This is the time of year when all my hard work in the garden (and Tom's, too!) starts to pay off. Everything is generally neat and tidy, the blooms are bursting, and the party's ready to begin. Usually I look for reasons to celebrate in my garden. With other people.
I mean, I do love to just sit in my garden and enjoy. And we do that. Pretty much every evening at the end of the day. But gardens are meant to be shared!
Usually, I host my book group in my garden. I volunteer to have small meetings right on my patio. I invite friends over for drinks or knitting. We host our giant solstice party. But not this year.
So I'll share it virtually with all of you instead!
C'mon back . . .
People are usually kind of surprised when they come through my garden gate . . . into the back yard . . . because you can't really see my garden from the front of my house at all. It's kind of a secret garden.
(Pretend I remembered to move the yard waste bin out of the way before taking this photo.)
I have gardens beds and landscaping in the front, too. But the Main Event is in the backyard. It's private and hidden and comfortable. (As in not fussy at all.)
It's, well . . . a lot of work (because this is only half of the back yard...), and Tom and I do all of it ourselves. (Except the mowing. We do hire out the mowing.) But it's a labor of love.
Right now, my garden is in its Purple Haze blooming phase.
There's the wisteria dripping from the pergola. . .
and the globemaster allium holding court over the hostas.
I've got false indigo . . .
and several types of perennial salvia attracting butterflies and hummingbirds.
I wish we all could sit around the patio . . . on this glorious day . . . sipping some wine and enjoying the blooms together. But like so many other things these days, we'll just have to imagine.
Thanks for coming along!
. . . 'scuse me while I kiss the sky.