High Summer is Perfection

Sitting on the porch just now, at dusk. The "sun garden" (redundant, for a smarter gardener than me, I know) is growing nicely - tomatoes, peppers, two kinds of squash, cucumbers, mustards. Everything is potential right now, the hope of a bountiful harvest. Nothing to do but wait and watch.

The lawn is mowed, and growing more slowly, now that the weather is warmer and we're well into summer. I feel less anxious, less overwhelmed by the rigor of growth.

Caterpillar season, finally, is over. Meaning, we don't have piles of caterpillars everywhere, caterpillars eating the vege foliage, caterpillars in our hair and sometimes, yes, crawling in our pants (ick!).

All is quiet, all in balance. The hard work of spring paying off. The "shade garden" was mostly a failure--everything spindly and sun-starved--but I'm eating what I can. Next year we'll problem-solve, either move the whole thing or let it be. No point in working against nature, setting ourselves up for disappointment.

I see below a typo - "Easter medicine" instead of "Eastern medicine." What would "Easter medicine" be? Something hopeful, I think, something which infuses hope after darkness.

Silence and slowness are settling in. Welcome, welcome, peace of summer.