Shelter in Place, San Francisco, March 2, 2021
Not all the perennials seem to be coming back this spring, and my hips are improved enough to foster my ambition, so yesterday we ventured down to our favorite nursery in Half Moon Bay to see what we could find. The ride along the coast was much the same - beautiful and crowded, in fact - as if everybody feels, like us, sprung from Covid darkness, and anxious to see the sun and sea. Unfortunately, our destination seemed altered, not only for the masks we all were wearing down the aisles, but for the nursery’s highly reduced inventory and the sadness of their plants. Like us, I’m guessing, many gardeners stayed away last growing season and, as a result, it looks like the place is barely hanging on.
Back home, I’m mapping out where I want to put the plants we did manage to find, taking into consideration the absence of our shady tree and the fact that Northern California has only seen forty percent of its usual rain in this, its wettest season. Everything is dry, and there’s little sign of more to come, so as I plant I’m going to have to water (and get more serious about what can survive without).
This, I imagine, is only the beginning of the reckoning that is to come. As we emerge from quarantine with one desire - to get back to ‘normal’ - I’m guessing that neither the residual economic and social effects of this cataclysmic year, nor the growing signs of how our climate is rapidly changing will let us. Things will be different. Some things - like my garden - already are.