Beckoned?

When love beckons to you, follow him, though his ways are hard and steep.

– Kahlil Gibran

Another view

The T-Town Tomato Towers

Soon to be Taneytown’s newest tourist attraction... The tomato towers are complete and installed. The structure system is a combination of the towers themselves, from a design in Mother Earth News, and a trellising idea I saw at the Rodale Institute test farm in Emmaus, Pennsylvania last summer. Still have to add the bamboo cross-pieces to separate the plants. As configured, one “run” of two towers handles four tomato plants. In a long row, with an extra tower, it would handle seven. (I wasn't planning on the towers, of course, when I planted, so I ended up with a too-small variety under that right one; maybe it will catch up.) If the tomatoes grow to fill them — which they should, based on past years’ experience — they should be awesome. There will be lots to can, although I seem to be coming up two jars short.

Hands-free gardening

I've adopted a new habit: Walking the garden with my hands clasped behind my back. It tames that ceaseless compulsion to pull "just a couple" weeds in passing, and lets me focus on how pretty everything (other than the weeds) is.

Only a gardener would care...

It was a good weekend in the garden, despite the heat. It’s been a while since I’ve had an uncommitted weekend to tend to it (although I’m not complaining), and what a difference it made. I cleaned up “the edges” in the cottage garden, around the gate, the main sidewalk, the back door; pulled everything around the dahlias in preparation for their show of white; somewhat ruthlessly pulled much bergamot, which was taking over every empty space; continued the never-ending trimming of the buddleia; discovered (hopefully) the shoot of the calla lily (white, too) that I thought was a dud; and freshened up the mulch all along the way. About a 1000% difference in the look and feel.

I’m ever impressed with the geometry of garden spaces; the plans I was recently working on, with compass and ruler, were just a tapestry of tangents and intersections, circles and squares…just like life, I suppose. Here on Saturday, I added a small, narrow, linear bed along the side of the chicken yard that marks the passage from cottage garden/dining space to the production garden/fire space, and planted it with foxglove (for next year’s bloom). What an amazing effect that little bed has. It pulls you right into the production garden, and straight to the central angel.

In that garden, the tomatoes, peppers, and beans are taking off. Started picking peas, beets, and turnips. Most of the lettuce, except for the red heads, is bolting. Cauliflower and broccoli are all done. Already(?) scanning the catalogs for fall planting.

Daughter helped me to put cages around the last eight tomato plants tonight (more on the first eight tomorrow). It was way too late, they were way too big, but we got them on.

By this time it was dusk. I lit the torches and lumieres, and we reveled in a veritable ocean of fireflies in the surrounding fields. We dined al fresco on grilled pork chops (Scott’s) and broccoli steamed minutes after it was picked. I suggested that, for something different, we not put our napkins in our laps, but daughter rejected the idea.

All in all, it was just a magical evening. Summertime, and the living is fabulous!

P.S. BTW, three kittens have shown up here (or more likely, were born here). I started feeding them Saturday. Cute white-and-black ones. Need some homes.

P.P.S. The hazard of gardening here in this part of the world, where poison ivy is the next largest crop after soy beans and corn — I have patches of it virtually from head to toe.

Unrelated thoughts

Something I overheard recently:
"Take the leap, and grow your wings on the way down."


Something that occured to me recently:
There's a big difference between really caring about someone and just caring about how someone makes you feel.

Today...

"The dance of a Summer day calls my steps; may I respond to the rhythm and melody of its music."

– Caitlin Matthews

Worth

"It is a piece of great good luck to deal with someone who values you at your true worth."

– Baltasar Gracian

Another Season's Change

The garden has kicked into official summer gear. Harvested lots of lettuce, strawberries (though I ate few myself, and the June-bearers seem to have choked out the ever-bearers), broccoli, cauliflower. Everything is taking off. Soon, the house will be lush with fresh bouquets.

