Mammoth Melting Snow Peas

It's been great weather for peas-- moderate temps and lots of rain, but enough sun to keep fungus at bay. The snow peas are so vigorous I had to wrap them in clothesline to keep them attached to the trellis. But this year the trellis is tied to rebar pounded a foot into the ground, so it should hold under the load.

Enjoying June

I notice that in the last few posts I've been writing of the struggle to grow and harvest crops without sharing too much of my produce with the other residents of my yard. Sometimes the chores and challenges of organic gardening in the country (with so many hungry mammals, birds and insects around) keep me from sitting down for a moment and seeing and enjoying the beauty and bounty of June.  And yet back on December I thought so fondly of June ( see the post 'Remembering June').

So here's a little perspective in photo form:

The garden in March:

The garden in June:

The lush bounty of June is a joy that is worth pausing to appreciate. And this year I have planted and succeeded with more crops than ever before, including the  Jerusalem Artichokes on the left in this photo.
Lat year I planted them outside the fenced garden and the rabbits ate them repeatedly, even when I constructed makeshift fencing.
This year they are safe inside the main kitchen garden, and I'll finally see them bloom this fall, and produce lots of tubers for the winter.

Yes, the birds and chipmunks got some strawberries, but they don't touch the rhubarb, and I've even bartered some for food at my local diner.

Yogurt with rhubarb sauce and strawberries for breakfast:

This morning I harvested lettuce, snow peas, and english peas: 

The long warm days are perfect for walks in the woods that leave Sol contented and relaxed on the drive home:

And June flowers brighten the dining room table:

I resolve to enjoy June while it's here, in the midst of all of life's challenges,  not just when looking at pictures on dark winter nights. I want to enjoy both the present and the past.