Summer arrives, and with it
the colours you seem
to have forgotten.
Not unexpected yet
still a surprise.
Early morning sunrise
worth remembering;
not always like this, but
there will be more.
© 2026 j.g. lewis
a daily breath
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Mondays are just young Fridays
A few weeks ago, I pulled much of the early growth from my rhubarb plant, leaving only the newest stalks. Apparently, this is what you are supposed to do.
I planted my first rhubarb crown last spring, after the danger of frost, and cut away the first stalks about a month later for a delicious home-grown, homemade pie.
This year I discovered that was wrong.
I have since learned that you are to pull out all the growth of the first year and do nothing with it (except toss it in the compost bin). This is to encourage future growth.
Then, in the second year, you are to pull away about a third of the stalks that first appear. I did that this year. Already new tiny leafy stalks are reaching up and out.
I’m anticipating another pie.
From the second year on, you are free to harvest the rhubarb as it sprouts, and each year there will be more. I’m already savouring the possibilities and potential.
My rhubarb plant has a prime spot at the rear of the yard. It’s an inconvenient corner of the garden without much space for anything else (I did find room for the mini pumpkin plant a week ago). You can tell by its growth that the rhubarb likes its place with full sunlight for most of the afternoon.
The rhubarb is right next to the tomato cage I built a few weeks back. I constructed the cage not to keep the tomatoes in, but to keep the squirrels, chipmunks, and rabbits out. I seem to have attracted a menagerie of tiny beasts who visit my yard winter and summer. Last year, at least one of the culprits managed to nibble on the bottom of most every tomato in the garden, rendering much of the crop useless.
I’m hoping my cage will outsmart the pests this year.
The rest of the backyard garden space, mostly in raised planters I constructed last year, is flowers and herbs. The front flower bed now full of hydrangeas, day lilies, bee balm and assorted perennials. I also had success this spring with tulips in this one bright corner. That spot will be filled this week with something or another.
On this first week of summer, I’m looking forward to the tones and tastes of the season.
© 2026 j.g. lewis
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blessed
Fortunate am I to have a daughter I get to know a little more each year.
While my mind will always hold images and memories of her past, it is the present version of my child that keeps me growing along with her. She is wise beyond her years, and my wisdom comes from being there for her.
I am blessed with this never-ending experience of love.
j.g.l.
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always anticipation
Growth, in any living form,
happens gradually. At first
hardly perceptible, then you
notice little changes.
It is natural
to have expectations.
There is always anticipation
over what will come next.
© 2026 j.g. lewis
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easily understood
Solitude surpasses community. Your voice becomes stronger, and more easily understood, by only those who need to know. Challenge is found in criticism, purpose through indecision, with opinions apparent throughout an ever-respectful dialogue. You may own all you know and learn from the many lessons more thoughtfully through undiscovered, and mostly silent, inner wisdom.