Meantime, I’ve gathered up and shelved all the poetry books from my bedside and reading chair. It’s time to stop reading verse and start writing some. It is sure to be bittersweet, perhaps sad, at first, but still optimistic, if only between the lines. There is a core of joy, a (perhaps naïve) belief in surrender to love, and a peace bestowed by values that are well-founded, deeply rooted, and true, that cannot be denied.

Neighbors

I wonder what the neighbors think
of my wandering
shirttail hanging out from my coat
like some robed Persian
zig-zagging through garden and fields
talking
to no one
saying your name
head bent up
toward the stars
I must not seem right

that man who lives alone
they say
with his chickens and dogs
he is some kind
of gardener
you can see his flowers
and tomatoes
all the way from the road

(and you can see cars
parked there too
sometimes at night
and in the early mornings)

he talks to the chickens
and the dogs
and to no one in
particular
if you had to guess
you’d say he seemed
happy
or maybe just a little
cocked
or maybe just
too much
alone
they debate
whether he’s harmless
or dangerous
where he comes from
what he does
in that house
all alone

or maybe they pay him
no mind at all
don’t even notice
his perambulations
or his
bergamot
the Russian sage
that he inherited
or the English cultivar
he planted

maybe they don’t notice
the angels that hover there
or the way the light
of the stars
shines there
or how when he calls
to heaven
heaven answers
and accepts his
sweet surrender
to things that grow
to things that breathe
to things that give
light and lightness
to any willing heart.

Breath Taking

You come and you go
Like the whim of the wind
That reminds me to breathe
Or to resist and
Seek shelter.

Or a gentle breeze
Carrying night perfumes
The sweet scent of nicotiana
And the palpable dampness
of midnight.

And then you disappear
Leaving in your wake
A rustling of leaves
And yearning, only
Yearning.

Prayer on the Solstice

A new season begins today, Lord...
Bless our garden with blossoms and fruit
Let the butterflies come and
drink their nectar
Let the bees spread the pollen
Bless the soil with sunshine and rain
and warm nights
and not more weeds than we can pull.
Let us harvest with joy and thanksgiving
Your generous bounty.
Help us, Lord, to tend our lives
as a garden —
with gentleness, patience, hard work,
loving care, respect, humility,
and acceptance.
Let us grow to bear the
full fruit of Your Love everyday,
To feed each other
and all of Your creation.

Happy Summer!

Huh?

"Do not fear mistakes. There are none."

– Miles Davis

Garden Rapport

A week of temperatures in the nineties and adequate moisture, and the garden has transformed. Last week, I was selectively thinning lettuce to get enough for a salad; this week, I can’t pick it fast enough. Last week, I was pulling every other beet to use the greens; this week, they are already too big.

The tomato plants have doubled in size and are blossoming. The potatoes are blossoming. The squash seem to grow inches every day. Probably five quarts or more of strawberries so far. And soon, I will pick the first zinnia.

The weeds of course, are having their day as well. I pulled five wheel-barrow loads from the cottage garden alone. So it grows.

Finally, something from Bill...

"There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so."

– William Shakespeare

When I awake...

When I awake in the morning,
It is either the very next day
after many, many days
Or it is the very first day.
Today, it is the very first day
Of what exists now.

–Twainhart Hill

Someone said...

"What's let go of provides space for what's to become."

The Last Hafiz...For Now.

AND LOVE SAYS

And love
Says,

"I will, I will take care of you,"

To everything that is
Near.

–Hafiz

Just a few more, Hafiz...

THERE

There
I bow my head—
At the feet of every creature.

This constant submission and homage,
Of kissing God
All over,

Someday,
Every lover will
Do.

Only
There I prostrate myself—
Against the beauty of each form—

For when I bring
My heart close to any object
I always hear the Friend
Say,

"Hafiz, I am
Here."

–Hafiz

Blue Indigo

Blue Indigo
Originally uploaded by rebetsky.