My garden reminds me of a summer ice tea.
Magic and mundane.
Ethereal and earthy.
Refreshing and nourishing.
Everyday I drink my garden with my eyes. I roll them over each plant, noticing the bugs and the blossoms. I see it but I really do have a hard time visually taking it all in. How beautiful it is. How much abundance there is. How it changes so quickly. It seems just a few weeks ago I was rolling seeds around in my hand. And now I duck through a jungle to locate ingredients for dinner. I hunt for a zucchini to the soundtrack of the neighborhood–jarring horns, loud music, occasional shouts. The city, right outside the garden gate, is hot and irritable. I sit down and sip the cool and quiet. I feel the sensations travel across my tongue, down my throat and through the inner corridors of my body. This is the way I really understand my garden. Drinking it in.
I am the vessel, the container for the brew. Earth flavored tea steeping in my soul.
The garden brew:
Growth in just a few weeks- next two pictures are the same spot
Old South Valley elderberry tree that I visited recently and helped harvest
Mid summer kale- still tender!
Squash and cucumbers and the trusty squash bug spray (equal parts beer, ammonia and dish soap- kills them on contact). The round zucchini is called Ronde de Nice and is a new favorite, so creamy and light.
Garden jungle, inside:
Garden jungle, from the street:
My sitting place.. has been taken over!
Our squash, tomatoes, onions, cucumber, for shish-kabob and our rosemary, thyme and mint for chicken marinade
The garden gate