It’s hot and the sun is blazing sharp. Top temperature forecast – 33 degrees. I’m enjoying breakfast on the deck in the back garden. The vegetables are already watered for the day. The tomatoes are growing fast and the little snow peas are just getting moving, twining up their supports. A couple haven’t come on. I think I’ll pull them out.
The zucchini got badly sunburnt last week on another hot, hot day and lost almost all its new leaves. But it’s recovering, and is jam-packed with little green cylinders. I must remember to pick them early. They’re so crunchy and delicious – and such a contrast to the rather soggy zucchinis for sale in the shops.
If only I had the time, energy and skill to grow all my own vegetables!
The coriander, planted small, mulched, fed and watered, is galloping to seed, like every other tray of coriander that I’ve ever put in. Why does it do this? What have I done wrong?
The rhubarb is reaching for the sky. My long-established plants all cook up green. I’ve just put in a couple of scarlet-stemmed ones.
Under the giant old olive tree beside the deck, Felix is toasting his tummy. This black and white cat has been with us for nine years, not as long as the olive which experts tell us is more than a century old.
The trunk is like a hoary old man, strong and solid with toes spreading into the earth. The new growth is surprisingly vigorous. The tree was a sea of tiny white flowers in spring. This year we’re going to have a bumper crop.
Felix wriggles his back into the sandy gravel at its base, nestles his feet against one of the roots, leans his white throat towards the sun, twitches his tail and lets out a deep sigh. If there’s a more alluring sight than a pet making the most of a sunny morning, I have yet to see it.
A honeyeater alights on the edge of the small birdbath. Takes a sip or two – and flips out of sight just as I reach for my camera.
I think I’ll take its advice!