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 other day, Jenn wondered what it might look like inside the sunflower blossom, and so this morning, I was able to catch a couple closer shots of this latest yellow mammoth, as context for this very busy bumbler. Each of them should get a bit bigger if you click.

I think one of the things that fascinates me about looking close at the sunflower is that you realize that what we think of as the flower is actually a whole garden of tiny flowers, arranged in a ring.

Those big yellow petals are like flags, landing strip markers…something to indicate to the pollinators that there’s something wonderful here. It does seem there is never a sunflower without some busy bee digging diligently through it.

Just about every morning lately, the two Super Sweet 100 plants have been providing me a handful of tasty cherry tomatoes as a breakfast-y snack while I’m exploring the border. I think that’s actually why I like having them out there. Convenient snacking while gardening.

I suppose there are worse reasons to choose a plant. When I am patient enough to let these little beauties get to that perfectly deep red shade, they are a rich sweet mouthful of Wow.

The portulaca isn’t blooming quite as steadily as it had earlier in the season, though the six little plants I bought have grown into a lovely tangled cloud of succulent foliage around the base of my Flower sign.

Perhaps part of the problem is that they are now a bit shaded by giant sunflowers, corn, sulphur cosmos and cleome. But every now and then, there’s a rosy little blossom to enjoy.

And in the category of Things For Enjoying, the clematis vine on the lamp post, which is now almost entirely a study in frilly seedheads, has this morning presented one more purply-blue flower.

One of the things I love best about August is that the dragonflies don’t seem to be in a hurry to get anywhere. In July, they flit about, exploring the world, getting to know one another, eating their share of the more annoying insects. Dragonfly business. It’s nearly impossible to get a good photo of them.

But then August arrives and I suppose we all slow down just a little, or want to. And if you want a good dragonfly photo, that’s exactly what you have to do.

This little dragonfly perched on a dried daylily stalk along the walk in the back yard late this morning, seeming to enjoy a peaceful moment to soak in the warm sunshine.

It was one of those mornings where the sun seemed to come and go a little, fading now and then behind a bit of cloud, it’s color and brightness ebbing and flooding like the wash of the tide. There was an easy rustle of trees and their leaves as the wind seemed to do the same thing, the tide becoming long, deep breaths.

Today, the dragonfly wasn’t just enjoying a quiet August moment. I felt like he’d stopped by with a message for me. Something about being still and steady now and then, and remembering to take the time to enjoy the warmth of the sun.

And to breathe.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: