Last weekend I spent hours dragging the hoses around the garden, slowly providing what Mother Nature had not. The plants were on the ropes from too many days in the upper 90's with unrelenting sun. Fast forward a week and the rain gauge has 4" from the last few days, with more falling as I type and even more predicted today and tomorrow.
As gardeners we learn to adapt to the feast or famine cycle. I'm so grateful to not be lugging hoses this weekend.
The path past the garage is reaching its late summer overgrown best. Each wet plant that escapes its stake and teeters into the pathway soaks my pants legs as I walk through, but I don't care.
The bed just behind the house has good things going on: perennial sunflowers, grasses, eupatorium, solidago, and monarda, but you wouldn't know it, as I never had the heart to pull the self-sown sunflowers at the front of the bed. I hope the goldfinches appreciate them.
I'm sure we'll be back to hot, dry summer soon.