June is characteristically about roses and rosé is it not? Weddings, graduations, the start of summer – so much to celebrate! This year, it started off as expected. In fact, the first two weeks were gorgeous. Sunny, dry and very, very pleasant. Then arrived week 3. A rather hellish heat wave. Each time I stepped out I was in a sauna. Ugh. I stepped back in.
Thank goodness for air-conditioning but spending so many hours indoors had me feeling crabby. I resented not being able to spend hours in the garden. Really, I should’ve taken advantage of this house arrest situation and got caught up on books and movies/shows. Instead, I found myself getting antsy about a myriad chores pending which was all rubbish because nothing pressing was being neglected. I made lists of tasks that ran well into early winter and took to behaving as though it was a big conspiracy against me by Nature.
I was eventually able to talk myself into being more reasonable. Routine tasks could wait. Instead, venturing out in the (slightly) cooler hours were spent indulging in paying attention to what was in bloom. I observed. In doing so, I noted that there was far more happening in the meadow than one perceived. For one thing, amidst the native but thuggish wood anemones, were some long lost Indian Pinks blooming their hearts out. I’d all but given up on them because they hadn’t been seen since being planted two years ago. Their unoppressed counterparts on the other side of the meadow, were putting up a splendid show. Thrilling certainly but discovering what I thought I’d lost was even more exciting.
The pale pink candelabras of Veronicastrum were glowing pretty. Their graceful structure bring height and elegance to this somewhat wild looking space. Astilbe and Monarda were also in bloom – I’d quite forgotten that I’d added more. They too had not been observed last year. Then, it dawned on me that I was away for a whole month this time last year. Of course I’d missed this whole show. Silly me. We gardeners are so insecure. We feel abandoned by our plants way too quickly. We need to have more faith in them – they really do want to please us.
I assessed that the jewelweed was up to its old tricks of seeking to take over the meadow. Some serious thinning out is required. See? A more true and practical list was shaping up.
I noted in my necessarily slow stroll in the garden ( anything more vigorous was sweat inducing) that the persimmon and magnolia espaliers had had quite a growth spurt. Add to list – prune them back to define the patterns in which they’re being trained. The magnolia is in bud and the persimmon has developed fruit – this is immensely exciting because it’s the first time for both! The babies have grown up.
Surprisingly, I observed that the plants in the front garden are not as wild looking as they’ve been in Junes past. Perhaps, the Chelsea Chop will not be needed. An item off the list!
The front arch, the one on which the New Dawn rose had performed so well till this year because the chipmunks had munched up the roots over the winter, is making a comeback. Until 10 ten days ago, there had been no sign of any life at all. But now, one limb is leafed out and in the time I’d been hiding indoors, it had even bravely put out two buds which of course succumbed to the heat. So, I shall not replace the rose. It will be relieved of the dead limbs and given some TLC instead. So glad I hadn’t rushed to dig up the rose. Delaying action to wait and see often pays off.
The summer window boxes are looking blah and a redo of sorts is in order. The front walkway and the brick paths in the potager could use the old hot water treatment to stop those emerging weeds poking through. Get ‘em young.
General weeding and deadheading concludes the new list. Not so extensive at all. Leaves me with plenty of time to smell the roses and sip the rosé.
Some of what’s in bloom right now –
(c) 2024 Shobha Vanchiswar
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