morning

I went out to begin the watering but found myself admiring the abundance of a summer garden. It’s not long ago that I showed you the hopeful beds of March, with their painted signs and tiny sprouts of garlic (which is all harvested and hanging in the woodshed to cure), a little clump of chives, the first crocus — and a lot of bare soil. We’ve had runs of hot weather followed by days of heavy rain and other than producing slugs the size of the late dinosaurs, the results have been pretty fine.