Jane, Hannah, and Sophie
The Green Gazette
April Issue 2013
Special Organism of the Year Edition! What’s Inside:
Digging Deeper with Gardeners!! Never Before Seen Posters! Beautiful pictures! Learn about the history of Arlington Gardens!
Nematode Decoded: Organism of the Year By Sophie Soil grows our food and plants and provides habi-
is a lot and disperse them
tats for animals. Because of
around to places with not as
ranging climates and soil
many nutrients. This makes
around the world we are giv-
the soil healthier everywhere.
en a wide range of trees,
They also kill soil dwelling
plants, and food. These are
insect pests making the plant
used to help us thrive and live
grow easier. The nematode
as the human race.
even though they may
Since soil is so important and valued topsoil loss is a major issue. Topsoil loss is when the elements cause the soil to get carried away. When the plants are not there to make the soil stable, the soil will not stick to the ground. This means that our major crops could be destroyed and communities would be devastated. Our organism of the year, the nematode, is devoted to making the soil better. The main benefit of nematodes is they will eat the nu-
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trients in a place where there
be microscopic makes a huge impact on the quality of our soil.
“Our organism of the year, the nematode, is devoted to making the soil better.�
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APRIL ISSUE
Poems by Jane
The Compost I walk up the dirty concrete stairs into my backyard. The cold evening breeze whishes through me, And I pull the sides of my cardigan inward, so that it covers my chest.
Now I remember looking in that same soil years ago and seeing worms crawling in the handful of it in my hand. I wondered how they managed to get in there. --But now I know.
I step on the overgrown grass with They’re doing their job. my sore, bare feet. Wriggling through the waste, deThe balls of my feet are tender composing it until it is humus. from wearing the wrong shoes on a walk today, and I massage them in They manage to decompose everything, even coffee filters. the grass. I think of the billions of little crea- They make it into soil that can grow plants faster than any other tures living right under me, and I soil. think they must feel very invaded by us humans.
I think of magic shows.
I tiptoe over to the garden that never was next to the lawn.
The magicians, moving their hands and making countless red balls mysteriously come out of their mouths.
The black compost bin sits in it, embedded in the small rocks. I flip open the top of it with the tips of my fingers slowly; I am afraid of spiders. There were cobwebs on some of the corners, and a dead spider on the underside of the lid. I shudder at the sight, but I don’t close the bin. I look down and see broken eggshells, and moldy fruit. But under that was the dark, rich, pure soil. It is a deep mahogany color. My mother used this to plant herbs and vegetables in a different garden, and sprouts started to peek out in a matter of days. It’s hard to imagine that it was once pieces of apple core and banana peels.
This is better. Spring Above me, an arch entangled with purple flowers looms over the bench I am sitting on. The sun peeks through and I am forced to squint. As I stare out, past the flowerbeds and honeybees, past the birdbath, I see part of a house, and a rusted metal arch with flowerpots balancing on the beams. All around me, birds are having a happy conversation in a language that I will never understand. In front of me, I hear a little girl talking to her family. They respond to her and talk about all the flowers and soon-to-be olive trees.
I smell the sweet, intangible scent of the purple flowers surrounding me. The wooden bench I am sitting on smells like an oaky wine, but slightly sweeter. The flowerpots hanging from the arch above me smell like rusted sugar. The bench is smooth, but as I run my hands along the planks, I am reading Braille. I look to my right, and see the purple buds and part of the arch. I look back towards the house and the other arch, and I look at the bird bath again. It is made of stone, but it looks old and wary. A baby angel is perched on top, with his wings tucked in close to his back. His fists are close to his chest, and he looks up. He seems insecure, yet brave. I stand up and walk throughout the garden. The hot sun beats down on me, yet the cool spring breeze sweeps over my face. I finally understand peace.
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APRIL ISSUE
Poems by Hannah The Song of the Trees
Tethered but Free
I am tethered to it, like a boulder to the stream, like a dog chained to a post. In the early years, I was rabid, always writhing away from the earth, yearning to fly, to swim, to do anything to get me away from the everlasting green horizon. I have learned to accept the fact that flying is saved for birds and those few times when I depart in a metal bird, reaching forever for the sun. though in melody. Looking down, I see the rolling I look up as the tree smiles green of the hills and the imdown on me, its wild passable wilderness fronds shaking, weeping in the that I fly over as easy as a heat, trembling. dove, her wings spread in the joy of Why am I here? The trees, the plants, the flow- creation. Suddenly I long to touch it ers are here again, to take care of the earth to whisper apologies of abanbut we, we are nothing. doning the roots of my life, the earth that is my immortal These beings are enough to foundation. support the world, yet we are here to cut down But, like an eagle with his eye on prey, the trees, there is no turning back to tear up the earth, and never touch the soil of home once even stop to think. more, We pollute the air, we fill our to let it run through my fingers, the moist brown of home. water with oil The bird shudders and stops, without a thought. its feet touching down in the But here, in the garden, they wasteland of Tuxtla, Mexico. grow without us, The air is warm and dry, singing their own, unique song and I feel my lips cracking as I watch the dust devils swirl in of life. So, the distance, why are we here? a harmony of dry. At my grandma’s house, the vibrant colors begin to form once again in her garden of honeysuckle and rosemary and butterflies and all the other creatures that inhabit this rich soil.
