Primavera: First Days of Spring

It just came to me that in Mexico this coming Monday, March 15, is a holiday. I was up north for a couple of weeks and am a little out of the loop, so it took me a minute to figure out what the holiday is.

Monday is the day set aside to celebrate the birthday of Benito Juarez, one of the most important and beloved figures in Mexican history. Born in Oaxaca and a Zapoteco, Juarez did not begin to learn Spanish or start to school until after his twelfth birthday. He went on to study law and hold various political positions before becoming president during a conflict-ridden period of Mexican history. Parts of his career he lived in exile; he spent a portion of his presidency on the run in various remote parts of the country, accompanied by his cabinet, with political foes in hot pursuit. And they weren't tagging along in hopes of having a polite meeting. Juarez is remembered for his efforts in support of equality, liberty and democracy, in favor of the separation of church and state, and for being the only Mexican president of one hundred percent indigenous roots. His actual birthday is March 21, but in order to create a three-day weekend, it is celebrated this year on Monday, March 15.

Juarez's birthday falls on the second day of spring, or primavera. This week is has suddenly begun to feel like spring in Mèrida. After a long, cool winter, spring-like weather arrived with a vengeance a couple of days ago, when the temperatures in Mèrida reached an official 40.8 degrees C, or a little above 105 F. I mark this time of year precisely, because it is now that the sun has come far enough north to begin shining into and heating up the back room of my house (picture above) in the afternoons, making the higher temperatures much more noticeable. Late spring here is the hottest time of year, with temperatures rising gradually through the season until a peak in May or June, when the thermometer in this region can reach 110 F, and afternoon readings in Mèrida are routinely around 100 or higher. The heat breaks with the beginning of the rains, usually in June.

Right now at my house, another sign of spring is the abundance of pea-sized oranges taking the place of the fragrant blossoms that I have been enjoying for the past month or more. The tree flowers excessively, the petals fall off and coat the patio and surface of the pool with a fine snow of white. A little later, during the driest weeks and despite my efforts to keep the tree watered, the tree sheds excess fruit, again blanketing my patio and pool. This time everything is covered with tiny oranges that look like something spilled by the Jolly Green Giant.

Now is when I start to think about trimming and pruning some of the plants in the garden. The thumbergia, which grows from a small patch of soil at the margin of the interior patio, had reached the roof, grown over onto the neighbor's house,

and completely obscured the fan window that illuminates the living room. I put off trimming it because of the abundance of flowers, but the thing was out of control. Now after cutting it way back, I can repaint the wall and install new guide wires. I'll water the thumbergia, shown here before and after trimming, and it will grow slowly, harboring its strength, I suppose, and at the start of the rains in June, it will begin to grow at the rate almost visible to the naked eye. By mid-summer, it will have covered the wall once again.

This also is a good time to think about any new planting I may want to do in the coming months. It's nice to have things in the ground before the rains start. The rainwater begins a tremendous growth spurt in all the plants and trees, and a serious gardener wants take advantage of that. I begin to look at the nursery that the pack patio has become, wondering where I will put the plants. Actually a lot of these small palms and fruit trees are in waiting for another space. I continue to look for a country property where I have a little more space for fruit trees and gardening. That search is a project that will continue this year.

Benito Juarez's birthday comes around the same time as the beginning of spring. Spring is a time of growth, a time to take stock, renew and plan. Juarez for many here is a symbol of positive change and growth in the history of the country. It is appropriate that in Mexico, as we plan for spring, we also observe his birth.

Sorry, Mom, I've Got Great Tomatoes

Dear Mom,

I know how much you have always loved tomatoes. I remember when we kids were growing up that you always tried to grow tomatoes despite the fact that we lived in Alaska, which is not exactly tomato country.

You started the seeds indoors early in the spring. Then you patiently waited until the last frosts had passed before putting the little plants outside; sometimes you also kept some plants indoors along window ledges all summer long. All you ever hoped for was enough produce for a few nice salads. Some years you got good tomatoes, but mostly it was a struggle. I remember that many years the fall chill hit before the little hard green fruits had a chance to mature. Those years we would have little green tomatoes lined up on the windowsills. Sometimes they would just rot before they turned red. I remember several times when you had a celebratory meal of a couple of small tomatoes which were your only harvest after months of nurturing your plants.

These days I am eating giant, juicy tomatoes from my garden in Mèrida, some of which you can see pictured here. I feel that I almost do not deserve these tomatoes because I have never lifted a finger to plant or take care of them, and that's not because someone else is doing the gardening for me. It just happened. I compost the vegetable scraps from my kitchen, and some of the seeds germinated in an unlikely place, next to the pool. They were either dropped by me or spread by animals, but I am not sure. I think the plants are doing so well due to a combination of lots of water (when I do pool maintenance I drain the water in the garden) and plenty of sun exposure. I read recently in a blog I follow about another's experience with self-seeded tomatoes doing extremely well. This blogger theorizes that self-seeded tomatoes do better than ones we plant because they have adapted better to local conditions.

And the plants are happy. These tomatoes are huge. I wouldn't be surprised if the larger ones weight close to half a pound each.

The tomatoes are large, and so are the plants. I took out a tape measure a couple of weeks ago, and the largest plant measures more than twelve feet across, has covered the paved walkway and gone into the water. This causes come problems with walking around the back garden, and has pretty much done in some of the flowers I had planted nearby, but the good tomatoes are worth it.