Rainshadow Gardening on glacial sediments

Looking at the natural history of our area deepens our sense of place and helps us grow more resilient gardens. Climate, geology and ecology have shaped the land. Tinker would always comment on the landslides along the bluff between North Beach Park and Point Wilson lighthouse. She enjoyed reading the landscape and imagining the geologic forces at work.

By looking at the bluff, we see what is below the surface of much of Quimper Peninsula, and begin to understand our soils. The above photo shows layers of deposited sediment.

Just imagine—a massive sheet of ice 3,000 ft deep covered East Jefferson County, 15,000 years ago. This last glacier bulldozed and deposited rocks, gravel, and sand. The beach bluffs reveal that much of our soil is glacial deposits. There are pockets of clay, sand and a bit of sandy loam. The thin topsoil is often sandy, gravelly loam. If this intrigues you, check out the Quimper Geological Society!

If you have ever felt your garden soil is not as good as it could be, you are not alone! Most areas of the Puget Lowlands are too young for deep topsoil. ( Of course there is prime agricultural land that formed on marine terraces or alluvial outflow from rivers.) A soil profile is a cut through section of the land revealing topsoil, layers of subsoil and  even bedrock. Soil scientists dig profiles to examine the existing soil.

The curious gardener can look online for a digital copy of the 1975 soil survey of the county, where aerial photographs are overlaid with maps roughly indicating soil types and descriptions. I have an old paper copy that I highly value.

Again, this is just a brief summary and I am no expert! The climate working on the land determines the native flora. The Puget Sound area has mild winters and cool dry summers, and is commonly known as a Mediterranean climate. Winter rains tend to be continuous and light to moderate rather than heavy downpours. The marine layer—a deep, low cloud bank is a defining feature.

Rainshadow

What makes our area unique is that the Olympic Mountains block the moisture-laden clouds coming from the Pacific. The west side is a rainforest while the northeast side, in the shadow of the mountains is rainshadow. I have seen native Opuntia fragilis on the Quimper Peninsula and on Whidbey Island. Port Townsend’s average rainfall is around 20 to 23 inches. Often the marine layer breaks apart late in the day.

Prevailing winds  from the Pacific often reach us from the south and southwest. As the clouds move around the Olympics, dumping precipitation from Olympia to Brinnon, they are wrung out by the time they reach Port Townsend. Eastern Jefferson County is largely a peninsula on a peninsula. It juts out to the northeast and catches the winds from the south. Mostly in summer winds blow from the northwest down the Salish Sea.

Arctic Blasts

In general our gardens are more prone to winter damage when arctic blasts roar down through the Fraser River Valley of British Columbia. It used to be that we only needed to track this during El Niño- Southern Oscillation years but the polar vortex is wobbling now and this leads to less predictability. Last winter we had cold temperatures that were the lowest in 30 years. Keeping an eye on the weather allows us to bring out sheets or burlap to cover plants. Even wind-blown Doug fir boughs shield vulnerable plants.

Moving here in 1988, with a background in organic horticulture, I was very curious about weather. Trying to get a grasp on seasonal cycles and weather, I asked many questions. It seemed like every season someone would say “This is the coldest summer” or “This is the wettest spring,” or “Its the driest winter”—I could not find a predictable pattern!

But there were and still are weather trends: Spring came early and lasted until the fourth of July; summer was somewhat predictable for August and September, although any day could become rainy and windy. Then autumn arrived. The snow was visible on the mountains until September. Several people who grew up here said the mountains were always snow-covered when they were children.

What I recall is the first snowfall would brighten the Olympic Mountains by mid-October, and might bring a cold snap to sea level, with occasional early frosts. Then mild weather would return for much of October. Often November would be the rainiest time of the year. Temperatures would get cooler and cooler until a frost. The darkest time of the year was and still is late November, December and January.—the sky colored many shades of gray. But then storms blew in from the south, after wrapping around the Olympics, bringing windy weather and sun-breaks in the dramatic skies. Red flowering currant could bloom as early as mid-February. There does seem to be an increased occurrence of multi-year La Nina. Nature magazine 2023.