Have you ever heard the song of the trees? As though a winter wind has taken hold, they sway in time to the music only they can hear as the sun beats down on their exposed trunks like a machete. The tree that I sit under sings in harmony, creaking and groaning as
Goodness only knows where she found that here. A rusted metal ladder winds its way up the roof, to the white plastic house that sits there, a greenhouse. I love it here, with the smell of fresh dirt from the newly opened bags of soil that cover the greenhouse floor. I love the potted seedlings that are growing on the roof, sheltered from any other life. But most of all I love the green I can see on both horizons, spanning the distance between L.A and San Cristobal, Mexico. Pods swirl around my head, dandelions and pollen from a jasmine plant dance on the terra cotta tiles of the roof. I walk to the edge of the roof, where the noise of bees drinking from the fragrant honeysuckle blossoms is easily heard. The wind takes up a chanting call as the sky darkens over Mexico, but I will not leave this roof, not yet. The butterflies, headed towards somewhere or another, swirl past as though stuck in an orange and yellow and clean white whirlpool. My feet are almost off the roof now as I spread my arms wide, the wind buffeting me in the early night, and I call to the sky, as though in prayer “ thank you for this, for the wind, for the butterflies, for the flowers below, for my home, for the plane that took me here... and thank you, most of all, for this moment where I am truly feeling earth’s grander, for the first time ever!” And with that, I descended the ladder down from the roof to my home soil from which this world was born and it suddenly occurs to me, the ultimate question: Why am I even here on this earth that needs no help from me to be beautiful?
Poems by Sophie Felt
Nature Punch
From time to time I cradle my knees and sit in the grass, trying to keep myself occupied. I pick the flowers and grass and break them apart. Do you wonder and destroy? I slowly break the rock within me. So that my love can peek out, but when that love is dead, I use it to nurture my next love. The soil is made of me, my love and healthiness builds it up. My grandpa’s ashes will make our avocado tree grow. His life wills flourish new life. When I dig my hands in to the soil of the avocado tree, do I feel my grandpa?
Brisk breathing and unstable steps I stomp past looking for something extraordinary A small bush of five flowers under an arching bush
Am I here to be used, to be felt by some child? I want to be felt. I want to resurrect.
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Not extraordinary enough Walking away, then a solid gold butterfly punches out of the bush calling me back to the now breath taking flowers I sit myself down brushing the wood chips off my skirt Above me a watercolor sky, some places not gone over twice The waterfall veins of the petals start a blood red then fade into a soft orange They bob around in the wind like bumper cars The bush covering it has lamb ear leaves, the baby lamb blocking the elements of its prime jewel But one streak of light hits its delicate petals The wind hits but the flowers trudge on I snap out of my focused faze not wanting to know anything but the ways of those sheltered flowers
Cool Propaganda Poster!
Plant a garden, sprout a future! Page 6
Profile of a Westridge Tree By Sophie
The Jacaranda grows well in Mediterranean climate. It ranges in size be between 2 to 30 meters. They are valued for their beautiful flowers. Page 7
The History of Arlington Gardens! By Hannah As you walk into Arlington Gardens, the cool clean air greets you, carrying the smell of Jasmine and wildflowers. The sand path crunches under your feet as you admire the pepper trees that loom above or sneak a peek at the landscapes that the artist next to you is painting. Maybe you stop to watch as a multi colored butterfly glides onto a lupine flower to open its orange wings. Either way, Arlington Garden is a bit of paradise in the always busy city of Pasadena, CA. But this garden hasn’t always been here. This property once belonged to a wealthy area of Pasadena nicknamed “ Millionaires Row.” This property, called “Arlington Heights” was purchased by a man named James Durand in 1902. The original house was torn down, replaced with a mansion modeled after a French Chateau. The house was adorned with hand carved wood, gold, arizona sandstone and more. This house on the Arlington property turned out to be 17,000 square feet with three stories and fifty rooms. This house was known as the biggest in Southern California. A lavish garden was planted in front of the house, complete with cacti, roses, palms and other “tropical plants” to create a “tropical paradise” in Mr. Du-
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rand’s garden. The home was intact till 1960, then the furniture and art and other components of the house were sold and the house itself demolished. For 40 years, this property remained inert and passive as it waited for the construction of the 710 freeway, which never ended up happening. In 2003, a conference was held on what to do with the property, whether to make it a parking lot of playing field or to make it into a sort of community garden. The community garden idea won. Betty and Kicker McKenny started the Arlington garden as a water-wise native garden. Their work on the garden has been outstanding. When the property was vacant, there were only 10 trees, and sense the beginning of the garden, almost 400 trees have been planted in Arlington gardens. So when you walk through the meadow at Arlington or sit and admire the maple trees, remember that a mansion, the biggest house in southern California once stood at the spot you are standing, or you are standing in a place where a towering cacti or a century plant once lit up the streets of “Millionaires row.” And now, you can enjoy the climate friendly, native garden called Arlington.
