Fall starts for kale and cabbage, broccoli and cauliflower, and my first try at a fall cucumber.
The potatoes have poked through and the beans have shot up. Come on, fall!
With these from feet away and peas in the salad picked moments before, our meal is made.
The beans will be ready for a first pick tomorrow or the next day. The peas will have their last harvest the next day or tomorrow. The tides turn with their speed. The earth spins with hers. The garden moves at its own pace. I’m merely here to watch it turn.
These weren’t far under.
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.
Besides, it gave me the good fortune to witness the opening of these…wild crocuses? I do have some Prairie Crocus here and there, but the centers of these little wildlings look different (more like a cone), as do the leaves. Any ideas?
I also managed to sneak in some seed sowing (even if I had to keep my phone on me for a little work wrangling.)
In case you couldn’t tell, I’ve never been one to invest in actual labels. I’m not sure why. Instead, I tend toward taking pictures of what went where and the metadata of the photo captures the day and time for me automatically. Perhaps I’ll treat myself to labels soon enough. (I did receive some lovely ones as a gift this year, so it really is only about actually using them at this point…brains are silly things.)
Now if only the peas I planted in their midst would sprout…