Smoke from Canadian and Midwest Wildfires sweeps across Northeast and Mid-Atlantic States (New York Times, July 17)

The dense smoky air from far distant wildfires, 1500 miles away, blankets our tiny lake refuge, hot morning, July 17

In this month’s blog:

Wildfire Smoke: Will We Get the Message?

July Miracles from Our Polyculture Garden

Climate Log: “Drill and Kill” But a Glimmer of Hope

The July 2026 Photo/Video Gallery

Grey Catbird in Red Maple, southeast bank, smoky July 17

Wildfire Smoke in Our Little Refuge: Will We Get the Message?

At the south end of our lake, a mat of smoke particles covers the water, hot morning, July 17

For the second time in three years, thick smoke from wildfires in Canada and the upper Midwest–1500 miles from our little refuge– has been blown by summer winds across the US Northeast and mid-Atlantic states. This year’s fires, born, as always, from the extreme heat and drought caused by fossil fuel emissions, have brought record high air pollution to Toronto and to US cities from Minnesota through Ohio and Pennsylvania, to New York, New England, and all the way south through Virginia and North Carolina.

Predictably, the US President blames Canada, one of his favorite scapegoats, for the fires that keep ravaging the dry, dry thousands of square miles of forest, mountains, and tundra. Of course, he doesn’t mention the more than 1000 wildfires currently burning in the US, across all regions. But everyone else knows that this Administration’s cruel lust for oil and gas (“Drill, baby, drill”) and the restrictions on renewable energy sources are deliberately spiking the emissions, which

• make the air increasingly foul,
• intensify drought and heat around the world, and
• weaken health.

How bad was it here in Northern Virginia? Not nearly as bad as it was in the more northerly states, but, starting on Thursday morning, the 16th, the burn smell was everywhere. The sun for three days was never more than a dull disk in the sky, and our little lake was spattered in many places by mats of gray grit fallen from the sky (see photos above and below). A few of our Canada Geese braved the less gritty patches of water, or clung to the land, but most of our birds–and our usually intrepid turtles–did not make an appearance. We humans, especially us older ones, were urged by authorities to hunker down inside. Lucky that we could.

The weak, smoke-shrouded sun on the morning of July 18 above the lake

But on Saturday night, the 18th, lightning, thunder, and hard rain came down (.8 of an inch!) and by Sunday morning the air was clearer. So what is the message from the smoke? The drought-enabled fires keep burning in Canada and across the US Northwest and Plains states, the heat dome is still above most of the US, the President just keeps ignoring/intensifying climate change, and so I guess it’s just wait for the next time.

But what about the birds and all the other creatures who can’t just “hunker down inside”? See the climate log below for two opposing answers being given to that question.

Mourning dove in dead Willow Oak, east bank, smoky July 17

6 Canada Geese stay out of the smoky water, July 17

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Polyculture display: Marigolds, Mint flowers, Green and Jalapeño Peppers in our garden, northwest corner, July 26

July Miracles from Our Polyculture Garden

Cosmos, Berry, Petunia, Speedwell display in our garden, July 26

It’s high time I discussed the “Polyculture” that is our tiny garden in the community plots in our town. Our much larger California garden for all those years (2007-2022) was also a polyculture, which means

“the practice of growing multiple plant species together in the same space, mimicking how plants naturally coexist in wild ecosystems” (harvestsavvy.com)

In a wetter summer climate like ours has been, soils are hospitable to nurturing a wide variety of seeds close together, as you’ll see in our garden photos, like this one:

Polyculture at work: Hibiscus, Peruvian Daisy, Buttercup, Mexican Marigold, Speedwell flourish beside one another, July 18

or this one:

Ripening Tomatoes (at right), Coreopsis, Zinnias, Wild Blue Aster, July 3

The monocultures that dominate US agriculture –huge fields of one crop (think corn or soybeans) all in rows–make machine farming possible and efficient, but that “neat” arrangement has also  affected how many small gardeners think of their plots, as having to mimic the row-by-row, crop-by-crop structure.

However,  Nature doesn’t follow the rules of Big Ag. Nor should those “rules” hinder small gardeners from using their limited space for planting lots of different species. Nor should it stop any gardener from just “seeing what happens” when , say, Zucchini, mild Peppers, hot Peppers, Strawberries, Rosemary, and five different types of herbs are planted a foot or less from one another.

Volunteers Welcome. And guess what–not only can these varied plants thrive in these close spaces, but also “uninvited inhabitants,” like various grasses, Speedwell, and other volunteers manage to poke their roots and rhizomes and shoots among all the other plants. In most cases, we’ve found that there’s room enough for everyone to thrive in the crowded conditions, though even we will spend some of our time pulling up the “uninvited,” when it looks like someone (like the Speedwell or the Crabgrass) is crowding out some of the plants we’ve put in.

This is our entire plot, plus a few of our neighbors’ plots, viewed toward Northeast, on the early morning of July 20. Productive, lush, but definitely not “neat.”

