I remember worrying about tidy rows. Organized rotations. The choreography of organic vegetable gardening.
I know, now, that milkweed and potatoes can be friends with a volunteer squash sidling up.
Or that an asparagus crown doesn’t mind a four-year-old beet over its head with a pin cushion to the side and lettuce and onions all down the bed.
One more week and the garden isn’t mine. I picked a lot of carrots today.
I am crossing my fingers the seeds from the brassicae will be ready by Monday. I will gather them however they are and find out in a few months if they were ready.
I need to research asparagus crowns. Mine started as seeds in the laundry room years ago and I don’t want to upset them through my ignorance during their removal and transport.
Anyone remember when I planted the potatoes, by chance? I think, sadly, they still have a month to go but perhaps you know differently.
I doubt the onions will bulb, but they’ll green.
I doubt the Spinach will cover, but it’ll sprout.
I doubt the radish will reach giant sizes, but they’ll lend pops of pink to the world for a short bright while.
My thumb is split and splitting more yet. My nails peel and my scalp hurts. My heart is sore, my mind spins, and old fearful aches returned home to roost.
And so I look to others to bloom.
Nasturtiums calling hello.
Volunteer mystery squash shining through.
Snow peas’ purple greeting.
Snap peas white nod has passed.
Red potatoes without red petals.
Blackberries without black blossoms.
A mess of friends of all ilk.
I’ll see if I can’t tend my soil a little more. If I can’t feed my roots a little extra. If I can’t water my leaves a little softer. I’ll see tomorrow.
The only kind of blooming onion I like.
And a pepper pick-me-up.
Almost on cue, the garden is packing it in for the summer. The tomato vines are drying up. Some fruit ripens on brown vines. Other fruit dehydrates where it hangs.
With some help and a helper’s chipper, any soil exposed by the dying crops is now mulched by the gift of a fallen limb.
It may be a bit early, but I couldn’t help myself. I have the first of the fall crop transplants sown in plugs in the laundry room.
The outdoor oven (aka the weather) has begun. Perhaps I’ll set aside some corn stalks for Halloween. They’re drying where they stand quite nicely.