“...Arlington Garden is a bit of paradise in the always busy city of Pasadena, CA.”
Who’s Who in Gardening: Leigh Adams By Jane With exuberant pink hair
kinds of trees they were. She said the best way is to
and bubbly personality, Leigh Ad-
look at the bark and the leaves because each tree is
ams stands out in any crowd. She
physically different. We looked at some of the Ginkgo
taught Spanish, Outdoor Education,
trees around the quad. They had little blossoms grow-
and Folk Arts at Sequoia Elemen-
ing with the leaves. “You know how you can tell what gender these trees are? Males have these blossoms,
tary School for seventeen years,
and females don’t.” She also said that the female trees
and loves children.
grow fruits that smell absolutely horrible, “…so when
Leigh is also a resident and
you’re planting a tree, do a little research on it first!”
a professional artist at the Pasadena Arboretum. She specializes in glass art and mosaics and has a wonderful time doing it. She has made friends with her co-workers, some of which talked to us today during our rotations. Leigh is also very connected to nature and loves gardening. In her backyard, she has more than 40 fruit trees. Some of the things she grows are guavas, three different kinds of oranges, grapes, avocadoes, and peaches. Today she came to campus and talked to seventh graders during The Tree Walk rotation. There she talked to us about all the different trees around the quad, and how you could tell what
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When you are building a house or planting native trees, place them on the side of the house that gets the most sun in the middle of the day. That way, the trees and/or flowers get the most amount of sunlight possible!
Letters from the Editors Attention readers, You may think this issue may be much ado about nothing but it is about embracing the beauty of soil and the organism of the year. During the soil unit (our inspiration) we visited the Arlington Gardens and there we took soil samples and took photos. We also did a lot of planting and got very dirty. We learned about topsoil loss and its effects. Soil is not just that gross and stinky stuff beneath your feet. It is a whole food chain it is responsible for our food and biodiversity. Hope you enjoy the issue. Sincerely Sophie
Dear “Green Gazette” Readers, This week, I, your editor, had an amazing experience in a Unit called “Soil Unit” in school. We learned about the importance of soil, native plants, water and other things that help our ecosystem. One thing that really stood out to me was our trip to Arlington Gardens. I loved watching the Lupine and poppies in full bloom and admiring the Pepper trees that surround the property. Collecting dirt from different places to see how many microorganisms live in one place was fascinating as well. Walking through the stone labyrinth was peaceful and meditational, and writing poems really helped me look at the gardens in a different way. I remember how we were instructed to look up while taking notes for our “One wild and precious life” poem, and when I did, I saw a beautiful orange butterfly, framed against the blue sky that I would not have seen otherwise. Also, I saw a red crested woodpecker pecking at a palm tree, looking for some type of grub. It was amazing to notice the little things in nature that I usually do not.
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Another fun thing was when a few gardener from the Arboretum came and showed us different thing about gardening. For example one lady helped us plant an herb garden behind the campus commons. It was great to work in the garden as a team, hauling stones and digging holes and watering. We also learned about the different types of trees across campus, like the camphor tree in Raney court and the huge live Oak in the quad. Another thing that I liked in this unit was that I learned how to work in a team better. We worked in teams for almost everything: Making propaganda posters, making a magazine, doing our rotations and more. I usually am not a big fan of working in groups, but in this case it was more fun and easier to have lots of peoples ideas involved. All in all, this has been a very fun unit. Learning about plants and soil were very interesting, more so than I thought it would be, and I wish I could do it again! Sincerely, Your Editor Hannah Dear Readers, Over the course of six days, I have been in the Soil Unit at school. It was half of a day, every day, where everything was dedicated to soil. Before the unit started, I thought, “Soil? Really? What is there to learn about soil?” I was wrong. Not only did we learn about all different kinds of processes soil goes through, or how we need soil to survive; we did hands-on activities and went on field trips to put our knowledge to the test. This is very similar to the water unit in a sense that we are learning about concepts that most schools don’t teach in a hands-on, “down and
dirty” way. I personally really like this unit. It takes up all of our core classes (English, history, math, and science), so it lightens up the homework load. It’s also nice to ease our way back into school after a break. Instead of going right back into all of our regular classes, we slowly go back into the curriculum. It’s also nice to get out of the routine once in a while. Having one routine that you do every day can be very unhealthy for your brain. It’s nice to experience a new way of learning. I also like working in a group. I heard some people saying how they had to do all the work in their groups, but I think my group worked really well together. We balanced out the work and we were really organized. The field trips were also so fun! I loved heading over to Arlington Gardens and walking through the labyrinth. Not to mention that it was beautiful there too! The Pasadena community Garden was fun too. It was very satisfying digging up the weeds. This morning, we went on a hike in Descanso Gardens. It was great exercise and the views were beautiful. It was a lot hotter than I expected, and going down the steep mountain was scary and fun. I thought this unit as a whole was the perfect way to learn about interesting things and go out of your comfort zone. I would happily do something like this again. Sincerely, Jane
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YOUR WRITERS CREATERS, AND EDITORS!!! JANE
SOPHIE
HANNAH
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