Facebook

The object of my affection

By on Mar 27, 2017 in Blog Posts, Harvest, Harvesting | 1 comment

Share On GoogleShare On FacebookShare On Twitter

Wookiee remains on the stoep. His tail sweeps left and right. Left and right. His front paws stamp out a two-step and he whines across to me - not a cars-length away. He wants to come to the garden but the dew laden lawn presents an impenetrable barrier.

Wookiee on a day with less dew.

I pull up the bird netting, ready to duck under and into the bed of basil. A thousand tiny white flowers confetti around my mud smudged boots.

"Been away too long." I mutter. The leaves that had juicily promised the taste of Italian summers are leathery. I pick a leaf and rub it between my fingers. The savoury, liquorice scent from a few weeks ago has become somehow darker. Rancid. I reach for my barrow: a fancy, plastic-moulded affair. It's badly designed so that it tips over unless perfectly balanced. I drag it closer behind me.

I reach for a basil plant and then another. Each woody stem supports a bush so with a few tugs I can strip out all the plants and shove them into the waiting receptacle.

Summer has ended and autumn is ready to begin.

Juicy basil from earlier in the season.

1 Comment

  1. Gus Silber

    27th March 2017

    Post a Reply

    A lovely turn-of-the-season piece, Penny! You make me want to garden.

Trackbacks/Pingbacks

  1. Winter Solstice and the long nights - My Garden Crush - […] I miss summer. I miss it with the same ache I imagine for a Jane Austen heroine dreaming of…

Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Join the mailing list

Join our mailing list to have the latest adventures from cancerland and the garden delivered to your inbox.

You will also receive your copy of the Writing Bit and Bobs - a short collection of memoir posts.

You have Successfully Subscribed!

Share This