Sometimes when I look at photos of my garden I think, “Hey, that looks pretty good.” This isn’t one of those times.
I don’t know why, but it seems that for all the work I’ve been putting in, the flowers just aren’t cooperating. Things don’t look as full as I want. The grass isn’t green and lush. I’m dissatisfied. It’s just not…enough!
Perhaps it’s because all of these photos were taken around June 1. This is the second month of this year’s marking time in the garden with a monthly overview shot of the potager. May’s photos are here. Maybe things will get better. But the point of documenting is to show warts and all. So here goes…

- Potager on June 3
The naked spot in the potager is where the ‘Speckled Trout’ lettuce was just pulled up. I found that it bolted more quickly than the other lettuces. The rest of the lettuce is still doing well—’Red Sails’ and the heatwave blend from Cook’s Garden.
Next to the mimosa tree limb trellis I’m giving some yellow pear tomatoes a shot, despite the past fusarium wilt problems in the potager. They are supposed to be resistant and I haven’t grown them in this spot before. I’m fully prepared to yank them out if they look sick.
The herbs are healthy, although the cilantro insists on bolting after about five minutes of heat. I still need bedding plants for the borders but haven’t been able to bring myself to choose from the measly offerings of annuals at the garden center. *snore*

Herb bed June 3
We have been enjoying the new, cleaner look of the tree line from the back patio. In fact, the tree guys have been out doing some more edge clearing so that we can now see the trees for the forest. I’ll have before and after photos at some point.

View from the back patio on June 3
There are a couple of cute little details. The ornamental oregano is a new plant for me this year. This one is Origanum rotundifolium ‘Kent Beauty’.

- Ornamental oregano – Origanum rotundifolium ‘Kent Beauty’
And, given how partial I am to chickens, I think the little chicken form covered in hens and chickens is adorable.

A whole new meaning to hens and chickens
I will work on being less critical, less persnickety and just enjoying the small bits of beauty.
P.S.
You can click on the photos to see a larger version.
Robin
A couple of years ago I managed to get organized enough to photograph my potager through several months. The changes from month to month documented in the photos were a bit like watching some low-tech, time-lapse photography. I enjoy looking at the changes as long as I try not to think about the fact that I’ve gotten older between each shot.
Here’s another low-tech time lapse. It seems that time is passing even faster than month to month. We’re skipping from season to season now.
This was part of our backyard in May. I know it’s May even without looking at the photo file information because the Lady Banks rose is in full bloom.

This monster rose only blooms in May, when it is covered with tiny yellow roses. The rest of the year it spends plotting world domination. The only reason it hasn’t grown over into your back yard is that I hack at it regularly with great big pruners.
The two trees are Zelkovas, a close relative of the American elm. Zelkovas are fast growers and have proven to be resistant to Dutch elm disease. They were the first things that I planted when we built the house eight years ago.
Although they were as spindly as any newly-planted tree when they first were plunked into the ground, they grew quickly. Now, they provide shade in the heat of the day, so that even in the summer months it is tolerable to sit outside in the Adirondack chairs.

The Zelkovas also provide beautiful color in the fall. They put on quite a brilliant show and are among the last of the trees to lose their leaves.
Oops, there go another few months.

Now here it is winter and this is the backyard in January. It was about four degrees outside the other morning when I went to let the chickens out and snapped this photo.
This weekend I’m huddled inside, looking at seed catalogs and thinking about another year in the garden. I’ll have another year of gardening experience under my belt, more entries into my garden journal and a few good stories to tell from 2008.
I’ll try not to fret about the birthday coming up that ends in the number nine or the fact that my son, Ben, won’t see the end of the summer garden because he’ll be off to college by then.
The passing of time is inevitable. But I will try to remember it can be beautiful and rewarding too.
Robin