Clyde, our house bear, may be camera shy, but he wasn’t shy when he found I’d forgotten to close the back gate to the garden. He has good taste. Zinnias, peas, beans and swiss chard. Like any sensible person, he refused to eat kale. Most of these delicacies were growing in a VegTrug, which is a bed raised about three feet above ground, just at easy snacking height. This is the same Clyde who knew that he had to unscrew a wing nut from beneath a bird feeder to get at the seed. I don’t think he made it to Yale, but he got his Ph.D. somewhere.
The bear’s calling cards:
The plants will regrow, and I have a new incentive to keep that gate closed. Clyde’s visit was the first one to our garden this Covid year, except for daughter Ahni’s family who live ten minutes away. Usually, friends have visited by now for a drink, a chat, a dip, a meal, a look at the garden. But we were on lockdown until a week ago and, so far, Clyde is the first to venture out. But those in our susceptible age group are leery about tempting the virus, so I’m not looking forward to any crowds this year.
Over the years the garden, like all works in progress, has changed, but we follow the guiding principle that there should be something new happening every week or so, usually new blooms with a variety of leaf colors, flowers and perfumes. That way we may show off a different garden every few weeks. In the absence of actual visitors, I thought I’d offer a virtual tour of what’s going on toward the end of June.
That’s when the roses guarding the entrance come in bloom along with two clematis vines, one blue, the other red.
The little rose garden also brightens, and milkweed, planted for the monarch butterflies, shows its orange and yellow flowers. Meadow sweet with its pink clouds opens and climbing hydrangeas, which thrive in full shade, add their drama and perfume to the pool shed (also known in higher circles as a “cabana”).
Although all proper gardens are gardens of weedin’, they should provide for moments of repose and reflection, always made better with an appropriate beverage. On fine days we do that with our morning coffee, beginning the day with bird song and natural surroundings, and don’t spoil the day with news or computers till around noon.
A mellow afternoon:
Stay safe, stay well, watch your garden.