Summer

It’s a no-garden summer. There are a few flowers that I only have to spray for bugs and mulch for no weeds. Those are  once-and-done chores.

So here I am with time to weed the gravel on the lane and pick out the weed barrier pieces that have appeared where the gravel went thin.

The painting also turned out to be a once-and-done project. Mom told me that I ought to divide that hosta, but she went home and forgot about it and I like it big.

This poor daisy is beautiful but has no friends or companions as they say about plants and gardens. But it’s because the vegetable garden has shrunk and disappeared away from it.

Also the rabbits aren’t eating the vegetable garden, because it’s not there. In fact, I wonder about those rabbits. I’m not growing anything in their favor this summer. They’re still living in the grape arbor, cherry tree thicket. But no fresh zinnia sprouts, no green bean leaves, no cabbage, or carrots. I read Watership Down last winter and if that story is a fair judge of rabbits; it’s a fact that I had underestimated their tenacity. It’s just as well that I have given up. They haven’t, to date, moved away.

Raspberries, at last. Just in time to replace the fun of the roses which have become infested overnight with those ugly, glutinous beetles. Some sort of larvae, a million strong, will decimate any rose buds hence, unless… Unless I fight back with spray or powders. That means no more rose water. But I have enough now. So I think it’s worth a try.

Lovely mornings on the patio totally eclipse the little challenges of gardens this summer. I sit and breathe the beauty of our summer. It’s so sweet and fresh. Is it extra lovely this year?