I have found yet another excellent reason to garden: What better place to put my energy when my daughter-in-law Erica is having her first baby, our first grandchild?

There we were, my non-gardening spouse John and I, having coffee on the deck, watching the baby chickadees fledge and here comes the call from our son: Erica's in labor. "How prophetic," says John. Indeed.

There is nothing more primal than giving birth. Or more lonely, except death. All the books have been read, all the appointments have been met, all the necessary and immediate decisions have been made, the husband is attentive, the medical staff is trained and caring. But when it gets right down to it, there is no one but you, and you have to make this happen.

So here it was, Erica's turn in the circle of life to give birth. And I started ripping out forget-me-nots and "Arctic Fire" dianthus, by the wheelbarrow full.

Cecilia Anne was born at 2:11 p.m. and I shall forever think of her as a chickadee.

That morning we watched as our trees became safe havens for about a dozen young chickadees. It would seem they all fledged on the same day. I suppose that would be the way it is in Nature. They settled atop the trellis, in the mountain ash, the amur chokecherry and the raspberries. They seemed to be all over the place. The morning was filled with their eponymous cries and I am grateful that we have created this haven for bird life. For life.

Absolutely everything pales in comparison to the arrival of Cecilia. But as life goes on, literally, I am faced with the mundane. And that includes watering the garden.

We have been reclaiming the water that our sump pump would normally send gurgling into a drainage ditch and using that to water our ornamentals. This is saving us a considerable amount of money on our water/sewer bill every month and, we hope, is environmentally effective.

The native spruce, mountain ash, amur chokecherry, lilacs that we planted six years ago have been getting at least five gallons of water a week. But the thought crossed my mind: What if we stopped watering? What would happen? I put in a call to Tom Jahns, the extension agent in Soldotna and he thinks I can go one of two ways: 1. stop watering and the tree will develop a deeper root system, enabling it to find water on its own or, 2. continue to water and expect the trees to continue to put on fast growth. What a choice.

The effect I am after is to fill in the east side of the house with trees and shrubs just as fast as I can. We have been here for six and a half years and it is just now starting to look like we are settled here, that this is not a "new" house. But it takes water to establish these plants, including the roses. So, as long as we can reclaim the water that is being pumped out from underneath us, we shall water. Spruce have a shallow root system anyway and they do so astoundingly well with five gallons a week that I'm just going to keep watering. So there.

But I have also discovered that the caraganas (Siberian peashrubs) that are forming a hedge on the west side of the property are on the invasive species list for Alaska. Rats. These are covered with yellow blooms late spring to early summer and fill out fast, plus the moose will leave them alone. I have been recommending them for years.

This past fall I noticed that they had dropped an enormous amount of seed, something that I had not seen before. The ground beneath them is absolutely covered in seedlings this year. I even bought a new tool to remove them. It looks like a horseshoe on a long handle and it's sharp. I drag it over the ground like a cultivator and it cuts everything ( and I mean everything, so be careful) off at the base of the plant. Very slick. I have been able to control these caragana seedlings with this tool. Excellent. But not good enough.

I think to be really responsible, I will need to remove these shrubs. Goodness. How drastic. But invasive is just that, and I do not want to be the one responsible for the demise of something that is native and lovely (or not) and just wants to survive.

The orange hawkweed is in bloom at this very moment. If you have any of this very nasty plant in your garden, please pull it up, cut it down, dig it out, do whatever it takes to get rid of it as soon as possible. I am seeing whole lawns of this plant. Horrid.

The office for the Department of Soil Conservation is in the blue building on the corner of Lake Street and Pioneer Avenue. They have excellent handouts of invasive species and, unfortunately, there are many of them. It is wise to familiarize yourself with exactly what is what.

The one that drives me the most crazy is linaria vugaris (butter and eggs). It is everywhere and even if you do think that it is pretty you won't after about three years and there is nothing else in your garden.

Invasive species is a powerful term and we need to pay attention to what is on that list and take action.

Now.

Note: The Homer Garden Club tour will be Saturday, July 16. Meet at City Hall at 2 p.m. to carpool.

Rosemary Fitzpatrick has been gardening with gusto in Homer for 27 years.