That’d be nice to have planted, to attract some butterflies and because the little boats of pods and silk are fond memories.
I envy the cultivar daisies but I want wild daisies for a sunny spot, and trilliums, dog-tooth violets, all the native forest floor plants to reinstate what was once here a couple centuries ago.
Know what would also be nice? To have peppers survive to our table. The second big one was swiped. Them being eaten at the picnic table is civil of the critters and all, but I’d rather see the pepper turn red.
I suppose gardening is a variation on plant a tree you will never sit under the shade of.
I thought the pole beans didn’t come up but when I look closer I see the ones that did are chewed to the ground. Chicken wire is now around the survivors.
Radishes are coming up. First and second planting are weeks apart but thanks to the heat and rains all coming together this week, they’re the same size.
And some squash that was way past proper planting time but threw in the ground anyway? Three of them coming up.
Such amazing fertility of seed. You could rake and bale the amount of sow weeds and creeping joe and manitoba maple seedlings and crab grass. Where invasive species meets invasive species, that’s a kind of rainforest thriving, except everything is inches tall.