worst thing that happens to me all week, I'll take it.
The next evening I came home and even from the bottom of the hill I could see they were all gone. We live across the street from the neighborhood community center, and I figured some bored kids messing around after school must have pulled them out. But once inside I saw that Jeff had gotten home early and cut the survivors down to fit in a jar.
So that's it, summer's over. The cats are quite taken with the sunflowers, and every time I look at them (the flowers, that is) I think of Van Gogh. I turned the heat on last week. And off we sail into fall, and whatever the winter holds. Life is good.
I did in fact plant them on the weird elevated platform in front of my house, and not only did they grow but they grew HUGE. Every day for the past few weeks I meant to go out and take photos. Seriously, every day. They were monstrous and cheerful—you could see them from a block away. During the last two weeks of September I was vetting new tenants for the downstairs rental unit, and I always got a kick out of telling people who wanted to come see the place "It's the house with the sunflowers."
And then last Wednesday we had a big old windstorm. Tree limbs went down, chunks of the city lost power, and I came home to find my giant sunflowers broken, every one of them, hanging down with their faces to the sidewalk. I wasn't brokenhearted, though. They probably wouldn't have lasted another month, I had found a nice tenant for the apartment, and really—if that's the worst thing that happens to me all week, I'll take it.
The next evening I came home and even from the bottom of the hill I could see they were all gone. We live across the street from the neighborhood community center, and I figured some bored kids messing around after school must have pulled them out. But once inside I saw that Jeff had gotten home early and cut the survivors down to fit in a jar.
So that's it, summer's over. The cats are quite taken with the sunflowers, and every time I look at them (the flowers, that is) I think of Van Gogh. I turned the heat on last week. And off we sail into fall, and whatever the winter holds. Life is good.Labels: confessional, garden, weather
posted by Lisa at 3:50 PM
5 Comments:
The winds this week brought down all the curly brown pods of the locust tree in front of my building, and most of the pears on the backyard tree. Perhaps a dramatic death is better for your sunflowers than a long slow withering.
I've never been able to get sunflowers to grow here, maybe not enough light. I love them though at 8 feet or higher. We haven't had a frost yet and the cone flower and echinacea, while mostly laying down are still in full bloom. Sunflowers though, pure magic.
This jogged a fond memory. My cousin and I used to plant sunflowers each summer at my grandparent's house. We had a very slow race to see which cousin had the tallest plant. I don't recall ever declaring a winner at the end of the summer. They were so monstrous we were just in awe.
I love the picture! My cats are in awe of sunflowers whenever I have them in a vase - alas, not from a garden of my own.
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