After a rainy spring, we’ve had no rain for something like five weeks. Garden’s really dry. I’ve nearly run out all my rain barrels and had to resort to the hose. This year I’ve attached a chlorine filter, though it slows the stream considerably. And I'm mostly watering what we eat rather than what looks beautiful, despite the predatory bindweed that threatens to smother it all. Yet the hyacinth beans (Dolichos lablab), which I’ve been struggling for years to grow, are blooming manfully. I had admired a neighbor’s many moons ago, and had religiously planted seed in my beds each year hoping they’d grow up the fences. No dice. This year, I started some in the green house, and lo and behold, plants! They’ve even survived the rabbits, which are overrunning us this year. So much so that I’ve found fox spore practically next to the house. (It’s an amazing fox year, too). But back to the beans. They’ve been such a help to my outlook. I walk up to the garden, knowing that there are wads and wads of things inside that need tending desperately, a discouragement before I’ve even begun. But when I see those bean blooms, spikes of them standing like decorated soldiers with the glossy burgundy pods hanging beneath, I get inspired. At least, they encourage me to try.

Growing it and eating it

It's amazing how fast things go ( and grow) this time of year. Two weeks ago, the multicolored peas (bottom left) from Cook's Garden were barely through the ground. Now they're like a botanical version of Janis Joplin's coif. All unruly and refusing to be tamed. But lovely. I can hardly keep up with the bindweed (Convolvulus). Little sprouts appear everywhere, climb up a fork left for a day against the pergola, sneak up the stalks of the trumpet lilies and grab hold of the bee balm (Monarda didyma) in an often-successful attempt to wrestle them back down to the dirt as though they resent the Monarda's sturdy character. It's a perpetual battle, not helped by the guilt produced by those glossy pictures of perfect gardens you see in magazines. But I've had lettuce and herbs out of the garden so far, enjoyed the iris and peonies immensely, and have just last night cut my first bok choy, a real beauty. Next week, I'll probably have peas.