The best time

There is, of course, no bad time (other than pouring rain) to spend reading on the garden swing in the summer, but there is a best time. And that time is right now: early June, when, as I’ve previously written, the ceanothus is a buzzin’ and every blossom has a bee. There is something so very satisfying about stretching out on the swing, reading a novel (or a New Yorker) whilst listening to the buzzing, knowing that this tree I planted several years ago is helping the bees on Gabriola stay healthy. It makes me ridiculously happy.

This morning I spent a couple of hours with a borrowed pruning saw, hacking branches off a cedar and one of those ubiquitous (on Gabriola) trees with feathery white flowers (the name of which I do not know). Said branches (two of which were the size of a small trees) were blocking the sun on one side of the garden and thus needed to go. By the time I finished hacking the branches and hauling them away, I was drenched with sweat, wondering why it had seemed like a good idea to have a shower before I started all this exertion.

Another shower seemed excessive, so I came into the house, threw some cold water on my face, then returned to the garden with the second most recent New Yorker. The ceanothus was a buzzin’.

And just to make my cool down period perfect, Stella decided to join me on the swing. Best way to spend an early June afternoon.