“July is the year at high noon.” Hal Borland
Here in the valley the vegetable garden is off to a good start after the wettest spring in many years. Two types of snow peas, bush and climbing, both look like they have escaped from the tropics with their giant leaves.
The peppers all have flowers despite many cold nights and a violent windstorm in June. The windstorm snapped off one poor tomato plant at ground level. My favourite climbing bean, the beautiful purple Carminat, is already twining around its poles. How does it know enough to do that I wonder.
Asparagus was exceptional this year. A few years back I planted a few Guelph Millenium asparagus crowns to fill in some spaces in the asparagus bed. None of these survived the past winter. Fortunately, though, random asparagus seedlings are always popping up nearby and can be moved around where needed. Probably should just have done that in the first place….
My much anticipated giant alliums planted last fall were not so giant in the cold wet spring. They would have been happier with more heat and drier soil. The ornamental rhubarb which struggled along last summer in the drought is finally looking huge and healthy. This last one is strictly a vanity plant. I’m growing it because it’s the closest thing to the giant Gunnera of English garden fame that will survive here. Go big or go home.
The recent blast of heat has brought on the self seeded annuals that give the vegetable garden some colour. California poppies, shirley poppies, nicotine, portulaca and love-in-a-mist are a few of the colourful annuals that pop up every spring. I thin all of these pretty severely or the vegetable garden would be a sea of poppies.
The cold wet spring brought with it the biggest clouds of mosquitoes that I have seen in years.
The front porch was not usable for most of June and working in the garden was a real test of my resolve. I’m waiting for the inevitable swarms of dragonflies to arrive and gobble up some of the pesky mosquitoes. The fireflies of July are here so I’m sure the dragonflies aren’t far behind.
The beavers have returned and given me a pond once again. In clouds of bugs I have paddled my little red canoe up to look at the beaver lodge. Nothing to see there during the day. The engineers come out at dusk when they choose to appear. Mostly, though, I never see them. There is usually just a loud smack of the tail and ripples on the surface of the water. And then silence.
After two dry and not very productive years I’m looking forward to a better garlic harvest this year. I did mulch it in mid June. I don’t always get around to it. The mulch does make a difference to how big the bulbs get but I think the amount of spring rain is even more important.
Happy summer. Never mind about the bugs.
Common Ground Bby Jill Williams
