July 2024
Contrary to all predictions, a cold, late, rainy Spring has been followed by a verdant, burgeoning Summer. Planting everything so late is often a recipe for a meagre harvest, but this year even the veggies grown from seed are promising ‘feast’ rather than ‘famine’.
What did I plant, on a chilly, blowy day back in mid-June? Left to right, low growing ‘Contender’ and pole-climbing ‘Helda’ beans, rocket (arugula to North American readers)), long Italian sweet peppers, Galicia’s much-loved pimientos de Padron, ‘Rosa’ and ‘Corazon de Buey’ tomatoes, leeks, onions, ‘Nantes’ carrots, and ‘Petit Provence’ peas. No beets, broccoli or cauliflower this year: the weather was simply prohibitive. At this altitude, one grows what will do well with the growing season available, and no fuss. To my surprise, the tomato plants are waist-high, the peas are almost ready to harvest. Good thing I cleared the freezer.
The other item ‘burgeoning’ at the moment (besides a large red currant bush) is the lavender on either side of the path leading into the labyrinth. From the back door it appears as a long, deep purple strip, over which butterflies hover in their dozens. From a seat on the bench two metres away, I can hear the low rumbling sound of bees at work. If I walk over to the lavender I can see that there are hundreds of them. If I then run my hands through the stalks, a delightful scent rises, but the bees remain calm, taking no notice of me, as if aware that I welcome their presence. In a few months’ time I’ll buy honey from the man who owns the hives these bees come from - and very good it is, too.