June Garden Notes: What is Wandering, Never Finished

June is when the garden begins to feel more certain, but is still wandering.

Not finished.

Just committed to growing.

Spring's excitement begins giving way to something steadier. The bringing-plants-in-and-out season has passed here in North Carolina, and the garden begins settling into itself. Weeds are settling in, like Pennywort, if you aren’t watching out for it. A little goes a long way to cause trouble.

But Summer arrives with more confidence now, and things begin revealing what they intend to become.

The days are warmer.

The sun lingers.

Humidity settles in more days than not.

You can imagine thunderstorms.

And growth happens overnight.

Tomatoes and peppers suddenly shoot upward and you realize you have clusters of new fruit.

Herbs continue offering more than wishes and promises.

Sage is coming into its own.

Mint is becoming almost impossibly generous.

Cilantro has become a happy surprise, thriving in ways I never expected, finding its way into salads, broths, and dips.

Summer is still offering herbs more than produce here, but little things are beginning to arrive.

Radishes.

Lettuce.

The first quiet signs that the garden is moving from possibility into abundance.

There are changes too.

The hydrangeas are opening wide now, though some are already beginning to wilt in the heat.

The first flush of roses fades more quickly than I ever want them to. Petals for sashes? for potpourri?

Every bloom is temporary. Every bloom is a visitor.

Passionflower vines are appearing in surprising places, deciding for themselves where they wish to live — under my outdoor shower or emerging from the Dusty Miller. What are you doing there?

Transplanting them can be difficult, so in some places I simply place a topiary form over them and let them be.

Sometimes the garden knows better.

Wisteria is wandering too.

I have started allowing some vines to act more like ground covers, softening spaces instead of controlling them.

Bee balm, accidentally pulled, was happily transplanted somewhere else where it can stretch and grow without taking over.

There is work to do.

Checking leaves.

Trimming rose bushes.

Pulling out the extra mint. How did you get over here?

Watching for thirsty pots by 2 pm.

Turning plants.

Pulling a weed here and there. And there. and there and there and, oh fine. You win today.

Trying to remember that gardens are less about control and more about participation.

A Few Things to Add in June

For the Vegetable Garden
June can still welcome peppers, herbs, beans, okra, cucumbers, basil, melons, and summer squash. Warm soil and longer days begin encouraging stronger growth.

For the Porch
Pentas, herbs, salvia, lantana, coleus, and larger containers begin proving their worth as heat settles in.

For the Pollinator Garden
Bee balm, coneflower, milkweed, mountain mint, black-eyed Susan, salvias, and butterfly weed begin drawing visitors.

Dragonflies hover.

Bees arrive.

Butterflies wander through.

Tree frogs become evening companions.

The garden does not bloom all at once.

And it does not stay the same either.

Things wilt.

Things wander.

Things reseed themselves.

Things surprise you.

And then one morning, you look around and realize—

the visitors have arrived.

🌿🐝✨

And don’t be afraid to grab seeds and plant them right now. I’m trying my sunflowers in a spot again after they were trimmed by something or sat on too long by my cat. Salvo, the cat that sat too long and ate the universe. Oh, Salvo.