As the baseball fields across the country are meticulously mowed, raked, and groomed, so are the garden beds turned, amended, and prepared. The solid ‘plap’ of the ball hitting the well-worked pocket of a glove and the sweet tangy scent of a juvenile tomato plant are equal signals of summer. They are both harbingers of the warm season ahead, but more importantly they are prophets of hope. All the mistakes, missteps and missed opportunities of past seasons are erased. There are no losses or strikeouts, no aphids or powdery mildew. The fan possesses the belief that this year will be the one they have been waiting for.

Just as the manager must maneuver his players, as the gardener I must make decisions about my plants. In spring training (garden planning) we both study the roster and line-ups, placing the players according to their unique strengths and characteristics. Pondering the arsenal of warm season crops eventually gives me my opening day roster.

Pitching wins championships, so there I begin. The summer squash clan will be my starting rotation with zucchini in the first spot, followed by yellow crookneck and patty pan. I know they will deliver with consistency day in and day out, becoming the trustworthy anchor that will provide winning harvests. The vining beans and cucumbers fill in the middle relief spots, not too flashy and rarely famed, but ideally they can bridge the gap until my closer sprints with fanfare from the bullpen in the bottom of the ninth inning. Here come the hot peppers, bursting with fiery delivery and unpredictable personality. Filling the role of a zany closer, the peppers pack a powerful punch.

Twice a year I delve into the meditative act of garden planning. It is a lengthy process and one that I have refined over the past few seasons. My methodology is of my own creation, and is far from efficient. But in the end gives me what I need: the quantities, layout, and full utilization of the finite space of each garden.

Despite the labor and tedium involved, there are many reasons I do it. The first is that every plant needs a certain amount of space to grow to its potential, both above and below the soil. Most books and seed packets have spacing recommendations, but a quick look at more than one brand or publication will leave you with confusion as the directions are far from universal. Farmscape’s guidelines are based on various trusted resources, but more importantly on our collective experience over the past seasons.

I begin cutting quickly and comfortably, each cut opening the view to another that can be made, and so I swiftly proceed. Suddenly, in the span of a few minutes I have removed too much in one quarter of the tree, leaving it unbalanced and awkwardly lopsided. My close proximity allowed me only to see a labyrinthine path instead of a series of contemplative careful cuts.

Farmscape is currently steeped in the excitement of home orchards. We are offering both installations of brand new fruit trees as well as pruning and maintenance of existing trees and orchards. January and February are the ideal months in Southern California to prune deciduous trees, as their bare limbs make it easier to see the essential structure of the tree.

As a gardener, I often trick myself into thinking I have control over the garden. That my presence, work and wishes will be answered in a timely fashion by the plants I am lording over. It is at the peak of my haughty thoughts that I am reminded that confidence of ability comes with the humility of reality. For in the garden/gardener relationship, the true master and teacher is the garden.

Good gardening is problem solving. There are such a myriad of pests, diseases, and other such issues, that finding the problem can take weeks or months of trial and error. A checklist of possibilities must be ticked off to get to the heart of the matter. Is there adequate sun? Is the soil moisture level correct? Are there aphids? Earwigs? Slugs? Caterpillars? Grubs? Parasitic nematodes? Squirrels? Deer? Rats? Blight? Rust? Powdery Mildew? Soil-born diseases? The list grows larger as I continue to flesh out my agricultural knowledge. Diseases and insects can literally adapt or build immunities over time to a certain control. There is really no end to learning the craft of gardening.  This is one of the best aspects about working with plants. It is also one of the worst.