It’s not much, but it’s ours.
In its early stages the black earth was played in by two children while the smell of honeysuckle lingered in the air. I’m convinced a bit of child-like magic was added to the garden with every bit of outdoor play.
From this suburban ground, sprouted produce.
Okra after okra. Cucumbers so delicious and watery, I couldn’t wait for more. Tomatoes so tantalizing that the birds got them before we could. Green bell peppers that tried so hard to develop but were quickly overgrown by their neighboring brethren.
Basil so high it could touch the hot blue sky. Mint and thyme that covered the dirt as if it was moss. Oregano hidden but not forgotten. Parsley that produced just enough leafy greens to garnish meals and stems to flavor stocks.
Every morning, every afternoon, every evening—we tended to our little patch of dirt with curiosity and excitement. As a family we watched our garden grow and we each became partial to a piece of it.
Basil for him. Mint for her.
Okra for me. Tomatoes for him.
We became acquainted with the bees. They busily hummed and worked alongside us as a bundle of thyme was collected or a cucumber was plucked.
Lady bugs, crawling to and fro—working busily on who knows what.
Little hands reached for the basil to grab a small snack to munch on it as we worked. A mint leaf to lick as we made our way back indoors.
It was our pleasant little garden this year. Built with love. Managed with care. Protected by a white Westie.
Once the cold comes it will fade. We will glean from it what we can, but this thriving green patch will go away.
Summer will continue though, in small ways—splash of basil oil, dash of herb salt, pinch of dried thyme, frozen basil and of course, recipes. Recipes created and inspired by a pleasant little garden.
A few recipes inspired by A Pleasant Little Garden: