Every year I post one photo from the flower fields on Facebook. I'm not a super dedicated poster on social media, but since I love reading what friends are up to these days, I feel I ought to contribute and since flowers are such a big part of my summer work (and spring work and winter escapism), I pick one photo and send it flying. (It's actually funny how few of my Ocean readers are on Facebook and how few Facebook friends are Ocean readers!)
Knowing that there is to be that one and one only picture to be shared in this way sets the pressure cooker cooking within me! Because the question is -- which one?? Last year I put up a photo of the Big Bed in mid July and then a week later I kicked myself because everything looked so much better then!
Of course, it's not as if 1. anyone cares, 2. anyone actually looks carefully at the details I find to be so important and finally, most people read their Facebook stuff on their smart phones. Do you know how tiny a flower field picture will be on someone's mini-iPhone?? Minuscule dots rather than lush lilies!
Still, as in all these things, I fuss about this and worry that it isn't as good as it could be. I'm not a super perfectionist, but I have seeds of that in me: I always think I could do better.
Since I know I have entered that week of Great Beauty, when the flowers are about as awesome as can be, I set out this morning with my camera and bucket (425 lilies clipped) and I keep an eye out for that best possible image. Should it be one of the ones from today's post? And by the way, there's some pressure, too, to get this done quickly. I have been uneasy about the growing number of grasshoppers in the garden. Small herds aren't too bad, but when the weather turns hot and dry, which of course describes our summer, they multiply and they can decimate a flower field. [Ed suggests we should catch them, sauté them in olive oil with a toss of garlic and eat them. I told him -- give me a jar and I'll catch them. You fry them and most importantly, you eat them.]
So, let's walk and snip together, pausing occasionally by those blooms that make my heart flutter!
(Secret path leading to the back door...)
(The lily field by the porch: nymphs and shepherds are blooming! -- that's a reference to past years of such blooms and the pastoral song it calls forth in my head. Tall, orange and ruby, to the right.)
(More of nymphs and shepherds, this time photographed in the bright afternoon light...)
(Looking now toward the Big Bed, with a cat. Which one? Friendly One or Friendly Two...)
(Bold Beatrice venturing through the Big Bed...)
(The Big Bed...)
(From another angle...)
(And another...)
(I should not have favorites... And yet... The way that one color blends into the next here is just exquisite!) )
(And another...)
(No, annuals, I am not forgetting you. Yes, you carry the color for us through spring, summer and fall.)
So -- which photo do you think I should have picked to give the best single image of the farmette flower fields?
Okay, yes, there is July life outside flower gazing. There's breakfast, for example. With sweet peas from the garden.
And in the afternoon, I make use of Aggie's blueberries (she is an asparagus and blueberry farmer -- a super combination, don't you think?) and bake our favorite these days -- a blueberry and thyme loaf.
And then Ed and I head out to our small local market. It's a Thursday affair and Ed always goes and I hardly ever go because on most Thursdays, Snowdrop is with me. But she is not here today and so I keep the big guy company. As usual, he does his egg-cheese exchange as Farmer John's daughter looks on with that typical young adolescent skepticism...)
... and his black walnut bread purchase and, too, I convince him that we really really could use a bouquet of local flowers.
None of this is excessive even though we did come by motorbike. I can fill a sack and swing it at the side as we ride. However, I still need to pick up our CSA veggies for the week. Is it going to be one of those rides, where flowers are held protectively with a stiffened arm, and blueberries are kept on the lap precariously, and the veggies are somehow fit snuggly in the rear basket along with the cheese and breads?
It is.
As we ride back home on this very warm and beautiful summer afternoon, I let myself drift back to our various market encounters -- with Farmer John, with farmer Aggie, with farmer Natalie. And the black walnut guy and the flower woman whom I'd never met before. These encounters with familiar people and with new people -- these are, for the most part, still missing in our post-Covid world. We see friends, we see family, but we dont have many casual encounters with others these days. Weird how you can be hungry for that form of human contact.
The refrigerator is full. The flowers are blooming outside, and inside too. How good is that!
With love...
