(via IMA Flickr 2004)

Bambi is a browser. This does not mean that deer tend to thumb through magazines at the newsstand instead of making a purchase. No, they browse in the sense of “chew off the buds and tender twigs of trees and shrubs.” Sure, deer eat grass and hostas and other herbaceous plants, but they have a fondness for woody plants enjoying the young stems and sweet buds of fruit trees and shrubs – I need those buds for next spring’s blossoms. And they like to take naps in the flower beds. So, if you see Odocoileus virginianus out in the gardens, please suggest they trot back over to 100 Acres or Crown Hill.

2009 was a great year to be gardening, because there was plenty of rain and it was not too hot. That also made for a great year for plant pathogenic fungi, which spread more readily during damp weather. In particular downy and powdery mildew defoliated my squash. Unless the plant is a cultivar with disease resistance, it is necessary to spray fungicide once or twice per week. That is NOT something I will be doing, so I may opt for newer varieties if I cannot find resistant heirlooms.

Us plant wonks got a little excited when a seldom seen parasitic plant showed up this past year. Dodder (one of several species in the genus Cuscuta ) probably arrived as a contaminant in some clover seed. Dodder is not a fungus, but a true flowering plant whose seed germinates in the soil, but it promptly attaches itself to another plant, in this case clover. The dodder then loses its roots in soil, and lacking chlorophyll of its own, sucks nutrients out of its host. The stem of the plant is thinner than a paperclip, with flowers about the size of this letter “o”.

Due to a lapse on my part, cabbage loopers (the larvae of a moth) wrecked havoc on my Brussels sprouts, cauliflower, and kale. Not much thicker that a pencil lead, they can quickly defoliate cole crops. Fortunately, there is a highly effective organic control, a naturally occurring bacteria called Bascillus thuringiensis (often sold under the brand name Dipel or BT) which only attacks larvae of moths and butterflies (collectively referred to as the order Lepidoptera). Unfortunately, Bt does not work if it is sitting in the bottle on the shelf.

The most diligent pest was the bushy-tailed marauder the fox squirrel (Sciurus niger).

"Dug the Dog"

The cute critters started the season by eating the few apples that “set” on the newly planted trees in the Tanner Orchard. Then they moved on to strawberries. And finished the season munching on sunflowers. Hrrr-rumph.

Sharing sometimes seems over-rated!

From Flickr user SillyFrog

I went upstairs to see the Adaptation installation, and was immediately drawn to the unassuming Herrera exhibit, “Les Noces”.  It presents itself from outside as a placard and a pitch dark walkway leading into the unknown from which emanates the intense singing and occasional screaming of a Stravinsky scored ballet.

Hearing the unmistakably Russian 20th century music with tall chords and harsh brutal sounds, I was intrigued, but the video installation was so well protected from outside light that I was afraid I’d walk into something.  Honestly, I was simply afraid of the whole exhibit, and I turned on my heel returning to the light of the museum.  I eventually had to psyche myself up to enter.  My initial experience of the piece was unsettling not least of which was due to my body adjusting to the levels of adrenaline my system released simply walking through the light trap.

Source image from Arturo Herrera’s two-channel digital projection Les Noces, 2007. Courtesy the artist and Sikkema & Co.

The music was harsh. I found myself wondering who performed and conducted the recording that was blasting through the room.  The vocals sounded intentionally raw, and it added to the discombobulating effect of two screens each displaying two images per screen with bits of photography and drawing projected onto either end of the room without direct connection to the music being played.  Here was an adaptation, the substitution being the constant animation of squiggles and what might be Bullwinkle the Moose’s right arm and torso rather than the dancers on a stage. Instead of viewing the performance as a member of an audience in a group of people organized in orderly rows the performance surrounded me, the single viewer.  This created a personal experience, one that was both meditative and jarring.  The abstract images lent themselves to individual projection.  I watched the piece and listened to the music and simply experienced what was happening.

Given the opportunity to try and decode the images and the references to marriage and ballet or to simply observe with my eyes and ears I chose the latter.  There comes a time when the meta-memes outpace themselves and all antecedents have to be used as springboards rather than the object of reference.  Wugh.  It was shortly after I arrived at that conclusion that the final resolution of the swelled and clacked, I shook my head back into the present, and  I made my way out of the room back into the airy museum.  I took a deep breath when I got out.  I had gained an abstract experience I could not describe.

Not bad for a lazy Saturday.