This time of year, I lose interest in the garden. It’s a combination of the heat, the maintenance and the harvest.
I like to start projects, not maintain them. I make things happen and watch them grow.
My husband likes to graze through the garden to thin the fruits of the zucchini and pick through the chard. This year the harvest is late. Our tomatoes are small and green. Our flush of strawberries are months later than I expected.
Sometimes things go like that. You fasten your seat belt, feel under the seat for the life vest and you push off the shore.
And sometimes you have to wait, work on your own time and pace, heed the silence and the growing process.
I’m trying to be at ease with the rhythm of my soul while navigating the currents.
I’m working on some secret projects. I’m alternately excited and scared. I don’t mean to be vague, but it isn’t the right time to let them be handled and poured over. They are still too tender and new to be unveiled.
Letting myself be OK with this.