I pick the few remaining pea pods and pull the yellowing vines. Is it my imagination, or was the yield much less than past years? I stop telling myself that the sorry looking green bean plants will produce anything and pull every sad looking plant from the bed, leaving it looking sad and barren.
Two ripe Roma tomatoes and a good number of green ones on the vine offer hope, but there’s no sign of our favourite Black Krims yet and, remembering how tiny and stunted they looked during the late, cool and wet spring, I wonder if we’ll see any at all this year.
Beets are plentiful. Swiss chard, always a favourite and faithful in its appearance, stands tall. I will pick some for a stir fry later. I cut back pattypan squash and zucchini plants, noting how much bigger the fruits (or are they vegetables?) are than they were yesterday.
I’m still learning about Saskatchewan gardening in contrast to British Columbia’s where, by now, we’d be feasting on tomatoes and cucumbers and I’d be close to, if not already at, the first pick of green beans.
Here in Moose Jaw, the average last frost date is May 20 (trust me, it was much later than that this year) and the first frost date is September 18. Our typical frost-free growing season is 121 days, meaning we’re about 62% through garden season. In B.C., where I’ve done most of my gardening, it’s about the halfway point; there’s still plenty of time to plant fall crops there.
Despite our shorter season, I love my Saskatchewan backyard garden sanctuary where our raised garden beds feed body and, through the pleasure of tending growing plants (though, I confess, my gardening mojo hasn’t been what it usually is), and soul.
But, I’m not getting too wrapped up in what has or hasn’t done well so far this year. This is our second summer back in Sasky. I’m still learning about prairie gardening. Frankly, the fervour I once approached gardening with has given way to a slower appreciation of watching things grow and enjoying the harvest, regardless of how large or small.
I view the now-barren spaces in my raised beds as an opportunity to shift my focus. Instead of trying to get as much as possible from each one, I think about how I can best amend the soil in preparation for next year.
As always, the garden gives me lessons. Are there areas where I feel personally unproductive? Most certainly. Knowing that, what changes can I make to nourish those parts of myself that need extra attention? The black dog of depression tries to catch me in its grip and instead of (or maybe in addition to) wrestling with it, I acknowledge its presence and lean in to self-care in the form of things I know that have helped me in the past as well as new things that offer hope.
The garden cycle, and my life cycle, continues to morph. Plant, grow, harvest, rest. And it is well.
Oh, yeah. I’m exercising my prerogative to change my mind and am back on Substack. Having spent time there recently doing some work for Story Circle Network, I decided there are benefits to being there. With little extra effort, I can post the same content there as is here. One of the stumbling blocks for me last time I dipped my toe in over there was the perceived need to write different things than what I shared here. There’s no need for that. So, if you’re inclined to find me over there, here’s the link. If not, you won’t miss anything because it’s the same content, just a different platform and front end. This space here, on WordPress, will remain my principle residence though. 🙂
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