Matthew Gallaway

Notes on Tree Care in Unforgiving Landscapes

1. The morning, as predicted, was rainy and windy. After listening to the dire weather reports, I half-expected to see a ten-foot wall of water barreling down Broadway, but it was just the usual array of soggy oak leaves and fluorescent light bulbs (not pictured) blowing across the sidewalk.

2. There was something apocalyptic about the birds circling in the sky. I wondered if they were as agitated as everyone else by the political climate. Had they registered to vote? Were the Republicans trying to keep them away from the polls? Were entrenched Democrats belittling this progressive wing of the party? You see how a mind works in these uncertain times.

3. To distract myself, I thought about the Acer pseudoplatanus leaves in the fountain. Did the autumn light make the water more reflective? It felt good to contemplate a politically benign question. I also knew it was a luxury not everyone could afford.

4. Earlier in the week, in related news, we had an appointment with an arborist. He admired the birch but agreed that it needed to be thinned. He turned his attention to the Acer pseudoplatanus. "Is that a variegated variety?" he asked. We assured him that it was, and he nodded his approval. We understood. Clearly the world -- even in the global-warming era -- did not need another Acer platanoides.

5. We have to get the birch trimmed every two years or the garden won't get enough light, even the shade plants.

6. Here's a closeup of the Acer pseudoplatanus. You can see how the shape of the leaf might arouse suspicion, particularly at this point of the year when the variegation has faded.

7. We used to hire a (cheaper) suburban tree company to trim the birch, but subsequently turned to a New York City-based arborist that specializes in small gardens and street trees. They trimmed everything perfectly and added some sort of magic (but organic) fertilizer to the trees that greatly improved their health. It was far from cheap, but we paid (sort of) happily, having learned the hard way that scrimping on tree care creates more problems than it solves (if you want living trees). (Like mass transit and public infrastructure.)

8. We won't do the actually pruning and fertilizing for another month or two, when the trees are dormant. For now, we have a plan.

9. Even the ivy looked happy.

10. As did the toad lily, which is the kind of plant that can make do with a little light but will always relish a bit more.

Is My Feed Working (Test)

Is my feed working? This is a test. 

Notes on Northern Skies

1. In this period of great uncertainty, it seemed important to find a few things that were dependable.

2. The mums, for example, were not exactly 'rare' or 'exotic' -- in fact, they arrived in disposable plastic pots -- but added some color to an otherwise dreary garden. I felt happy looking at them. Not everyone was feeling the love, however.

3. 'Mums are suburban and 'basic'." -- Clio

4. But in the right light, they looked perfect.

5. Global warming had changed the temperatures, it seemed, but not the angle of the sun.

6. Every day the sun was getting a little lower in the sky. There was less of it, but what arrived felt more beautiful.

7. By the winter it would be gone and everything would be perfect.

Notes on Late Bloomers (Toad Lilies)

1. After a brutal, dispiriting phase of existence, I went to the park, where I was happy to find the toad lilies in bloom.

2. They were not the only thing in bloom, but '[t]oad lilies bring an exotic flair to any fall garden' -- Better Homes and Gardens

3. I also like this late-blooming sedum, which I believe is called 'Autumn Fire.'

4. I'm always struck by the lack of urgency in the fall garden. You might think these late bloomers would be in a rush with winter pressing down, but they are serene and contemplative.

5. Or mostly serene and contemplative. Sometimes they remember the spring garden with a mix of disdain, embarrassment, and relief. 'Thank god I'm not a crazy daffodil or an arrogant tulip.' And -- if they're being honest with themselves -- a little jealousy, because early bloomers get so much more attention.

6. But mostly they are content to bring what they can to the garden before it shuts down.

7. Toad lilies, like many late bloomers, offer us the muted but refined beauty of acceptance and resignation, which we need after the exuberance of the spring garden has faded with our hopes.

 

Out of the Mainstream Into the Revolution (History Lessons)

1. I kept meeting people who claimed to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown. 'Does it ever end?' said everyone, wondering how we had arrived in this alternate hellscape in which the biggest meatheads from high school were now literally being confirmed to the Supreme Court and where Republicans, despite representing a solid minority of the population, were -- because of structural problems with our outdated Constitution -- constantly winning and getting angrier and angrier. 'What exactly do they want?' was another question I heard, the answer to which remains a mystery.

2. I escaped to the park, which despite the surreal temperatures and oppressive humidity seemed to be flourishing. 'Hang in there, park,' I said. 'It can't last forever.'

3. I thought about my mother, who had fought so hard in the 1970s for women's rights. I remembered when nasty trolls used to call her a 'women's libber,' which sounded annoyingly familiar. So many good words begin with 'lib' and Republicans detest them all.

4. She has reserves of optimism that I did not inherit. As I strolled through the park talking to plants and ghosts, she was organizing like-minded individuals at her senior center and canvassing for several candidates in Western Pennsylvania.

5. The thought of her knocking on doors in 'Trump Country' was troubling. One thing Republicans clearly seem to want is to put everyone in jail, so why would they make an exception for an 80-something?

6. My mother wasn't worried, however. After all, she had picketed the (Jimmy Carter) White House and had experienced Ronald Reagan's hands around her neck when she -- wearing a monkey suit -- greeted him at the Pittsburgh Airport on Halloween night before his winning election. 'You women don't know anything,' he screamed at her. #truestory

7. The episode again sounded very familiar in 2018. Did anything ever change?

8. My mother likes to focus on the fact that there are more (progressive) women running for office today than forty years ago, despite ongoing attempts by the Republican leadership to 'roll back the clock' to 1792, when only white men who owned a 'shitload of property' were allowed to vote.

9. A few years ago, she gave me a t-shirt from 'The Majority Caucus,' which was a faction, formed in 1975, of the National Organization for Women whose motto was 'Out of the Mainstream Into the Revolution.' Defending this idea, its leader Karen DeCrow explained: 'I stated, very clearly, all along, that what I wanted to do was not enter the mainstream in full partnership with men, but to change the mainstream.'

10. Forty years later, the motto seemed relevant.

11. I'll be wearing this shirt a lot, because I want to remember that some ideas -- unlike certain people -- never get old.