The peonies took a beating from last week’s rain. An explosion of densely packed petals, the exquisite blossoms already seem more weight than the stems can bear – but a clinging rain is definitely too much. Collapsed against each other like drunken buddies, pinks turn to rust and shatter. I managed to pick a few bunches for the house and to give to neighbors – a day or so of peony perfume, captured.
Yesterday the sun returned, bringing summer. Or so it seemed. The air heavy with humidity, the garden a jungle. It was a day to garden. Yanking at the bittersweet that threatens to strangle every growing thing in my yard, I felt like our house might get swallowed up by this invasive if I just let it go. I am only eliminating twisting sprouts – the network of grasping roots runs deep and stretches far like some alien creature lurking just beneath. So I stay vigilant, not willing to sacrifice my lilac, the blueberries, not even the mint also trying to swallow up my vegetable patches.
Or rather, the varmints’ vegetable patches. So far, they’ve devoured the parsley and red basil plants, the cucumber seedlings I’d admired one day were gone the next. Ground hogs, rabbits, squirrel? I think they all join in the feast. They don’t bother the tomato plants – not yet. It’s early days – still time to get a better fence. But more likely, as in years past, I’ll surrender to sharing.