You may say that we humans know the scientific basis for the seasons, and can intellectually reason the annual return of spring. Rationalization doesn’t stop the poet soul of the true gardener and farmer who glories in the miracle of the first green shoots poking out of the earth.
Mid-August the reality struck me that I hadn’t spent nearly enough time in my garden. With a heavy heart, I pulled the first planting of beans. They had stopped flowering. No more green beans from these plants. The spring gardening optimism has produced a bounty. I haven’t grown enough food to survive a year, as my very recent ancestors required, but enough to provide my summer vegetable needs.
There is time, in this climate, for one more round of lettuce. Summer is not over yet. And with creative season extending technology like cold frames and row covers, I could conceivably harvest tomatoes into October.
“To everything there is a season, A time for every purpose under heaven,” Scripture says (specifically, Ecclesiastes 3, NKJ). “A time to plant, And a time to pluck what is planted.” If you’re fond of The Mamas and the Papas, you may add your own “turn, turn, turn” here.
Although it is September already, I notice lots of folks running around in shorts and flip flops, despite the cooler, darker mornings. People continue to race up the pass to spend weekends in the mountains camping and fishing. Families swarmed Red Rocks Park Sunday. There is still time to revel in summer before the aspen leaves turn gold and the snow starts to fly.
What are your plans for these last glorious days of summer?