We could probably write an entire digital riff on snapdragons without breaking much of a sweat–how they tend to dominate the garden when they appear, how some flowers gently waft into your consciousness and some, like this bunch, blast right to your frontal cortex, and how these blooms signify that a very elusive summer is here, at least for the moment–and it is not a moment to waste.
But why go on blathering when we have more graphic evidence fresh from our camera. So here’s a little pictorial tour of the farm on a rare sunny summer morning. (Enjoy it, we probably won’t have too many more to share this summer.)
The crew was up early this morning to get the onions out of the ground before the next round of storms blows in off the Pacific.
You can’t see the bees buzzing through our lavender beds but there are hundreds–maybe thousands–in there. Their hum and the lavender scent is almost a sensual overload.
We spotted these perfect little strawberries hiding in the bed Louisa has been carefully tending through the spring. First we shot a picture of them–then we ate them.
Rebecca and three apprenti took a break from their morning field chores to trim radicchio in the packing shed. On the farm, you can’t waste a minute when the sun shines.
Lately, whenever we get a sunny day Rebecca has been leading prospective brides through our flower gardens. By the time they get to the daisy patch everyone is giddy.
Most mornings we scan The Stranger’s blog, the Slog, to see what David Goldstein is thinking. Today, he was boasting about the peas in his garden. Well Goldy, you want to see peas…
We saved this snapshot of one of the cherry trees in the orchard for the last. We didn’t get many cherries last year because the rain and chill kept the bees inside. So we’re treasuring this year’s bounty.
Hard to beat a sunny summer morning on a small farm.