Perspective from my GardenPosted: August 1, 2015
By this midsummer date, pretty much everything is dried up, brown, or dead. Hot August bears down too hard, too hot, and saps the life out of every delicate plant. I stand in scratchy grass watering by hose instead of sprinkler to soak stressed roots, supply nourishment, and summon growth.
The pencil bush I planted last year has dried up, the little dogwood is limp, and the new pink and white hydrangea looks spent. I sense them all fighting against the elements. The vegetable garden I hoped to eat from all summer is gone—shriveled and browned to nothing but stalks. The little Japanese maple I bought in April and placed in a big pot on the deck dried up in a day’s time as a fiery sun beat down and the heat took its toll. To save it, I dug it out and put it in the ground on a shady side of the house.
Usually, by this time of summer, I am away for vacation or visiting family, and the yard goes to waste. Good things get compromised, and evil things like crabgrass and Johnson grass and wild vines move in. The balance gets out of whack quickly.
It can happen to me, too.
This is a reminder that the tender things in life need care. Life is hands on: daily culling out the unwanted and giving nourishment to the good. I can’t stand back and just let things happen. It changes daily. Ugly, thorny weeds grow faster than blooms. Harsh extremes sap freshness and greenness. The sun bakes everything and curls it all down to the earth in surrender.
I need an innerspring.