The rains have slowed and the number of sunny days here in Tulsa is on the rise. This is the honeymoon period here- the days when all is well in the outdoor world and the day’s woes can be alleviated with a step out the back door. The temperatures fluctuate between 90 and 70- depending on the time and the day. It won’t be long and the mercury will rise- residing well above 85- even at night. It is not unusual for the days to linger near the triple digit mark well after dark. But the heat is not what gets me. Nope, I am a little like the lizards who seem to like it. The full emergence of mosquitoes will soon dramatically impact my zen-filled moments in the sun. Until then…
These past few weeks we have been scurrying about the garden and yard, pulling weeds, planting, sowing seeds, watering new sod, repairing sprinklers. And we have finally arrived at that golden hour when we crack open a cold one and take a long satisfied look our efforts. The sound of water pouring into the reservoir of the newly acquired water feature, surrounded by tranquil ferns and lacy Japanese maples amid a sea of smooth river rocks accompanies the songs and calls of the company of birds holding court in the treetops.
I make a silent vow that THIS season will be better. Hours of labor have yielded an immaculate oasis, and this is the year that I will not allow nature’s tenacity to get the best of me! I will monitor the gardens for pests. I will maintain a daily ritual of patrolling the raised beds to prune, weed, train vines, and eliminate unwanted insects. (Are you laughing yet? Surely, this is the garden hobbyist’s equivalent to a New Year’s Resolution.)
These daily tasks provide respite from computers, dishes, laundry, and whatever monkeys might be parading through my head. Often I am rewarded with the sight of a new bird, which I must immediately identify, or the sighting of a small shy ringneck snake, and often I marvel at the beauty of the butterflies and moths. Sometimes I discover a tiny tree frog clinging to a leaf or witness a small lizard dart in and out of sight. This year, the lizards seem to have multiplied in numbers and their cautious sprints across the rocky terrain thrill me.
Gardening is a journey and I hope to encounter a few fellow travelers. Do you garden? What motivates you to turn the soil? How long do keep your annual promise to be a more diligent gardener? How long do you think I can keep mine? (Hint: not long.)
