Glorious Summer

Sunflower leaves, as they rustle in the breeze, sound like commuters in raincoats walking to work.

I am an ungainly peasant, bent over, yanking out roots of life’s green impulse. Even as the weeds go limp they send out the freshest breath. I apologize to them for my human-centric approach. I may be impressed by morning glory’s sneaky charm, but climbing up tomato stems and smothering beans is not allowed.

Strawberries keep trespassing where peppers and eggplants grow. Sunchokes stomp into the potato bed. Dill sprouts everywhere. The humidity is thick as oatmeal but I am grateful for all of it.  The harvest, heavier every day, reminds me how the weight of minutes lived also tips the scales toward the farther side.

I straighten up, making a little oooof noise as I do, and wave to the remaining weeds. “You, my friends, will live another day.”

Canning season has arrived. The kitchen holds two big bowls of ripe tomatoes waiting to be transformed into salsa.

Staggered planting of beans keep us from being overwhelmed (so far) by dozens of plants bearing at once.

Paper and straw laid down in the center of our giant sunchoke patch form a lovely Secret Place for small people.

Our bottle tree garden is easy to maintain because plantings are spaced far enough apart for us to mow between rows.

Even the cauldron plantings at the front of the house have refused to stop blooming.


About Laura Grace Weldon

Laura Grace Weldon is the author of three poetry collections --- Portals (Middle Creek, 2020), Blackbird (Grayson Books, 2019), and Tending (Aldrich Press, 2013), as well as Free Range Learning, a handbook of natural learning (Hohm Press, 2010). She lives on Bit of Earth Farm where she's a barely useful farm wench. Although she has deadlines to meet she often wanders from the computer to preach hope, snort with laughter, cook subversively, ponder life’s deeper meaning, talk to chickens and cows, sing to bees, hide in books, walk dogs, concoct tinctures, watch foreign films, and make messy art. Blog: FB: FB: FB: Twitter: @earnestdrollery
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4 Responses to Glorious Summer

  1. katechiconi says:

    Love how the witch’s brew in your cauldrons is boiling over in glorious Technicolour! Here, spring is coming, and I must make plans to get things into the ground before the enormous heat and humidity arrive.

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