Harvesting Aesthetics

There are worse outcomes.  The sights and smells and occasional eats, and the landscape itself.  They satisfy in their way.   

A restful nap in the hammock, a lolling swing on the tire.

It is not without its benefits, this Eucalyptus Garden. 
Even if the squash have perished and the tomatoes continue to wither, the dill, for one, refuses to give in, it's succulent stalks and feathery leaves enduring through summer heat.

Despite having to toss another infested cucumber and watching something eat every leaf of one of the eggplants, the romaine lettuce seems to have found its stride, springing forth into daylight and starting to clump.

It is tempting to celebrate once again, as with the cucumber and squash, both of which quickly became so much compost material, but instead I'll note in passing that the carnival sweet pepper seems to have made a yellow one.  We'll see...

Something eats one eggplant.  The others like this one seem to benefit from the one sacrifice.  They haven't yet taken on the robust frame of a fruiting eggplant, but I have a growing confidence they just might.

Beans.  Henry said, "They attached me to the earth, and so I got strength like Antæus."  He grew too many.  Me, not enough.  Barely a bean bloom yet.  The heat disuades reproduction.  Or the humidity.

But the corn and sunflower grow apace.  Feeding tiny ants and filling empty space.

The beauty of it is as much its purpose as the knowledge that beauty creates.  The elemental security of this green earth, the magic of its incessant victories.  For what else, eyes?

Until next week.

Direct questions to The Gardener.