The Bees Know How to Find the Thyme
200 mm 1/320 sec f/5.3 ISO 200
A persistent late-February thaw is upon my flower beds, and the mud is all-consuming. The can't-make-up-it's-mind weather of ice, rain, and snow (and wee hail three days ago) does wonders for a drought. But when the sun decides to return, and lays out a balmy seventy degrees, it all becomes mud. My flower beds have a thorough layer of mulch clinging to the mud and protecting the tiny green shoots that are popping up. My herb garden is another matter. I like it mulch free so that I can scatter brightly colored broken crockery pieces in a circle in the center, and have an outer circle made up of white pebbles. The final circle, this one of half-buried old bricks, makes a nice border. When winter starts to thaw, and the rain starts to pour, this means a yearly, careful rearranging of the bits of crockery, and leaf removal to free up the herbs that have made it through the cold months. It's work, certainly, but it's a small herb garden, nine feet in diameter, so keeping it tidy and productive is just a one person job. I've thought of expanding it, pretty sure I will some day, but for now I am content. My old boots get put into use along with a waterproof mat to kneel on, and out comes the softened-leather gardening gloves to protect my hands from the mud. And a hat! A big, wide brimmed, cute-as-can-be straw hat because there is virtually no shade to hide under. Bare tree branches don't do shade.
100 mm 1/50 sec f/5.6 ISO 1100
The sage, planted for courage and tomato sauces and a lemon and sage chicken recipe, looks as promising for renewed growth as it usually does. I have a section of sage that was planted seven years ago that is still going strong. The lavender is planted for peace and little sachets and for a fragrant, sweet addition in a vanilla, lemony pudding recipe that has caught my eye. The lavender is new to the little garden; this will be it's second season and it has been hardier than I thought it would be. Sure, I'll add a few more new plants when we get safely past the date of the last frost (I do that with most of the herbs except for the territorial sage), but the lavender has staked a respectable claim in the garden. There is the rosemary planted for wisdom and sauces and to mix with garlic rubs to go on pot roasts and steaks. I'm a little concerned this year about my rosemary; it is brittle and too brown. The rosemary has been in the garden for four years, and it has always made it through the winter. Maybe the prolonged polar vortex was, sadly, too much for it this time around. I will add new rosemary, but I hope some of the old plants rally and embrace spring. Patience and mild sunshine could be all they need.
98 mm 1/640 sec f/5.6 ISO 100
Thyme is planted for happiness and chicken recipes and spaghetti sauces and the occasional potato dish. I'm a little worried about my thyme for the same reason that my rosemary has taken a hit. The plants are a bit too dull, also brittle, and lacking that hint of green at the edge of the soil. I'll be just as patient with them as I need to be with the rosemary. The parsley planted for creativity and all that beautiful color and just-sharp-enough taste on so many summer meals, will all need to be planted anew. It is far too delicate for northern Virginia winters, and bowed out quietly by the middle of November. I will buy more oregano, planted for hope and chicken cacciatore and to hang out with the thyme in the spaghetti sauces. I used the last of its leaves well into December this year. Basil, planted for love, does its thing in cooking with the thyme and the oregano. I'm also not sure yet how much basil I may have to replace; half of the wintered-over plants look promising, the other half not so much. Finally, there is the peppermint and the spearmint planted for tea, tea, and more tea. Their flavors are comfort; their benefits are taking care of lingering stomach aches. And mint garnishes on fruit desserts are to die for. The mint is trying to come back to life.
200 mm 1/800 sec f/5.6 ISO 100
What about dill, you ask? Honestly, I don't know if my herb garden needs dill. I planted some last spring, but dill is finicky and dill is delicate. The sun requirements for the other herbs is consistent, and the dill wasn't having it. A few hot summer days, and it was withering its way out of existence. Besides its delicate nature, and the number of plants needed to get a decent amount to use, I found that I wasn't using it often enough in my cooking to justify growing it and tending it. I think I'll take a pass on it this season and see if I miss having it. Come early May, the final touch in my herb garden will be a border of marigolds. Marigolds will force the bugs to keep their distance and coax the butterflies to come closer. On a gorgeous summer afternoon nothing is nicer than sitting by a garden with a cup of tea (steeped with lots of fresh mint!), with the birds chirping, the bees buzzing about, and Great spangled fritillaries flitting from marigold to marigold.
