The back beat to these lovely pursuits was the ever-present Disco boom-boom-boom of filling the shelves with soaps and balms and teas and herb blends, in preparation for shows beyond our regular scope. We barely lifted our eyes from our work.
This is the beauty of perennial herbs and food plants. They just don't care!
The one plot, where I usually plant vegetables is fenced in. It is now full of foxtails, chicory, and ragweed, taller than me. A couple of the borders, where the perennials grow, are basically out of control.
There were a few annuals that we took care of, but other than an occasional mowing and pulling back the weeds to gather specific herbs, we've been lazy gardeners.
We've been picking the ripe elderberries each evening, and freeze about a quart every day.
The persimmons are hanging heavily on the branches.
Molly's boneset patch is vibrant.
Last year I pitched some fennel seeds out into the field, and now the first row goes something like this:
The fig trees have both recovered from the severe nibbling they took over the winter.
Horehound. That is one tough plant!
The passionflower vines have gotten very comfortable, sprawling around the corner, and holding hands with the sour cherry tree.
The passionflower is also beginning to set fruit.
Our white vitex (not as pretty as purple, but very strong) died down to the ground over the winter.
And of course the Meyer Lemon.
There are still a few things around the front of the house, like California poppies, mallow, echinacea, and a few straggling cornflowers. In the back, the horseradish is lush and tall, and soon we'll harvest a few roots for fire cider. The witch hazel is huge, and I picked a bunch of it a couple weeks ago to distill our own hydrosol (turned out great).
Still, the tempo has mellowed and quieted, as if in response to the changing quality of light. Just as the plants take note and start to shift gears, so do we. Soon, we'll visit the beach for a true goodbye to summer, and then it will be autumn. A little waltz of final preparations for the lullabye of winter.