monday, monday

We woke to the sound of rain tapping on the copper roof.  At 4:00am it's too early to let the dog out, especially since the warning appeared in the paper about roaming coyotes.  But one wants to go to the garden to view the magic - a magic that only appears after 24 hours of gentle summer rain.  What was miniscule yesterday today reaches the fence.  What was shoulder height two days ago now towers over my head.  The rain is the magic-maker, the shape shifter.

Little plump globes that fattened overnight.  More importantly, these vines have finally scaled the pergola and can begin their nesting and settling in.  It was a heady climb and we held our breath through every punishing storm.

A sister wisteria begins her ascent on the other side...the promise being a shady canopy to sit beneath one day, a place to listen to the hum of the bees and nod away an afternoon.  I wanted a giant silver linden or a copper beech.  There were delicate negotiations.  We decided that we may not live long enough to see such exuberant shade, so the grapes must suffice. We will have, one hopes, many years together (from my mouth to God's ears).

I have my fair share of fence hangers this year.  

What can we say about this configuration?

Give 'em an inch - they'll take the fence!  I haven't figured out how to harvest this one yet.

Here's the giant pumpkin that you didn't see before - this starlet is not anywhere NEAR to being ready for it's close up.  If wishes come true, it will become a contender for the county fair weigh in! 
 I've talked about my great affection for the deadly castor bean plant.  Last week it was sensational, but today, after the rain, it's head is in the clouds!

It's an instant tree, for crying out loud.  The shade that it casts across the pond has already encouraged wildlife.  I have two frogs and one sighting of a turtle.  Or maybe I imagined the turtle.  The heart wants what it wants.  The imagination follows.  Sometimes it leads.  Never mind.

I'm quite happy with my little pond.  It will never aspire to the pages of House and Garden, but it makes me smile and there is something so bewitching and charming about the sound of its waters tripping along while one is weeding and poking about in the garden.  Knowing that I have the option of easing my tired feet into its depths is soothing.  Thank you, Scott.  Thank you for my mini pond.