Last spring, I got an e-mail from a friend requesting I plant a flower clock.  You can read about it here.  I tossed the intriguing idea around in my mind.  I had the space for it in my backyard.  Then I read this sentence, taken slightly out of the context of the article for this blog post:

“No gardener wants that weed.  It has roots that go down to hell.”

This week, I’ve been weeding out my hill garden.  It’s approximately 70 feet of sloping land that runs down to the street.  It’s filled with Primrose, Hosta, Lady’s Mantle, Columbine, and…weeds.  This house’s former owner, Mrs. Perron, planted the beautiful space, but in the last year she lived here, she was not able to keep up with the garden and weeds started taking over.

When I moved in, it was almost June of 2014 and I made a cursory sweep of the garden to keep up appearances.  I did the same thing in 2015, but it bothered me that slowly, the weeds were winning out in that formerly lovely space.

No more.

This week, I’ve taken the “Johnny Cash Approach” to cleaning it up, working one or two foot segments each day.  Up at dawn, groggily sipping my coffee, I’ve been in the garden by sunrise pulling one weed at a time.

It’s the season of exponential growth.

The clock of the flowers is a fanciful idea, but I’ve got to be practical this summer and get that hill garden back into shape.  Time flies by as I type this.

Here’s yesterday’s Columbine, loosened from the long grass and weeds.

It’s the season of hammer and tongs.