Midsummer Musings

Tying in tomatoes at 9:15pm on Midsummer's evening, the sky at times looks biblical; the last remnants of the solstice sun, poking through blue-black clouds, not yet ready to give itself to the night. Torrential downpours have earlier bounced off the pavements and dry soil, bringing welcome relief to a parched Mother Earth. I'm surprised just how quiet it is outside, apart from the odd car and the occasional thud of a football. 

It's easy to understand why our ancestors found this time of year so magical. Midsummer was once filled with pagan rituals: fire lighting, feasting and sun worship. (Now they worship different gods, those of Netflix and social media.) A wet summer often led to a failed harvest, inevitably leading to a lean winter or even starvation. So, worshipping the elements made perfect sense to our ancient farmers. They were more in tune with nature than we will ever be. 

Every midsummer is of course tinged with sadness. The daylight grows shorter thereafter, if only for a few minutes every day. 

It also means all our hard work in the garden is coming to fruition. The sweet peas we sowed are being picked daily, filling jam jars and the room with scent. Lettuce is picked and eaten daily, the crunchy leaves full of flavour, unlike the inferior supermarket offerings. Broad beans, tender and sweet, the earliest and most welcome of the legumes are swelling their pods almost before our eyes. 

Our ancestors would have harvested the entire crop at once, saving some of the seed to sow the following year; the rest pounded into a 'mush' to be used in a potage. The first bean feast of the year was called a 'beano'. 

And there's much more to come - with luck and a fair wind, we will be harvesting daily now up until the winter. There are always disappointments, failures, but often the successes far outweigh these. 
Besides, just feeling the warm of the sun on your back, the smell and feel of the rich soil and the contentment of tending the garden is reward enough. 


Copyright © Mark Beards 2023 mbeardsgardening.blogspot.com