The Secret Garden

My garden is secret only insofar as I've kept it private--not because it's some beautiful oasis of peace and tranquility, though it could be, but because I haven't done sh*t to it since I planted seeds and seedlings, over a month ago. I haven't weeded, or watered, or visited to whisper sweet nothings at my growing plants (predominantly dill weed). It was raining every day, the ground was too wet to work, I was busy moving and working and living, it was hot when it wasn't pouring: There were ways I legitimized my negligence.

I was also worried that I'd failed, to be honest; I'd nurtured these seedlings every day in my home, for months, and then I'd put them out in the hot, wet world and left them entirely alone. What kind of garden/farmer was I?

So I ignored the little plot, until this week.

 

And now I have a messy, beautiful goldmine.  

There are sweet peas in there, and sunflowers, rudbeckia, bachelors' buttons, gomphrena, stock, zinnias, summer poppies (!!!), cosmos, nigella, balloon flower, marigold, and probably 15 other things I've forgotten I planted.

Now that monsoon season has subsided, they're in need of water and weeding. Anyone want to spend an evening in the garden with me? I'll provide the rose lemonade-and-gin.