August Lanes

Woke up early on Sunday morning, August 18th, to the rumbling of a thunderstorm. As I laid in bed among the lightening and the rain pelleting against the window, I recalled summer thunder storms when I was a child on my family's farm.  One was especially spectacular with a loud clap of thunder and a bolt of lightening that lit up the bedroom and shook the house. Afterwards, my mother discovered that the bolt split a nearby tree and injured a young heifer that took shelter under the tree. The heifer (immature cow) had an unsteady gait and appeared in a daze. The owner of a small slaughter house picked her up the next day. Several days later we had various cuts of beef stored in a walk-in locker at the local cheese factory. If at all possible nothing was wasted on that farm.

This unpleasant recollection contrasts with Edgar Albert Guest's poem praising August. Guest, an American poet, was popular in the first half of the 20th century and known as the People's Poet. I just noticed that he was born on August 20th, 1881 and died on August 5th, 1959. Perhaps his birth date influenced his praise of August in this poem.

Down The Lanes Of August

Down the lanes of August—and the bees upon the wing, 

All the world's in color now, and all the song birds sing;
Never reds will redder be, more golden be the gold,
Down the lanes of August, and the summer getting old.

Mother Nature's brushes now with paints are dripping wet,
Gorgeous is her canvas with the tints we can't forget;
Here's a yellow wheat field—purple asters there,
Riotous the colors that she's splashing everywhere.

Red the cheeks of apples and pink the peaches' bloom,
Redolent the breezes with the sweetness of perfume;
Everything is beauty crowned by skies of clearest blue,
Mother Earth is at her best once more for me and you.

Down the lanes of August with her blossoms at our feet,
Rich with gold and scarlet, dripping wet with honey sweet.
Rich or poor, no matter, here are splendors spread
Down the lanes of August, for all who wish to tread.

So far the lanes of August has been pleasant. On the 11th, Ann and I traveled to Pulaski and celebrated my sister Barbara's 80th birthday. A good friend made the cake.

Barb's immediate family (three sons and one daughter, their spouses and some of her grandchildren, and great grandchildren) attended along with my older brother Tom, his wife Todd, my older sister, Theresa, another older sister, Angie, her husband, Kirt, and my younger brother, Louie. His wife Corine was unable to attend. Ann and I missed her company.  

My oldest brother, 89 year old Mike, didn't attend because he is successfully recovering from risky intestinal surgery. A tough choice between surgery or hospice. I celebrate his fortitude and his good fortune. He has traveled many lanes of  Augusts.  

Like our Grandmother, Julia, Mike was a vegetable gardener. His specialty was pumpkins which he sold. As a youngster, I remember visiting his garden and those flat wagons full of pumpkins. Mike built most of his first home, as well as the one he currently hopes to return to after his stay at a Green Bay rehabilitation center.  

Mike and his wife, Betty, who died in 2017, are blessed with eight loving children. They along with their spouses have supported Mike through his life threatening ordeal. This Friday, we will attend one of Mike's grandson's wedding in Hilbert, Wisconsin. Grandpa Mike may be there, but I doubt if he will be dancing with his granddaughters, like he did at last year's wedding of a granddaughter, Katie.

Another pleasant lane was a visit to "The Three Sisters Garden," a short walk from our apartment and on UW Arboretum land. This traditional Native American Indian garden consisting of corn, beans and squash. Madison area tribal communities in coordination with UW-Madison Arboretum and Department of Horticulture, planted the garden. 

Native American Indians planted these types of gardens long before the arrival of colonists. They are unlike the neatly plowed rows and fields of  most vegetable gardens. In this one the seeds were planted in furrows plowed across a field of grasses.The grasses between rows are regularly mowed.  

The homemade scare crow is a nice touch. I assume that the bags covering some of the corn tassels support pollination.  

A tour of several prairies along or near the Southwest Path with Sandy was yet another pleasant August lane. Sandy and I co-chair the Dudgeon-Monroe Neighbor Association Garden Path Committee.  We had a perfect Wisconsin day with blue skies, gentle breezes and comfortable temperatures. The first visited site is a short distance off the Southwest Path and bordering the Odana Golf Course.  I was familiar with this prairie but never appreciated that it covered several acres.   

