More of marvelous Melva's end of summer garden, part 2 of 2

post #511

        Here in northeastern Kentucky, we're having a wet, wet weekend, and, at last, the look of autumn. I'm honored and delighted to have the rest of my friend's garden photos (and her descriptions) to share with you! (I hope you have already seen last week's post..)

 Pokeweed, which I let grow because I love pokeweed's tender growth:

red cardinal vine, an annual which is worth seeding each year:

 

 red zinnia, another annual which is worth seeding every year:

butterfly weed with love-lies-bleeding in the background, upper right of the photo....every annual is worth seeding every year:

white marigolds, actually rather pale yellow, my first:

purple okra, for color and for savoring flavor:

green tomatoes, which have lost most of their leaves and so won't last much longer:

cosmos pink:

last of the leeks, a favorite for cooking:

potted sage, (bottom -- potted sage, /pineapple sage --mid-pot  / purple sage next to the pot, on the right); handy for tea!

LAST FIG RIPENING ON THE TREE -- which will have to be wrapped and kept over the winter in the garage once the leaves all drop.

             (note from me, Ann: How many of us would wish to spend the winter warmly wrapped and safely stashed in the garage?!?!?!   At times, this is a tempting thought....)

 

            Again, so many thanks, Melva, and congrats for your lifetime of learning from your love of working in gardens.  I do hope I didn't mislabel anything that's crucial!  

            Dear viewers, enjoy today's "seedy" post....

         

marvelous Melva's garden medley, in honor of summer's end, part 1 of 2

post #510                       

        My poet friend Melva sent me a single photo from her garden this week, and I then asked her if she could send some closer-ups...Actually I kind of begged her. I've been to her backyard, so I know her love of making a garden.

    She said that in checking around for these photos, she found more than she thought she would. Another gift from a garden. She grew up on a Kentucky farm, but mainly she gives meaning to the word "grounded". As she says, "the garden is for beauty and nourishment." And, with her, it's for sharing as well, and, in my view, making magic.

 Here's the single photo she sent me at first, of her end of summer garden in her back yard:

Then next is the first half of the 30+ photos, with the brief descriptions Melva provides!

White seashell cosmos, for the novelty:

pink to red yarrow, just for the beauty:

red and yellow Swiss chard, which continues to grow into late fall:

oregano, near the back door, for handy use:

 

last of the onions, with the last turnip behind:

 

green oxheart tomatoes, which may have to be brought in to redden:

lemon balm, for tea:

English thyme, also near the back door. This is one of four varieties I grow:

first, carrot leaves,

 

and then a carrot top:

 

picking the last big pepper  (only small ones remain):   

red zinnias, red/purple Swiss chard, and [yummy] carrots to the left:

purple basil planted between the tomato vines to flavor the tomatoes -- and also for eating:

Japanese eggplant, which grows potted on the back porch because it is the only way I can grow eggplant, keeping it as safe as possible from the attacking insects:

orange marigolds, to avoid garden pests:

Melva, thanks so very much. I believe the marigolds are considered essential workers, like we all rely on, especially during these difficult days. Please let me know if I misspoke about any of the actors in these sweet moments you caught this week. Bravo! I plan to show the rest next week, including your fig and fig tree.

Note: Yesterday I received the absentee ballot I requested in the mail. Now I will vote and then return it soon, signed in two places.  GO TEAM!

walking where a poet works

post #352
       Recently I had lunch and a walk with friends W. and T. who live on the Kentucky River. Their part of Kentucky is not in Appalachia, but, in our state, artists, writers and social action people are very connected and supportive of one another. It's one of the amazing riches that our state seems to create. I met W. with other writers and photographers he had gathered up to begin some awareness of the terrible harm done by mountaintop removal mining. Articles, poems, books, and artworks grew out of this shared effort over a long period of time. Yes, MTR mining is better known and understood by now, but the clean water and community health issues continue to be as urgent as ever. Many of us continue with this work and more.
      After our lunch and the visit part, W. went back to work, and I took a walk. It's wonderfully flat there along the river. Here are a few photos that I made just because I was happy, grateful and energized to be there on such a beautiful afternoon. Thank you, friends, as always, for your kindness and generosity and caring about so many things.

what's hot on a winter stove in August....

This looked like a grand palace entrance to me....

 

I love a gate and always have.

       On the way back to my car, I suddenly felt I wanted to try to capture where I was as if in a dream to take with me to revisit. So, first, here's what my eyes saw, there on the poet's path, and then I made a photo how it "really" looked as I got ready to return to a more public place. I have no idea if it works for anyone else. But, believe me, I loved giving it a try.

        There is so much to say. I hope my photos speak as well as my words might. 
        I'll save my thoughts about what goes on in the world until next week. Thank you for visiting my post this week.