There is this way in which gardening warps my perception of time. It is spring right now, isn’t it, here in the northern hemisphere?
Yes, it is spring, and here I am, feeling rushed, afraid I am late for summer.
I am looking at my garden and I see winter taking over the beds I had reserved for summer. I see spring squeezed in a little corner, a productive little corner, and I am going nuts wondering where and how I am going to be able to fit summer. Right now, first week of May.
Two things conspired to mix up the order of the seasons in my garden: winter crops are progressing much slower than usual, occupying the ground far longer than planned, and a spell of cold weather descended on us just when I was scheduled to plant the summer crops. As a result I still have no room for tomatillos, melons, summer and winter squash and beans, as well as my next sowing of lettuce, arugula and some herbs. On the bright side I got peppers, eggplants and tomatoes in the ground.
It breaks my heart when I have to remove a perfectly productive crop in order to plant a future harvest. I am going to be doing precisely that this weekend. I am harvesting more than enough favas and greens right now. Enough of winter, I am late for summer.