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Helen Chesnut’s Garden Notes: Much put on hold during the heat wave

Early summer has been more than a little weird this year. At mid-June, nights remained chilly. Driving rains pounded seedlings and new transplants into the ground.

Early summer has been more than a little weird this year. At mid-June, nights remained chilly. Driving rains pounded seedlings and new transplants into the ground. A week later, young transplants and seedlings were frying in unseasonably hot sunlight and temperatures well into the 30s — in my garden, up to 35 C.

It is most unusual, even rare, for temperatures to rise so high in June. I’ve recorded such high temperatures only three times in the past seven years — and in July, not June. The temperatures were 30 C, 31 C, and 32 C. Conditions vary from region to region, though, and some inland valleys will have recorded higher summer temperatures.

Except for watering, weeding and mulching, much was put on hold during the heat wave. Too hot to seed or transplant. The handy among us will have improvised various sorts of shading arrangements over heat-sensitive plantings while cucumber, melon and squash plants lapped up the heat and leapt into active growth.

It was the earliness as well as the intensity of the heat that hit some plants hard. The heat damaged some berry crops, and shortened their harvesting period.

In our west coast climate, gardeners are accustomed to a long and benevolently gentle passage into summer. Not this year.

Strawberries, baked and buried. I put considerable effort into the strawberry plot in the spring. I weeded the planting, and thinned the plants by pulling out the oldest, that is the ones with the thickest “necks.” Then I mulched around the plants with a rich compost, and covered the compost with a thin layer of wood shavings to keep the plants from being soil-splashed in the rain.

Once the berry clusters formed and the berries began to develop, I lifted them up and placed an airy cushion of straw under each cluster to allow the berries to swell and ripen in clean, dry conditions.

That was the plan. Then came two short, fierce bouts of rain that pounded down on the garden. In one of them, I measured 10 mm of rain in 30 minutes.

That rain drove many of the berry clusters right through the straw and into the ground. Most were retrievable, and the berry patch was yielding a more than decent harvest when an unexpected five-day heat wave came along. During those days, the food garden was redolent of strawberries roasting in the sun.

We who grow our own berries relish the fresh, sweet juiciness of a just-picked, sun-warmed strawberry. A hot, baked berry — not so much. At least the bulk of the picking had been done. Not so lucky with the raspberries.

For the birds. For weeks I’d observed with interest a nuthatch pecking away at a tall snag across a pathway from the kiwi vines. It appeared she was setting up a nest inside. I’d see her often at a small, oval opening.

I’d not thought much more of the bird activity until the second day of the heat wave, the last Sunday in June.

Early that morning, before the heat became unbearable, I ventured out to gather lettuce and endive for the evening’s salad, pick sweet peas and strawberries, prune the tomatoes, and do some watering.

All the while, two adult nuthatches were chattering around me as they flew about, stopping to perch atop wire fencing that supports the staking tomatoes, cucumbers, runner beans, peas and sweet peas.

I soon realized they were overseeing a fledgling that was at one point floundering about on top of a large, soft, red oakleaf lettuce plant.

They were most attentive parents, hovering over their baby, chattering all the time as the small bird careened around the food garden. Those birds remain active in the back garden. They’re the family the nest builder had been preparing for.

On the last day in June, I strolled into the area to observe them, and came instead across a pair of quail softly clucking their way across the back garden fenceline. I expect that, before long, they’ll be followed by a line of little fluff-balls on legs as they create a family that will be guided about with care, one parent flying ahead to check the way is clear and safe for them to proceed on their way. I never fail to stop and watch their careful passage through the garden.

hchesnut@bcsupernet.com