I give thanks that, this summer, temperatures in West Los Angeles did not rise into the upper nineties (Fahrenheit) and more. While I enjoy the privilege of staying indoors during the hottest parts of the day, there were times I had to brave the heat for medical visits. On August 19th, I also began weekly sessions of physical therapy for what my young new doctor determined, after X-rays of my knees and ankles, is osteoarthritis. Thankfully, on my return trip home around 11:15 a.m. after my physical therapy session, I can take refuge from the heat under a tree near to the bus stop. What’s more, I stay hydrated with coconut water.

After a year of suffering with intense pain in my heels after an hour’s walk, I now know the cause and I’m getting help to strengthen the muscles in my hips, glutes, and thighs. Except for a setback after doing 30 repetitions of squats during my third session—now reduced to ten—I’m making progress. Last weekend, for the first time in a long while, I did not have to limp indoors with aching feet after just two hours of gardening.

To avoid the hottest times of the day, I’ve been gardening from four to six in the afternoon. At this time of the year, it’s still light outdoors as the sun sets a little after 7:00 p.m. Most of the plants have been happy with watering twice a week: the gardener waters on Tuesday; I water on Saturdays. With the hotter summer temperatures, my son’s Tiger Eye flowering plant needed watering every two days. It looks like it’s happy with my care. After a month without producing flowers, it began flowering again last week (see photo below).

The firestick succulent, planted in the ground near the wall adjacent to our parking garage, partially collapsed on Friday, September 12th (see photo above). Had I known that it was suffering from heat stress, I would have watered it with more frequency.

When it comes to taking care of the diversity of plants, I don’t always get it right. This is especially the case with regards to pruning. Over the years, I’ve observed that pruning encourages new growth. But there are times when I make a drastic cutback, as happened during the spring of 2024 after receiving a potted Ficus benjamina ‘Samantha’ plant from the landlord’s son (referred hereafter as Sonny).

On discovering that it was infested with white blight or mealybugs, I sprayed it with my home-made pesticide of neem oil, baking soda, and liquid soap. After that failed, I set about removing all the branches. To avoid spreading the infestation to other plants, I took care not to disturb the invaders. Had I been too drastic?

Summer and Fall 2024 came and went by. Not a single leaf appeared on the naked and mutilated Ficus plant. Thinking that I had killed Sonny’s plant, I considered buying another Ficus when my son took me to buy plants on Mother’s Day this year.

“Give it time,” my son told me. “It will grow back.”

And it did.

The first tiny leaves appeared in the final days this spring. New branches and shiny leaves sprouted with new vigor of rebirth. What a relief! Samantha lives! (The photo below was taken on September 13th.)

The Euphorbia umbellate or African Milk Bush semi-succulent tree, a gift from one of my son’s clients, also underwent drastic pruning. For over a year now, the twenty-foot-tall potted tree had shown signs of ailing with sparse leaf growth in the summer. In early spring, I cut off the tall slender branches, leaving only a new branch. When the pruned branches lost their sap, I knew that there would be no regrowth. Only the new branch showed some life. What had I done?

Salvation lay in the new potted plant that I had successfully cultivated from a tiny clipping three years ago. As shown in the captioned photo (the green/rust red, leafy plant), the new African Milk Bush is now three feet tall.

Wonder of wonders! The mother Milk Bush did not die. During August, the first signs of new life appeared at the base of the Milk Bush, as shown in the photo below taken on September 13th.

During early spring, I also decided to prune three branches of the tiny leaf tree that were hanging down into an adjacent pot. (Please share if you know the name of this tree.) The exuberant response of this delicate beauty was unexpected. What a gift!  The photos below were taken on September 4th.

Although I continue to prune the dragon fruit cactus to contain its spread, it surprised me this summer with two delicate white flowers (shown in the photo on the left below). Considering that few pollinators visit our urban garden, it’s a miracle that one of the flowers is evolving into a fruit (shown in the photo on the right below). I suspect that the pollinator is the large black-with-red spider that lives nearby. As a first-time observer, I’m reluctant to remove the crisp-dried flower that’s still firmly attached.

As with pruning our plants, letting go of ways of being that no longer serve our individual growth comes with risk. More so, when we must let go of our toxic relationships. Recovery and a positive new way of being may take time, but it’s worth the pain of letting go. Rejuvenated, we can reach for the sky like the tiny leaf tree.

While we humans continue to fight and kill each other over conflicting beliefs and political ideologies, Mother Nature quietly reminds us of the beauty and strength in diversity. We have only to be still for a moment and pay attention. She keeps me grounded and connected to what is essential. I give thanks for her gifts and lessons learned in my small urban garden.