This is the time of garden hope and burgeoning garden pride. It’s the honeymoon when everything is going well and the bugs haven’t arrived yet for their tasty meals, nor has the drought browned and crisped the foliage, nor have the weeds taken over and the gardener given up the struggle against them.
To those who don’t garden (and until a few years ago I counted myself among their ranks) this sort of post seems a bit quaint and more than a little dull. My apologies. But to those of us who garden or who like flowers, especially in the short and therefore greatly-appreciated gardening season in the Northeast, it’s a deeply satisfying time of year.
And so, without further ado, I’ll show you what I mean:
And I think even Van Gogh might be pleased with this one: