Summer officially arrived last week, and I’ve now had my first official harvest of summer, small though it may be. Yesterday the blueberries started to peak. Last year I got about three blueberries (first year of the plants). Yesterday I harvested 10, and several more today. I expect I may get at least 30 blueberries this year. I find this trend (can it be a trend with only two data points?) very encouraging and plan to add one or two more blueberry plants to the patch. Perhaps in a few years I’ll get a few pints of blueberries.
But I have to say this: Even bringing in just 10 blueberries, grown in my own yard, is a fine feeling.
I’ve also harvested my first round of yarrow, and maybe a dozen calendula flowers. The calendula are just starting to come in strong, and soon I’ll need a basket rather than my hand to hold the blossoms. (I always feel a little like Morticia Addams when I snip off the brightly blooming flower.)
The hops are finally starting to hop. They’ve been growing and spreading marvelously, and finally today I saw the first incipient hop flower. Yes! The hops are coming! I have grown quite enamoured of hops—primarily as a sleep aid. (Wake up at 2:30 in the morning and can’t get back to sleep? Try a wee bit of hops tincture.) Hops are also good for aiding digestion and queasy stomachs, and they can produce a calming effect in a highly anxious state. A lovely plant that I have found unbelievably easy to grow.
The currants are also in harvest mode. Happily, the birds have left me enough this year to enjoy (last year, they completely beat me to it). Currants fresh off the bush are exceptionally good with rye bread, cheese, and olives.
Slightly off the harvesting theme: My prickly pear cactus flowered last week! It has never flowered before (I’ve had it about five years)—they were beautiful yellow flowers. I saw two of them, but in the end I saw there had been five. This is a lesson to me: Pay attention when the cactus blossoms; it all happens within just a very few days. This is an exceptional and beautiful thing. You can’t put it off to the weekend.
But that’s the thing about this time of year. Everything is happening. An embarrassment of lushness, so much fecundity, it is impossible to appreciate it all. Every moment. Every moment something miraculous is happening.
Tonight I was watching the bees on the hydrangeas. First I saw the large bumblebees, then smaller bees, then other pollinators that looked more like flies. For most of my life I’ve been unreasonably freaky-afraid of bees. Tonight as I was watching the bees on the hydrangea, they clearly had no interest in me. They were all about the flower. And the patterns were so interesting, and I kept leaning in closer and closer, quite proud of myself for acknowledging how unconcerned these bees were about me. When one of the larger bees left the bush to fly around my head I took little notice, knowing it would shortly return to the flowers.
Except I was wrong. It did not return to the flowers. I stepped back a couple of feet, knowing it would return to the flowers then. Wrong again. I kept stepping back, it kept following me. Circling me. Possibly darting at me. My old fear returned, and I ran to the house.
But I’ll go back tomorrow. There were so many different bees, I want to pay more attention. I like to know what’s in my backyard.