I really shouldn't be sitting here writing a post
when there is a mountain of work to be done out in the garden
it's a little rainy today and she was looking so nice in the subdued light,
I just had to make a record ... for posterity ... now, while the early summer blooms
are looking their best.
I'll want to remember the garden dressed up like this
when the January winds blow hard and long.
Hope for the future and all that ...
She's laden now, positively falling over with her big skirts,
spilling over the wall with self-seeded abandon,
filling every nook and cranny
offering up some feasting for the hummingbirds
and catmint landing platforms for the swallowtails.
I think there's still an arbor under there - but I dare you to try & make it through to the front door.
Gone a bit nutso, this shrub rose [when did THIS happen?] and she'll have to be
reined in for next season. Still, something charming about
this wild misbehavior ...
If you did make it through the arbor, you'd be be met with a frothy tangle - sweetly scented
Philadelphus scrambling through a purple-leaved Clematis recta ...
Oh June, you are a month of the sublime.
You are most definitely your own English rose
... no other month quite compares to you.
A few late afternoon rays help 'Night Owl' flaunt her petticoats.
And although I'm starting to feel terribly guilty about undone chores,
I feel so grateful for this abundance.
Sometimes you just have to stop and, well, you know ...