Dark of the moon

[Anne Kilmer]

You must expect some trouble from us poets, philosophers and other
lunatics at the full moon and the dark of the moon. Bear with us. 
I have written this column for my Palm Beach County readers and
butterfly gardeners ... I hope you'll enjoy it. You'll notice some of
Charles' thoughts crept in here, among others. 

Creature Comforts May 1999
Anne Kilmer

	Math question: If  I drive 30 miles, twice a week, to design and plant
a butterfly multi-sensory garden for handicapped children at St. Mary's
Hospital, clear across town, do I lose more eco-points for the driving
than I gain for the garden? 
	As I write, the plants are ready for planting.  The pentas is in wild
bloom. The fennel is full of huge caterpillars.  We can't use milkweed,
because the autistic children graze 
 it's a trick to choose plants they
can nibble without harm. Even herbs have to be munched in moderation.
And, besides, we don't want the children to learn that all of nature is
kindly. There must be some thorns on their roses.
	We're calling this new garden the Angels' Garden. Autistic children
have a beautiful innocence; their faces are unmarked by sorrow and their
thoughts are far away. Calling them back is what we're hoping to do. 
	So we've chosen a hedge of green and silver buttonwood, Jamaica caper,
firebush 
 plants that can be sheared for a formal look on the outside,
but that, inside the garden, will be full of flowers, fruit, insects and
birds.  The colors will be lovely together; olive and silver and deep
green and rusty red. I've seen hedges like that in town; they're
wonderful.  And you can grow them to any height from 4 feet to 15 feet. 
	We're replacing, with the hospital's reluctant blessing, the new ficus
hedge they had planted. Ficus benjamina is an irritant, a clothing
destroyer 
 not the best thing for children who nibble at their garden.
	It's the nemesis of gardeners as well. Looking at those innocent little
plants, doubling in size every 15 minutes, I saw their roots wander into
the mulched play yard; wreak havoc in the new sod, laid directly on
shellrock.   
	I saw them lift and tangle in the fence, pull apart the sprinkler pipes
and start merrily heaving the asphalt parking lot 
 not that I care
about that.  My concern is for the children,and the plants they're
tending.  Fighting a ficus hedge is not what they signed up for. 
	"What about the hedge around the other garden?" the fellows asked
reasonably. Frankly, I'd like that gone, too. But I don't feel that I
can demand that people remove an established hedge 
 the children don't
seem to know it's there. They are well supervised in the Secret Garden;
they don't graze where they shouldn't. And perhaps, one day, seeing how
splendid is the Angels' hedge, St. Mary's will replicate it throughout
the campus. 
Meanwhile, the Secret Garden is thriving, blooming heartily, fragrant
with mint and thyme and rose geranium. The baby milkweeds are coming up
all over, but the passionvine, not yet established, was eaten to the
stems. 
Last week it was leafless. This week leafing out again, and already
planted out with new caterpillars. This will not do. I showed the
clients from the Association for Retarded Citizens, who are caring for
that garden, how to hunt for the eggs and caterpillars and (I'm sorry)
flip them away. We told each that we were sorry, and that we hope they
will come again when they can stay longer.
	When I come back in July the vines should be hearty, and we'll change
our strategy; and I hated to do this. 
So now, on my soul, I have the murder of these helpless little
caterpillars (but the vines would not have supported them; they would
have died anyway) and the gasoline fumes and the carbon dioxide and
monoxide from the drive 
 balanced against the pleasure my new friends
have in their garden, and the delight the birds and beasts will have,
finding this haven in the heart of the city. Which we are watering, now,
in this time of water restriction, because newly-planted gardens must be
watered. And now is the time to plant. 
Who keeps score? Can't I find a garden closer to me (there's a hospital
5 minutes away that has asked for help) and just advise the St. Mary's
gardeners by e-mail, which is comparatively eco-friendly, if you don't
count the critters that were poisoned or unhoused so I could have a
computer. 
The over-examined life is also not worth living. In the end, Candide was
right; the best thing to do is to cultivate your garden. 
	If you haven't a garden, choose one of the many that is calling out for
help. Schools, churches, nursing homes 
 pick a spot, speak to the
landlord, bring in your friends and get busy.  It's spring; time to get
out and plant.  And plant a wildlife-friendly one, full of native
plants, where the birds are welcome to share the fruit. Within reason. 

Anne Kilmer
south Florida