Summer’s Bounty

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The cornucopia of summer

Summer is alive with transition. We push our fingers into wet warming soil, carefully dropping tiny seeds. Watch as the first early summer shoots rise from the ground. Wait with anticipation as we tend with trepidation, fearing hail, marauders, weeding, supporting, watering, feeding. And, finally, late summer we reap. Grateful for the bounty bestowed.

From garden to plate.
From garden to plate.

The rhythm of the season, like the pacing of feet or a song of words, a steady progression yet filled with hesitation, tumbling, skipping, harmonics.

Our work is not yet done.

This year a new friend said, in a tone not quite right, “you’re quite the gourmand,” as I used her oven to make my first ever batch of dried tomatoes.

Went visiting for a day. Came back to this small avalanche of garden produce.
Went visiting for a day. Came back to this small avalanche of garden produce.

What does this mean? To be a gourmand. Aren’t we all. Isn’t that what life is about. To take the toil and labour that is life and change into it something delicious. Beautiful.

Transitory in existence. We consume our lives, each moment worked for, tended, worried, cleaned, built, and finally eaten.

Shouldn’t we strive to create rich flavour for our heart. Life built from the seasons as best can.

So yes, I am. I am quite the gourmand.

Quick drawing for a marsh marigold.
Quick drawing for a marsh marigold.

A quick drawing while lounging in the new hammock.


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