b'THE ORME OASIS UPDATEISSUE #4G reetings from the Garden,I f you were all here this week you would know that it has gone from the ethereal kindness of spring weather to the relentless heat of summer in what feels like record time. We forget each year how small the window of perfect days really is, so quick is the shift here in the desert. In a month we will all adjust a little bit and we will savor the days that are only 85F. How is the weather where you are? Im a gardener, this is not just small talk. A change of wardrobe (Im in my Summer Overalls! Theyre so lightweight.) is not the only indicator of the season. Atmospheric temperatures and soil temperatures are intrinsically linked, which either sounds totally logical or totally revolutionary. Sure, deep down the soil is all the same temperature. But the most important part of the soilthe top foot or so since were talking annual vegetable plantsvaries along with the weather. This means different kinds of plants will thrive and others will try their hardest to make seeds and then call it quits. For example, squash and beans love to be planted and will race to see the sun. However, lettuce is simultaneously self-destructing by turning its sweet leaves bitter and sending up a flower stalk because its roots are too hot. We do try to control the temperature of the soil with things like mulch and row cover, but we cant totally control nature. A bundance at the oasis is being seen more and more through the ripening of plums, nubs on fig trees swelling into recognizable shapes, subtle flowers of mulberries and pecans dangling beneath fresh leaves, and the roses just barely starting to burst. It is also seen in the proliferation of aphids and their predators, ladybugs. The battle of the sap-sucking vampiric soft-bodied honeydew makers and the comparatively behemoth but-so-adorable ladybug is not that entertaining due to the overwhelming numbers this year. The beetles can just sort of mow them down like cows in pasture, or perhaps like humans in the before-times at all-you-can-eat buf-fets. Every year I root for the big gal, but every year I lose a few kale plants to the little guys. Such is life and death in the oasis.T his week my favorite culinary challenge was also related to seasonal abundance. My challenge: how much cilantro can one fit into a single dish? This delightful herb, like many in the apiaceae family that spans carrots, dill, parsley, and celery, prefers cooler temperatures. After last years snowstorm I remember pulling fresh cilantro out from under a foot of snow, a true testament to how hardy it is in winter. Sadly, heat is like kryp-tonite and our plants will soon be more flower than leaf, rendering them largely useless in a culinary sense. Whenever I need to use a large amount of herbs I turn to one of my favorite methods: pestos. Most people think of the traditional basil, pine nut, and cheese concoction but, much like curry really just means flavorful sauce, pesto is more a way to describe herbs smashed into a paste most often with a mortar and pestle (pesto-pestle, get it?). The key building blocks are fresh herbs, toasted nuts, salt, acid, and oil. This week I mixed cilantro and a little bit of parsley and mint, garlic, lime, toasted sunflower seeds, salt, serrano pepper, and olive oil. Pro-tip: use a food processor or good blender to skip chopping and smashing. I drizzled this and some sour cream on a beef quesadilla, but you could also mix it into beans, spread it on toast, stir it into avocado for a quick dip, or dollop it onto mozzarella and a hunk of tomato for a riff on a caprese. I encourage you to get creative in the kitchen and give your parents a break from cooking. Feel free to email me for tips, tricks, and recipes! I n case you forgot, we miss you. The roses wish they could be your backdrop for prom. Cottonwood seed fluff seems so dull without people calling it snow. Caravan items were never meant to be this clean. Printers and laundry machines are run-ning at random out of boredom. Cholla begs me to go on room checks once a week and you can still hear Mr. Sears singing in chapel every Friday, though in a tone you more often hear in sad country songs. I hope you are all healthy, safe, and happy wherever you are!Many thanks, J. Wolfe'