Resilient Gardens

Climate change is real and part of gardening is responding to the changes. We live in a place for garden lovers, where flowers can bloom in the winter and a large number of evergreen shrubs thrive. The native vegetation offers a plethora of interesting plants for our gardens. Berries and fruit trees thrive in our mild climate. Winter vegetable gardens provide leeks and greens all winter. Knowing that most soils here are excessively well-drained and that we can’t rely on summer rains, drought-tolerant ornamentals are a smart choice. Tinker respected our rainshadow ecosystem. Here is how she grew resilient gardens:

  • Recognizing the importance of the soil ecosystem
  • Caring for the soil through making compost & sheet mulch
  • Selecting plant varieties that are bred for pest-resistance
  • Growing open-pollinated heirlooms that we can nurture as landraces
  • Developing a strong curiosity about our local weather
  • Committing to living lightly on the Earth, however we define it

Cejita

 

At sunset we walked down the cobblestone streets of Hostotipaquillo, Jalisco, a place not found in any gringo guidebook. This colonial town has so much potential that a group of intrepid newcomers are encouraging local officials to seek the honored designation as a

pueblo magico.Street of Hostotipaquillo

Lida, a 50-yr old former lawyer and nonprofit director from LA invited me to the lookout point called Cejatita, or the Eyebrow. As we walked, I asked Lida how she heard about Casa Colibri, the Catholic Worker community of volunteers where I will live for three weeks. Since I arrived she has been the most helpful, explaining the schedule and the ins and outs of life here.

“I’ve known Manuel for a long time, and I visited here twice before. He’s been inviting me to come live here, so last summer when my job ended, I decide to give it a try. I love it, this is home for now.”

“How do you know him?

“When I volunteered at the Catholic Workers in LA I worked with him doing a huge mosaic mural. We’ve been friends for years.”

We arrived at the lookout point, an escarpment about 400 feet above the scrubby plain, and beyond that to the rugged Sierra Madre Occidental. An updraft blew through the foliage of the stunted Copal and Acacia trees clinging to the rocks, creating a constant hum. The vast expanse silenced my mind.

When I returned to this place again over the next couple of weeks, I began to read the landscape; off to the west I first heard and then saw a bus coming down the long grade that brought me here. The features below were spread out like a quilt with a child’s miniature world. I began to look within the vast scrubby plains and tree-covered hills and could recognize ejidos, individually farmed parcels that are owned by the townsfolk’s community.

“What do you think that area over there is? See it, surrounded by rocks?”

“That’s probably a corral for horses or cows.”

While mostly grazing land, small fields or milpas had been cut into the dense growth.  It was four months into the dry season and the deciduous trees  belied the lush potential that summer rains bring forth.  The next time I stood here at Cejatita was after a trip to a local ranch; I was able to trace some of our route and see the communal grazing land that Beto’s cow had wandered away from, looking for greener pastures. The cows down there looked so tiny.

A photo taken from the back of a pickup truck while we waited for the farmer to catch his prized holstein. She was running thorough the campo.
A photo taken from the back of a pickup truck while we waited for the farmer to catch his prized Holstein. She was running thorough the campo.

Friday morning I studies Spanish while the members worked on the current mission statement for Casa Colibri.

The community of Casa Colibri listed their priorities.
The community of Casa Colibri listed their priorities. I think someone told me they were equally important values.

Then I helped with lunch preparation. Three days a week the Catholic Workers prepare lunch for 15-20 local kids—mostly from poor or dysfunctional families. One family of nine kids often shows up.

“See those kids,” Manuel said to me the first time I help serve the rambunctious lot, “I grew up poor like them. I was the youngest of eight.”

Manuel started Casa Colibri after living at the Los Angleles Catholic Workers for many years. Before that he grew up in Mexico and went through a Jesuit seminary, but decided becoming a priest was not for him. The Catholic Worker vision of modeling one’s life on the simple and radical actions of Jesus Christ resonated with him. He has been the constant and guiding force to make this dream a reality in rural Mexico. His humble demeanor hides his creative gifts, charisma and perseverance.

On my last night in Mexico, before boarding the plane in Guadalajara, we stayed at his friend’s house who took us out for dinner at an upscale restaurant that served vegetarian dishes. Shortly after we ordered, a well dressed couple motioned him over to their table. I was surprised, but my host Mauricio said,

“Oh, Manuel is famous, everyone loves him.”

At lunch there are rules for the kids:  hand-washing before sitting, everyone recites a simple singsong thanksgiving prayer before eating, kids stay in their seats while eating, and vegetables must be eaten before tacos or beans.  Often they want seconds and thirds. There is plenty of food for all. The kids can be so loving and affectionate, demanding and rude. There is a beautiful bond between them and the members of the Casa. The children warmly included me in the group.Waiting for lunchPhoto timeAlthough Casa Colibri has a small budget, in the seven years since they purchased the property, they have renovated the house and built an addition. The first thing they did in the garden was to remove the concrete and chicken coops that covered the ground.

To be continued!