Summery. Hot in the sun and away from the Lake.

Garden work in the morning while it was still cool and not too sunny. Rooted out all the invading clover (trying to get every bit of root) and the mullein, cinquefoil, etc. Then tuned the lovely, friable soil over, to greater than the depth of a spade, except that it was hot work on account of roots. A forest surrounds this garden, and the forest wants this garden. So, every season, the forest sends its tendrils into the rich, moist, sunny place—where the roots proliferate and prosper. I always have to chop deep around the perimeter, this time finding many roots sneaking in (and almost across the entire circular space) some the diameter of a Conestoga cigar. Every garden presents unique challenges.

Now, we need rain!