The sweet potatoes took on the yellow pear tomatoes and won. The cages now house greenery for the tubers (hopefully) down below.
They made a move for the sun gold cherries but no. Those cherries made a counter maneuver. Take that, sweet potatoes.
“Would you count to twenty and then do the same for the next tall plant and the next one?”
“Right here, mama?”
I hope these little bean flowers make food before the heat causes them to keel over.
Not everything out of place is unwanted in its place.
Sometimes, when harvesting sweet potatoes, I miss one.
Usually, they rot through the winter.
Sometimes, they don’t.
If only they tasted nice at this size.
Thankfully, there were first-year neighbors underground.
The lines were drawn and the advancing vines paid no heed.
Sweet potatoes marching on pumpkin. Watermelon winding through to climb abandoned tomato cages.
A butterfly weed returned to hearty trumpets.
The okra is starting to synchronise. We may soon see more than one per plant per harvest.
And a zinnia has shouldered its way through the green beans to feel the sun on its head.
The garden is giving quite the hurrah before giving in fully to the summer heat.
Sometimes we’re caught off guard and knocked flat.
Sometimes a storm is just what you need.
Sometimes you aren’t prepared for unprecedented growth.
Sometimes you are.
And sometimes, no matter how hard you fight it, passions persist.
It’s a jungle out there.
The paths, left untread, are paths no longer.
But the basil basks in the shaded earth, cool toes wriggling in the damp.
And those who seek the warmth rise above.