lost a day somewhere. thought i went one day without writing, but i’ve gone two. thought i had until today to renew a library book, but that was yesterday. don’t know if i lost friday or saturday. don’t know where it went. some days seems so full; others are so empty they disappear.
to tell the truth about the day requires that something happened.
the two of us spent all of early evening working in the garden. it is still summer, the sun still hot on my hair. but i feel the coming of fall. the air is comfortable; fruits and pods begin to shrivel; branches and stems nod to a breeze, a cool breeze so delicious after the hot, humid summer that i stay out of doors through the mosquito bitings.
we finished filling the new raised bed today and planted in it the stunted tomatoes that have spent all summer languishing in seedling pots. it’s probably too late. it is too late, but still, it is done, and we have hope. and a tarp that may nurse them for a couple of months yet.
one of the tomatoes by the back porch found earth with it roots, eked its way through seedling pot, terracotta pot, and a layer of brick. it found a way to flourish despite our lassitude. its many arms reach and lean across all three porch steps, nursing a dozen swelling tomatoes and many flowers yet to fruit. we make things so complicated–hatching perfect plans, building perfect raised beds, looking for perfect pots. ever trying to do the “right” thing as summer passes us by.
i don’t regret this season of incubation, slowly forming the garden into a shape that suits us, that belongs to us. but it’s easy to forget we don’t have to try so hard, carry so much angst. shove some plants in a pot with dirt and water, set it in the sun, and it will grow. no fancy steps are required to grow some tomatoes. it’s hard to fail as long as you are out there working the ground. sometimes, gardening–living, surviving–is simple.
we are finally feeling at home enough in the garden, finally past the getting-to-know-you stage, to starting pulling out plants and moving things around. cleared out the herb bed, cleared back the raspberries, transplanted the sage today. it’s very satisfying to dig a big hole in the ground.
now there is a beautiful blank space in the middle of the herb bed, waiting for pots of strawberries and who knows what else. a patch of possibilities.