Our Harvest, So Far

One day’s harvest from our garden, displayed on “Virginia” cutting board in kitchen, July 18: from left, Nasturtium leaves, Mint, Tomatoes, Strawberries, Blackberries, Tarragon, more Mint

Our five Tomato plants are the stars, as always, with about 400 small to large Cherry Tomatoes having been picked so far, and turned into ingredients for stews, pasta dishes, and omelets. or already frozen as sauce (4 jars so far) for the coming year.  Many, many more small beauties are in the pipeline at various stages of ripening.

Tomato-and-Pepper sauce on stove, July 16

Three of our Tomato plants, with still more fruit ripening, July 20

Our 2 Mild Pepper plants have produced 5 fruit so far, with more growing. Our Jalapeño plant has produced 4 hotties so far, with more on the way. Our early-producing Zucchini plant gave us 5 long fruit, 1 of which is still waiting in the fridge. Like last year, though, the plant couldn’t handle the heavy rain in June, so it’s gone. Unlike last year, when our Crookneck Squash was productive into July, this year’s 4 plants never took off. We’ll try these again next year.

3 Green Peppers growing, plus tasty, colorful Nasturtiums, July 15

The Bountiful Herbs

These never disappoint. Three perennials, Oregano, Rosemary, and Mint, have returned in profusion and attract pollinators with their fragrance (the Mint also makes a great tea!). Our Italian Basil is thriving, the Chives (another perennial) have been doing great since May, and the Tarragon is licorishy, its yellow flowers a bright delight. The  biggest surprise has been the Dill, a species I had had no luck with in dry, hot California, but which has thrived here in the greater moisture beside our Tomato plants. Finally, the Nasturtiums, a first-time plant for us,  sparkle the garden with their orange flowers and their spicy-sweet leaves, which go great in salads.

Herb variety from one day ‘s harvest displayed in kitchen, July 20: top to bottom, Oregano, Chives, Tarragon, Rosemary, Basil, Mint

Dill plant, with its famous green feathers and surprising yellow bouquets, July 20

Look for other delights from the garden in this month’s Gallery (below).

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Photo and Range Map from the Cornell Lab of Ornithology, July 23

Climate Log:

So what will happen to  wildlife as Smoke, Drought, and Heating Get Worse? 

One answer: “Drill and Kill” Becomes Fact

“Drill, Baby, Drill” is now actually “Drill and Kill,” as the  Trump Administration has demolished this month the Endangered Species Protections from drilling and mining. Here are 2 headlines from July 12:

“Federal Rollback of Law Imperils Wildlife: Reduced Habitat Protections Increase Risk for State’s 300 Endangered Species” (Jack Flemming, Los Angeles Times)

“The rule change ends a safeguard that had been in place for 50 years and could hasten the demise of imperiled animals.”

If you have time, please click the link, and read the brief press release from the Center for Biological Diversity:  https://biologicaldiversity.org/w/news/press-releases/trump-administration-kills-protections-for-endangered-wildlife-habitat-2026-07-10/

A Second Answer: More than a Tiny Glimmer of Hope

Led by organizations like the Center for Biological Diversity, the Cornell Lab of Ornithology,  the National Wildlife Federation, and many other groups, millions of people in the US and around the world are fighting back against the wildlife killers.   Watch the inspiring intro video on the Cornell Lab website to get a delectable taste of what these organizations are doing, and how you might join in the necessary work.

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Huge Sunflower looms over Cardinal Male in our community garden, early morning, July 20

The July 2026 Photo/Video Gallery

Blooming Marigolds in the garden, plus more about to pop, July 23

Red Cosmos blooms in the garden, July 23; this perennial reappeared in late June

In our garden, Nasturtium leaves and flowers, morning, July 18

Rock Dove perches briefly on a rock along the north shore, July 4

In the garden, fragrant Mint flowers and Tarragon ease the smoky air on the morning of July 18

Blackberries ripening in our garden, morning, July 20

Cosmos bloom and Hibiscus bloom, our garden, July 15

View toward southwest of lake, cloudy July 12: 10 Canada Geese swim along the shore

Wild Blackberries ripening along the east bank of the lake, July 4

Atop Red Cedar along the northwest shore of the lake, Mockingbird calls, July 4

House Finch Male, at feeder on the southeast side, very hot July 4

Prickly Lettuce, first blooms, along the east shore of the smoky lake, July 17

More polyculture display: Petunias, Impatiens, Mum plant, Snapdragons, July 20

Our lush Basil plant in the garden, July 18

House Sparrow, pensive, in Willow Oak, east bank, smoky July 17

Red Snapdragons and volunteer Swamp Milkweed, plus Mum plant, east of lake, July 23

American Crow, atop tall Oak south of the lake, July 20

Ripening fruit in Strawberry plant, garden, July 18

Cardinal male chirps and feeds on Sunflower, community garden, July 20

View along lake toward downtown, with Purple Teazel in foreground, cloudy July 12

Swamp Milkweed amid the polyculture of the north end lake shore, very hot July 4

Mourning Dove scans from the dead Willow Oak, east bank, in the smoky air, July 17

Community garden: a neighbor’s corn and zinnias display, July 26

Red Hibiscus closeup in morning sun in our garden, July 26

And on to the last week in July and then on to August, in polycultural joy and hope…