The second site, tended by Bonnie, was a short stroll heading West on the Southwest Path and surrounds the bike bridge that crosses the Beltline. Another beautiful and impressive prairie. While strolling down the Path between the two sites, I learned more about Sandy's Texas roots.  

We took the car to the Crawford-Marlboro-Nakoma Neighborhood Butterfly Garden which is near the Beltline, surrounded by a pedestrian bridge and not on the Southwest Path. I felt like I was in a sheltered and peaceful amphitheater with the busy Beltline just over the horizon. The kidney shaped prairie was ablaze with color and radiating serenity in the midst of urbanity.  

I met several volunteers who were busy weeding. Spray paint outlined a planned rain garden. This  last Sunday morning Sandy told me that installation began August 17th. We chatted while returning a bag of gloves which I thought I needed for our Saturday Prospect Gardens work session. 

The Saturday crew came with gloves. Here's most of the crew starting with Mary on the right (lower step), then me, Laura, Joyce; Erich and Jody are on the second step.On the back step are Loren (with the hat) and Steve. Hanns arrived later. We are on break enjoying Ann's homemade date bars. She's taking the picture.

Hanns had returned at 1:30 am from a trip to Hawaii, where he, his wife and daughter celebrated their daughter's college graduation. 

This black beauty sauntered into the gardens shortly after the break. After rubbing up against me, the cat rolled over on its back and requested belly rubs. I acquiesced. I asked if weeding was a possibility. The cat refused. Instead, the cat leisurely made its way into the garden and disappeared into the plants. Well at least, this black beauty did not beg for a date bar.   





Loren, Jody and Erich are enjoying the break and hopefully getting better acquainted. Erich previously tended the Gardens several times on his own schedule. Removing Bishops Weed was his specialty. Thanks Erich.

On Saturday, he along with other crew members,  removed many Black Eyed Susan plants. Erich also cleared away plants around the cherry tree to improve air circulation.

I am concerned about the two cherry trees. Time to consult with master gardener, Percy, or the UW plant disease center.

Here's Mary getting ready to take away a wheel barrel full of Black Eyed Susan plants. I think this is a great picture. Possible candidate for a volunteer recruitment poster?

You may be wondering why these blooming plants are being treated like weeds. Well in some respects they are weeds because they aggressively reseed themselves, crowding out other desirable plants. For example, we discovered the lovely red cardinal plant struggling to survive while surrounded with aggressive Black Eyed Susans.




Here's Steve during break and just before he and Jody tackled weeds along the Regent side of the Gardens. He looks a little like Clint Eastwood, but with more hair.... don't you think?

The "Go Ducks" t-shirt refers to the University of Oregon Ducks. Steve's daughter and son-in-law were on the faculty of Oregon State, Corvallis before moving to Ashland. They are now on the faculty of Northland College.

Hanns demonstrating one of the skills sometimes needed while gardening on a slope with rocks. Maintaining balance while holding onto a handful of weeds is sometimes required. However, there is plenty of flatland in Prospect Gardens that volunteers can choose. It is not necessary to have "goat like" abilities.

Hanns proved to be quite adapt. Not bad for a guy who was adjusting to Wisconsin time after a long trip from Hawaii.

Laura is removing plants including Black Eyed Susans.  Laura is accomplished at pulling weeds regardless of the angle of the slope. Here the terrain is relatively flat.

Here is Joyce working near Laura. Another accomplished Prospect Gardener and willing to work on any terrain.

Loren getting ready to leave on his electric bike.

A heartfelt thank you to Loren, Laura, Joyce, Erich, Steve, Hanns, Jody, and Mary for joining Ann and I. Together we journeyed down one of August's lanes on a day filled with the sentiments expressed in  Edgar Albert Guest's poem.

"All the world's in color now, and all the song birds sing;
Never reds will redder be, more golden be the gold,
Down the lanes of August, and the summer getting old."

Enjoy these aging days of summer.