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Column: How the garden and nature brighten my day

A column by Dianne Bersea

ItÏã½¶ÊÓÆµÖ±²¥™s six am in the morning, itÏã½¶ÊÓÆµÖ±²¥™s still cool. IÏã½¶ÊÓÆµÖ±²¥™m up and outside to water my householdÏã½¶ÊÓÆµÖ±²¥™s mix-mash of garden containers. Yesterday wasnÏã½¶ÊÓÆµÖ±²¥™t a ideal day, and IÏã½¶ÊÓÆµÖ±²¥™m feeling downÏã½¶ÊÓÆµÖ±²¥¦. As soon as the garden becomes my focus, I feel relaxed and pleased with the world.

My first customers, the energetic, colourful petuniaÏã½¶ÊÓÆµÖ±²¥™s release a small orb spider and it drops away on a thread. I look to see where itÏã½¶ÊÓÆµÖ±²¥™s landed so it wonÏã½¶ÊÓÆµÖ±²¥™t fall victim to my steps.

I check some tomatoes that have volunteered among a fine bin of red beets. WeÏã½¶ÊÓÆµÖ±²¥™ve already had a jewel-like beet salad. Sadly one tomato plant is suffering from curled leaves. I make a mental note to come back with a soapy spray.

Just around the corner itÏã½¶ÊÓÆµÖ±²¥™s the cucumbers. TheyÏã½¶ÊÓÆµÖ±²¥™re finally, enthusiastically pushing upward on a bamboo lattice I installed last year. I push aside some large green leaves to see whatÏã½¶ÊÓÆµÖ±²¥™s happening. Tiny cucumbers are evolving from the promising yellow flowers! Ah, thereÏã½¶ÊÓÆµÖ±²¥™s one thatÏã½¶ÊÓÆµÖ±²¥™s almost ready for a cucumber sandwich.

Nearby, two large round potato bins have already been harvested. Declared a better harvest than last year, some of this crop has become a delicious crisp potato salad, with more for another day.

After almost two weeks of high temperatures, well into the top 30Ïã½¶ÊÓÆµÖ±²¥™s, I see dark clouds on the south horizon. The air is thick with moisture and rain. I stop to savour the rare smell.

In a moment of inattention, the sprayer drenches my feetÏã½¶ÊÓÆµÖ±²¥¦refreshing as the coming rain.

Somewhere thereÏã½¶ÊÓÆµÖ±²¥™s a pot of zinnias I planted from last years seeds. IÏã½¶ÊÓÆµÖ±²¥™d expected large extravagant cupped flowers in a rainbow of colours. Instead I see smaller heads in yellow and white. No matter, the bees still love them and so do I.

Speaking of bees, itÏã½¶ÊÓÆµÖ±²¥™s been slow for insect pollinators. The large bumbles IÏã½¶ÊÓÆµÖ±²¥™ve grown fond of have only appeared a few days ago. But IÏã½¶ÊÓÆµÖ±²¥™ve noticed lots of smaller bees, hover flies and cabbage white butterflyÏã½¶ÊÓÆµÖ±²¥™s tumbling about in the cat mint and Russian sage.

 A couple of sparrows fly toward me then swerve off to land on a tall garden stake just a few feet away. TheyÏã½¶ÊÓÆµÖ±²¥™re on the support for a large greenish windmill. ItÏã½¶ÊÓÆµÖ±²¥™s there to halt bird strikes on the reflective windows behind. IÏã½¶ÊÓÆµÖ±²¥™m pleased the windmill is working!

Next up, a large pot of sunflowers who are facing toward the cloud shrouded sun. Then thereÏã½¶ÊÓÆµÖ±²¥™s one of my favourite large bins with a collection of volunteers IÏã½¶ÊÓÆµÖ±²¥™ve rescued from other flower pots and the compost bin.

I never know what a few brave leaves will turn into. This year thereÏã½¶ÊÓÆµÖ±²¥™s an extraordinary tomato plant with unusually large flowers, a yellow violet who doesnÏã½¶ÊÓÆµÖ±²¥™t like being overtop, some snapdragons and two mystery melons flowing out and over the edges of the bin into the grass below.

The sky has darkened. I hear distant rumbles. Everything is watered and will surely welcome additional sprinkles. I feel ready to meet the day.

To contact Dianne please go to writer@diannebersea.com