Category: gardening

Book Buzz

                                          

 Today is World Bee Day. Established in 2018 by the United Nations, the purpose of the declaration is to acknowledge the importance of bees and what they do for our environment. Did you know, for instance, that bees help grow 90% of the world’s wildflower plants or that 35% of the world’s crops depend on bees to grow? Along with contributing to food security, bees are key to conserving biodiversity.

Bees have been around forever. The first bee discovered, which is preserved in amber, dates back 100 million years. That discovery played a significant role in helping scientists understand the relationship between bees and the evolution of flowering plants and our very ecosystem.

Unfortunately, bees are under continuous threat from invasive insects, pesticides, changes in land-use, and the practice of monocropping, which destroys bee colonies. So, anything we can do to sustain them (and other pollinators like bats, hummingbirds and butterflies) helps all of us.

Here are just a few simple things you can do to help the bees:

  • Plant a diverse set of native plants, ones which flower at different times of the year;
  • Buy raw honey from local farmers;
  • Buy products from sustainable agricultural practices;
  • Avoid using pesticides, fungicides or herbicides in the garden;
  • Protect wild bee colonies when possible;
  • Sponsor a hive;
  • Make a bee water fountain by leaving a water bowl outside.

And once you’ve done any or all of those things, reward yourself by reading a book where bees feature prominently. There are many! Here are just a few to consider.

The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd. This coming-of-age novel about loss, betrayal and the interracial civil-rights landscape of the 1960s American south is considered a modern classic.

The Murmur of Bees by Sofia Segovia (translated by Simon Bruni) Set against the backdrop of the Mexican Revolution and the devastating influenza of 1918, The Murmur of Bees captures both the fate of a country in flux and the destiny of one family that has put their love, faith, and future in the unbelievable.

The Last Beekeeper by Julie Carrick Dalton. The disappearance of the world’s bees, along with the other pollinating insects, in an ecological disaster dubbed the Great Collapse provides the backdrop for this moving post-apocalyptic thriller.

The History of Bees by Maja Lunde. This novel follows three generations of beekeepers from the past, present, and future, and tells the story of their relationship to the bees – and to their children and to one another – against the backdrop of an urgent, global crisis.

The Music of Bees by Eileen Garvin.  A heartwarming novel about three lonely strangers who are brought together by happenstance on a local honeybee farm where they find surprising friendship, healing – and maybe even a second chance – just when they least expect it.

Pre-teen and teen readers might enjoy The Summer We Saved the Bees by Robin Stevenson. Wolf’s mother is obsessed with saving the world’s honeybees, so it’s not too surprising when she announces that she’s taking her Save the Bees show on the road—with the whole family. Wolf thinks it’s a terrible plan, partly because he’ll have to wear a bee costume in public.

And for picture book readers consider The Beeman by Laurie Krebs and Valeria Cis. With rhyming text and warm, expressive paintings, this picture book takes the reader through a year of beekeeping from the point of view of a little girl helping her beloved grandpa, who’s known in town as the Beeman.

My January Reads

                                                    

The garden might be in hibernation mode, but the neighborhood birds are active. They love that we didn’t get to the deadheading last fall. After dining on the seed heads, they play tag with each other before resting on the branches we didn’t prune. One of my favorites is a tiny green Anna’s hummingbird that loves to drink nectar from the Sarcococca Confusa (Sweet Box) outside our kitchen window before perching on the weeping Maple. It’s almost enough to keep me from my reading. Almost, but not quite.

I didn’t read quite as many books as normal in 2024. I noted down 52 titles, one for each week, though I know I read slightly more than that. I lost track when we were travelling. I hope to surpass that number this year. Here’s what I’m reading this month.

By Any Other Name by Jodi Picoult

One Way Back by Christine Blasey Ford

Slow Down: The Degrowth Manifesto by Kolei Saito

Books read to date in 2025: 4

My August Reads

We’re past the midpoint of summer. While the days remain warm, nighttime temperatures are dropping, a reminder that we’re heading inexorably towards fall. In the garden, the raspberries are finished, the fig tree and cucumber vines are producing like mad and the tomatoes are ripening. As I write this, a batch of tomato confit bakes in the oven. If I’m not tending the harvest or noodling around with my latest manuscript, I’m in holiday mode entertaining family and friends. It’s a busy time and I don’t expect the pace to slow anytime soon. So, while these blog updates may be sporadic over the next month or even two, you can be sure I’m occupied and having a good time. And you can be guaranteed there’s a good book waiting for me at the end of a busy day. Here’s what I’m reading this month.

Becoming Duchess Goldblatt, A Memoir by Anonymous

A Real Somebody by Deryn Collier

Japan by Johnathan De Hart

Books read to date in 2024: 36

My June Reads

                             

Summer officially arrived last week, bringing with it more gorgeous flowers, a steady stream of visitors and a busier pace overall. I think that’ll be the theme of the next few months: beauty in the garden, wonderful times spent with friends and family, and lots of activity to keep me busy when they leave. And even though reading time is a bit harder to come by these days, I am still carving out time for it. Here’s what I’m reading this month.

Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata

Just One Thing by Michael Mosley

The Botanist’s Daughter by Kate Nunn

Books read to date in 2024: 32

My May Reads

The consistently warm weather isn’t here quite yet, but my overwintered gerberas and geraniums are slowly migrating out of the greenhouse to take up their positions on the patio. Taking their place are flats of tomato, pepper, eggplant and melon seedlings. They got a late start because we were away for a week in April (primary seeding time) so I’m hoping they catch up. Speaking of catch up, that seems to be the theme in the garden lately, partly because of the weather but also because my back is dictating a slower pace. I’m okay with that; it means more time for a good book. And here’s what I’m reading this month.

