Anticipation

The garden teaches me patience. Every year, I looked forward to the unfolding season of growth that it provides. We are in the midst of the cycle now with some flowers already faded, some in bloom now and more to come. I sit on my deck and look, cataloging what is still left to anticipate. I crave those blooms, vegetables and fruit; I want to see them, eat them, savor them. Years of experience has taught me though that I cannot crave them too much. I must give them their time and learn to enjoy the delicious anticipation for itself.

I have to wait until July each year to see the butterfly bush bloom.

The mandavilla I saved from the clearance rack has its first open blossom today.

As does this tiger lily. This one took a long time to open--I was expecting it last week.

We are eating the cherry tomatoes, but these Carmellos are making us wait.

As are these stunning San Marzanos. These will be sauce later on. 

The Joe-pye weed is starting to get its color,

but we're going to have to wait a while longer for the moonflower vine. I'm really anxious for these--I haven't grown them in at least 10 years.

We won't be eating the pears until late August or early September.

I've already harvested the garlic and it is drying in flats on the driveway. I am happy knowing that we have more to savor--the cardinal lobelia, onions, carrots, a second wave of roses, morning glories, fall-blooming anemone, tomatillos and more.

When the toad lily blooms (the strappy leaves not the variegated ones), however, I start to panic just a little. This is the last flower to bloom in my garden. It will be late September before it shows off its orchid-like blooms. The anticipation then will only be for colder temperatures and, well, snow shoveling. It's much harder to enjoy that anticipation. Until then, the garden will carry me. Still so much to look forward to.