It is the rich season, the time of plenty, an overflowing bounty of blooms and berries.
It's the perfect growing time in the Pacific Northwest, where the rain still tumbles down
every week or so, the sun shines through, and everything rejoices, grows and flourishes.
In my little garden the peas are stretching up their trellis, ever higher
they reach. The calendula shout their vibrant yellow-orange riot song, coming up
where ever they may, wanting to fill the garden world with their cheery blooms.
They remind me of one of my first gardens, a cottage cloaked in calendula
on a little alley in Eugene, it was so very long ago.
The lavender wafts its sweet notes into the air, and the bees take note and visit each
and every blossom, I try not to disturb their important work as I harvest
just enough for a bit of tea.
Berries are bountiful, harvesting once a day is not enough. The red raspberry
jewels drop to the ground, perhaps fortifying the ground critter friends,
perhaps just making a show of their royal abundance.
Some are devoured in desserts, others preserved for summer memories during winter,
others are given to neighbors whose fingers have passed their berry picking years.
It's hard to remember back to just a few months ago, when the ground was barren,
all our flower friends hibernating just under the soil, waiting for the summer sun.
How fast and furious our flower friends fill into their spaces, and then overflow.
This is the season of abundance, this is the season of the bee dance,
the season of berries on everything, the season of uncontained growth,
this is Oregon's summer solstice celebration.