Things my garden has taught me

On tending and on tenderness

Well here we find ourselves, at the halfway point of the year; less than a handful of weeks away from Summer solstice in these parts. It’s come along so quickly for me, although even writing that sentence feels so disingenuous; as though time really is a thing that follows any real or true line when so many of us know otherwise. When time is actually a darting, dancing ghost of a thing; a faery child in the woods.

What does June hold in store?

What did May hold?