saturday

I mowed the lawn early Saturday morning. Grace still exists in the garden, but it comes in the morning, before heat rolls in, or in the shade of giant trees in afternoon, or with the breeze of air that comes up unexpectedly. So I work in those parts of the day out of the sun and heat, now here, then over there. There is great value in living among tall trees, particularly in their dividing the sun's streams of direct light. As long as I can squeeze out six hours of direct light, the sun loving perennials are happy.

Still, I need to raise the canopy a bit in both yards. I have an internal debate -- is that the limb that needs to go? What happens if I cut this one?

For the past few days I've noticed bee balm or monardia that I had planted a couple of years ago in what turned out to be the wrong place, overshadowed now by the beautyberry. I divided and moved them, along with a neighboring summer phlox that has also suffered from a bad location.

Chives are opening, and I have them everywhere. Not the trashy wild ones (although I may have a spot or two of those out by shrubs or in some corner of the yard that doesn't get my attention too frequently). No, the lovely, humble chive, member of the allium family. The purple thistle-like flower sits atop its green (and grassy) foliage. When I first started the garden four years ago, I bought ten or twelve little seedlings and have since divided and moved the now mature clumps throughout the garden.

The cotoneaster, a grubby little shrub, a gift from a neighbor's yard, is in bloom, covered in tiny pink flowers. Columbine are blooming throughout. I thought I had lost one and found yesterday a tiny shoot of its clover-like leaves. I'll move it to a better spot.

Tomatoes have gone in the community vegetable plot in the back yard. Which is to say, neighbors have planted the tomatoes. I hoed out little bits of weed and grass here and there and helped string up a plastic netting for the pole beans.

And I watered most of the flower beds. I prefer weekly soaking and I'm usually stingy with watering, but it is critical for all the various seedlings to keep their environment moist.

In a far corner, under a large pine, is the wood pile. Mostly broken and pruned tree limbs. I must do something about this. The bearded irises are opening up. The old fashioned one, found in shade a few years ago while weeding, is now thriving, and I try to pay attention to its reddish wine edges, yellow and splatterings. The whites are lovely. Short blooms, but worth it.