June in the garden, is there anything more beautiful?
It rained the other day so I woke in the early morning, trying not to wake the dogs, and tiptoed out into the garden. At dawn the light is soft and the colors are deep and saturated after the rain. I am alone with my thoughts.
I notice that the rabbits are becoming more brazen and have made their way into the garden beds despite our dogs who patrol the perimeter constantly. Little buggers! So far I think my biggest foe is the birds who like to eat my new seedlings. I bought a jumbo bag of sunflower seeds so I just plant more.
I notice one of my cabbages has gone to seed and my lone pumpkin has died of blossom end rot. Hmmm.
The Strawberry Hill roses are in bloom! They smell divine.
I notice I am ruminating about the wedding I went to a couple weeks ago and replaying every awkward moment. Sometimes I feel like I just don't know how to be in the world anymore. Is it midlife? Post-pandemic social anxiety? Just the inability to communicate coherently sometimes? Hmmmm.
I notice the nasturtiums are blooming such an intense, neon orange. The color doesn't look real it's so vibrant. I look for other flowers in the garden with that much intensity of color and find nothing that compares.
A young coyote visited the field a couple days ago and I caught a glimpse as he jogged away. He looked back at my dogs who were completely losing their minds. I wonder would would happen if they all met in the field, my dogs and the young coyote. Would they play? Would there be awkward conversation and the inability to communicate coherently? Or is it just natural? No over-analysis. No rumination over word choice. Hmmm.
The bees are rampant. Must plant more catmint.
Bert opens the back door, coffee in hand, and waves. Having never really been a builder of stuff, he is proud to have built most of what is in the garden- arbors, fences, raised beds. He is surveying the garden and the projects we've undertaken together. I smile.
The sun is coming up.