Baseball games may be rained out, but I, as a gardener, am rained in. It wasn’t so long ago that I was lamenting the lack of rain, and since the pump for our outside watering system was burned out, my garden was very thirsty. I was schlepping water by the dozens of sprinkling cans-ful to the neediest of veggies and new plantings. Now all of these botanical beings must feel that they are on a binge.
I think my theme here is that we gardeners are never happy with what we’ve got…always yearning for the Camelot weather–when “rain will never fall ’til after sundown”, and then in just the required amounts. Our daily sunshine should be sparkling bright but not hot enough to burnish.
And yet in spite of it all, looking out at any garden, yard, woodland, meadow, landscape this week–isn’t this one of the most beautiful times of the year? I’m sure we could rival Ireland and have 49+ shades of green. And among the verdancy (I didn’t make that word up–I looked it up)there are brush strokes of purple of the iris and wild phlox, globes of reds and pinks of peonies, and the brilliance of orange from the poppies about to pop. Quite a scene–even if you are looking between the raindrops or through sheets of them.
I could tick off a long list of chores still to be done…starting with the removal of those crafty weeds that are especially adapted to take advantage of the rain…going on to what still needs to be planted, transplanted, and pruned.
But for today, it’s not so bad to be inside…admiring, assessing, and anticipating.