One gardener's observations, discoveries and random thoughts whilst simultaneously worshipping and dallying in a Cape Cod garden. "A garden," said Ralph Waldo Emerson, "is like those pernicious machineries which catch a man's coatskirt or his hand, and draw in his arm, his leg and his whole body to irresistable destruction."

The scent of the honeysuckle drifting in the window last evening and scenting the driveway in the warm sun of morning is absolutely intoxicating. It makes me feel silly and nostalgic and fresh all at the same time. But t’would be an exercise in frustration to attempt further description, so let me just share another image of the flowers, glowing in the early morning sun.

There was little time to tarry in the garden this morning, with an afternoon’s wedding and reception to prepare for at work. I went staggering out into the light with first coffee in hand to hook up the soaker hose and then let those first real waking moments find me as I let my eyes wandered around the garden.

The foxglove are hitting their stride. Indeed, a few of the lower flowers on the stem of this first one have already let go and twirled down to the floor of the garden.

The beans are showing nicely at the feet of the corn seedings in the Three Sisters Garden – I’ll be sowing squash seeds there, too, in a few days. It looks like the first snapdragon will be a pink one. Several of the lilies are beginning to show buds. Recently deadheaded marigolds are rebounding quickly with a ratio close to two new blossoms for every faded one I snipped. Wee…

And once everyone had a reasonably good drink (and I’d managed a second cup of coffee), it was off to the showers to prepare for the day and all its details.

My congratulations and best wishes for long happiness go out to Carrie and Jon, who exchanged teary vows and then celebrated through the rest of this longest day of the year.

I’ve shown you several of these little red roses over the past couple of days, but haven’t really mentioned them.

This is the rose plant I rescued from beneath the remains of a fallen tree, when I was playing in the orchard garden in Eastham. It had been growing there on the rustic trellace that looked a little like a DNA strand. Their fragrance matches that of those white roses, making the air just a little richer with flavor.

That trellace, I’m sorry to say, had reached the end of its useful life and didn’t make the move with us. I must gather up some new branches to make a new one sometime soon. That’s always a fun project, as you never quite know what shape it will take until you see what the branches themselves suggest.

One of the Supersweet 100 cherry tomato plants in the border has already flowered and is now showing its first tiny green tomatoes.

The earlier columbine flowers have all turned to seedpods now, though it will be a little while before they have dried enough to release the seeds. Meanwhile, a second flush of flowers (about half the size of the original blooms) has now begun a little lower on the flower stalks.

Yet another variety of dianthus has joined the vast chorus of its cousins now. I’ve had this red one for four or five years now…possibly a little longer, actually. I admit I’ve lost track. It was a container plant most recently in Eastham, but I was happy to put it back in the ground here…and apparently, it’s happy, as well.

One of the long day’s true highlights was getting word that two of my very favorite people, Sara and Danny, were in town from Manhattan for the briefest of stays this weekend and extending a dinner invitation.

After I’d gotten home from work, wandered the garden a little and had a nice walk around the block with Em, I got back into the car and went off to see them at the beach house overlooking Cape Cod Bay.

My timing could hardly have been better, too, since I arrived to find Danny in the outdoor shower, following an afternoon spent doing battle with the installation of a new storm door.

I think he thought I was kidding when I said I needed pictures for the internets…but you can’t invite a photo blogger to dinner without some possible consequences, now, can you?

The ever-lovely Sara already had dinner prepa rations well under way and we got caught up on a variety of topics, including plans for the upcoming December nuptials in New York, while Dan finished up in the shower.

The wedding should be great fun, especially since it also turns out to the weekend of my birthday. Celebrating in the Big Apple sounds like a great plan to me. Fingers crossed that all my personal logistics fall into place for getting there.

Dinner was wonderful: Baked flounder, spicy sweet potato fries, grilled steak and corn, a few beers, excellent company, many laughs…and a perfect summer sunset for dessert!

After sunset, the bugs settled down and we hung out on the deck and wandered along the beach, the sand in our toes, as we chatted about all manner of things and generally enjoyed one another’s company.

As the day drew to a close, we retired inside away from the no-see-ums and creeping fog for a showing of that classic feel-good movie, The Big Chill.


Comments on: "Summer’s First Saturday" (1)

  1. […] co-worker) Sara’s wedding to Dan.    Readers of the Midnight Garden may recall them from a beach house evening or two last summer and earlier, […]

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