When it’s cold and gray, or gray and wet, many of us yearn for a little sun on our skin. Last week I joined some friends for a cruise down Seven Mile Lane. Each time I visit the Llano Seco Wildlife Refuge I remind myself that I should visit more often. The local treasure is 15 minutes from the downtown Chico post office. While driving those 11 miles you pass small-plot farms where flowers and food are grown for the farmers market. Later this month is the Snow Goose Festival, and the wooden viewing station at the refuge will soon be populated by out-of-towners in hats and mittens carrying expensive viewing scopes. On the day of my recent visit we saw only one man and his dog.
For as much as I enjoyed the fall leaves this year, one might think I would be melancholy to see the trees bare. Yet walking across the mostly-empty university campus is a treat, even in winter. I noticed the colors in October and November, and now my eyes are keen on how the trees are ready for the great awakening.
On the second floor of my office building, I can see the limbs of the saucer magnolia tree facing Warner Street, the limbs almost scratching against the window. On blustery days the smaller branches sway, holding dozens of fur-covered buds that will soon open with light pink flowers.
I walk behind the health center after parking my car and see the paperwhites, the earliest of “spring blooms.” Common groundsel is ready to flower, and I sometimes stop to yank them, stalling for those few minutes because I’m not quite ready to begin the workday.
Winter is a season when outdoor work is often overlooked. We have the holidays as a distraction, and it’s usually dark when we pull into our driveways after a day earning money. If the weekend is bright, I’ll walk fast past the undone work on my way to the park or that 11-mile drive to Seven Mile Lane.
This week I noticed the roses have been hacked back to less than half their height in the garden with the statue of the three sisters near the lawn at Glenn Hall. As much as I wander around campus, I’ve never caught the gardeners with clippers in their hand, which makes me think the work is done by gnomes.
I pruned my sprawling grapevine and peach tree soon after their leaves shed, but the job on the peach tree might merit another pass with my clippers. I’ve decided to keep the tree at a manageable height, inspired by my friend Betty Ann who has strange looking trees with easy-to-reach fruit. The University of California backyard orchard, https://bit.ly/3vyd8EX, notes that the tallest vertical branches have a lot of leaves, but horizontal branches are “more fruitful.” This is why Betty Ann’s trees look something like a bald man with long, flowing tresses. Branches that bend down will eventually produce less fruit, and should be pruned as well, the helpful pruning instructions explain.
For peach and nectarines, the University of California advises removing 50% of last year’s growth, and 20% for fig, apple, pear, plum and apricot. I’m glad I’m not growing all of those other trees because I don’t feel comfortable on a ladder.
I’m also glad to only have one fruit tree because pruning takes away from my daylight hours at Llano Seco.
The Snow Goose Festival website, https://snowgoosefestival.org, has two webcams in case you’re too busy to go see the birds in person.
