A garden that looks like a jungle. The sunflowers are so tall and thick, it’s hard to see the street from the window. I also see Eric’s devotion and care — the planting, the watering, the weeding, the picking. I see the inspiration for our neighbors adding two raised beds to the thin strip of ground in between our yard and their driveway, so close to our garden that people often ask, “are those yours too?” I see the ingredients for kale salad, zucchini bread, tomato soup, pesto, black bean & zucchini pancakes. I see being able to share, to feed my friends, and also the bees, along with various other bugs and insects. I see the tall white iris Ann gave me the year before she died, the thick purple and white irises that Jennie and Adana gave me. I see the two lilac bushes grown into one mass of green that almost buries our mailbox and where the neighborhood cats always hide, napping in the shade. I see the strawberry patch that produces more every year, might someday make a whole pie all by itself. I see the pumpkins turning orange and remember the kids from last year, riding by on their bikes, finally getting brave enough to ask Eric, “are those pumpkins?” and him answering, “yeah, do you want some?” and how surprised and excited they were, hardly able to believe he would just give them away. I see the luck of where we live, knowing that there are many places that wouldn’t allow our garden, would be offended by the wildness, would try to restrict it. I see the space where our cottonwood tree used to be, 45 years old with a trunk five feet across, that’s now planted with 12 foot sunflowers and three peonies — one for Kelly, one for Obi, and one for Dexter. I see how so much of it, what doesn’t get eaten or shared, will become the compost that feeds next years garden.
I’ve been sharing all my August Break pictures on Instagram, but haven’t put them all here. Some seemed too boring for a full blog post, are old pictures I’ve posted before or ones I don’t have much to say about, like the picture of clementines from last winter I posted in response to the “citrus” prompt. There were a couple in the past few days, however, that collectively seemed like they warranted a full post.
Reading. Always my favorite thing, then and still. This is me at about ten years old, reading, most likely annoyed by my dad taking my picture. Right now I’m reading both Sabbath: Finding Rest, Renewal, and Delight in Our Busy Lives and Overwhelmed: Work, Love, and Play When No One Has the Time — there’s definitely a theme there.