The Four Winds by Kristin Hannah

Homecoming by Kate Morton

Ikaria by Diane Kochilas

Books read to date in 2024: 28

When Too Much . . .

. . . is . . . well . . . too much.

In writing, there’s such a thing as going too far, or overwriting. In her book Steering the Craft, esteemed author Ursula K. Le Guin says it’s important to “slow down and leave enough white space around the words and silence around the voice.” What you leave out in those pauses, she believes, is infinitely more important than what you leave in.  And yet, there’s a balance. Leave out too much and your reader won’t understand what’s going on. Cram in too many details, particularly in action scenes, and the pace falters. The rhythm, the speed, will be off.

Visual artists know this well. White space, whether that’s literal white space around an image or the grout that fills the gaps in a mosaic, is a key principle in design and applied arts. White space separates and highlights other elements. It allows the mind to rest and reflect, to absorb the message or the image. On the other hand, there are times when words or an artistic medium like paint are overused precisely because that’s the effect the creator is going for (the recent official portrait of King Charles 111 and his big red controversy comes to mind).

Overdoing has been on my mind a lot lately. The first draft of my current WIP is overwritten (as is my tendency in a first draft), the herb bed in the garden is overplanted (I love too many plants; what can I say?) and now my poor back is suffering because I’ve overdone it on a number of levels. My back warned me, but I kept pushing through and didn’t listen. I went too far.

Now, though, too much has been . . . too much.  I’ve been forced to slow down, to pay attention to my body . . . to rest and reflect and to relearn the lesson that life, just like art, also requires some balance. I think Ursula K. Le Guin would approve.

Happy May

                                               

Today is May 1st, also known as May Day. In many places around the world, it’s also International Workers’ Day … a time to celebrate and recognize the contributions of the working class. In some places, in fact, today is a national public holiday.

The ancient Celts celebrated May Day too. They called it Beltane and considered it the most important day of the year. It was celebrated with bonfires, Maypole dancing and feasting, and culminated in the crowning of a May queen.  They also considered it the beginning of summer because in the Northern Hemisphere May 1st falls halfway between our Spring equinox and the June solstice.

It’s not quite summer yet, but the tulips are in bloom, the lilacs are about to open and the garden is waking up from its winter slumber. And that’s something to celebrate. Happy May!

My April Reads

A change is as good as a rest, or at least that’s how the saying goes. I hope there’s some truth to it! We’re on the mainland babysitting our four-year-old grandson and rest is hard to come by. He’s not one for sleeping, and his inquisitive nature is in gear before dawn. That first morning, when he nudged me awake at 5:30 am and I replied that it was ‘too early,’ he snuggled in beside me and tried to engage. “What does too early even mean?” That led to a discussion (one sided) about how I squish my eyes tight in the morning “even like Mama.” So, there’s very little rest to be had, but there’s lots time for laughs and cuddles, crazy bath time routines and books. And here’s what I’m reading this month.

Giraffes Can’t Dance by Giles Andreae & Guy Parker-Rees

The Paper Palace by Miranda Cowley Heller

Abroad in Japan by Chris Broad

The Tattooist of Auschwitz by Heather Morris

Books read to date in 2024: 22

All In Good Time

                                                  

I’ve written here before about being a turtle instead of a hare when it comes to producing art. Go here if you missed that blog post.  https://lauralangston.com/get-your-turtle-on/

The idea that we don’t always get instant results came to mind again recently. On this date in 1501, Michelangelo started carving the statue David . . . and he finished it three years later. The ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, considered one of the greatest masterpieces of all time, took Michelangelo four years to paint (and speaking of churches, La Sagrada Familia Basilica in Barcelona – one of Gaudi’s most famous works – has been under construction since 1882 and it’s still not finished).

 In my small corner of the world, I’m revising a novel I’ve been fiddling with for probably three years now. Some books come together quickly, but others don’t. I’m more accepting of that than I used to be. Maybe because I’ve been at this writing gig for decades. Maybe it’s life experience. More likely it’s a combination of both.

And as always, the garden (and nature generally) reminds me on a fairly regular basis that some things take time. For instance, I’m harvesting tomatoes right now. We have a glut of them and they’re especially sweet this year, especially fresh off the vine. But they’re also wonderful in other ways too.  I turned some into confit last week . . . it took about five hours in a very slow oven. While that was cooking, I filled the dehydrator with tomato slices. The process of getting them to sweet, dried rounds took a couple of days.  

All things in good time. Or, maybe that should read: time makes all things good.

Wild Magic

                                                          

‘Pure creativity is something better than necessity – it’s a gift – it’s the frosting. Our creativity is a wild and unexpected bonus from the universe.’  Elizabeth Gilbert

A few weeks ago, my neighbour emailed me a picture of the clematis blooming in her back garden. It normally produces purple flowers. But this year, and for no discernable reason, the vine is awash with pink and white striped blooms too.  It is, as Elizabeth Gilbert would say, a wild and unexpected bonus from the universe.

Around the same time my neighbour emailed me that picture, a writer friend emailed and said the ending she had in mind for her work in progress had taken a left turn. “The character took over and did something I never saw coming,” she said. “And the ending is so perfect it’s almost like magic.”

That’s pure creativity. Unpredictable, a little wild, and magical. It doesn’t matter whether we’re creating in the studio or at the keyboard, whether we’re in the garden or in the kitchen, there’s a kind of alchemy that happens if we listen to what we’re creating and let it have a say in what it wants to be. A touch of wild and wonderful magic that’s both humbling and awe-inspiring. And one that can bloom with beautiful results, just like my neighbour’s clematis.