I try to apply colors like words that shape poems, like notes that shape music. ~Joan Miró
The garden was lush and green in July and overflowing with colorful plants. 
Cool foggy mornings are a special joy, wrapping the garden in quiet. They create rich moments of saturated color that enspell me and often make me late for appointments, as I cannot bear to leave such a gift of beauty.
Color fills my sight at every step through the garden and I revel in it. Miró was right about color and music and poetry. Tone poems are the stuff of musical artistry and if I get it right, the whole garden becomes a tone poem, an artistic romance realized in the color and texture and juxtaposition of plants. And the fireflies add an extra magical note. 
Here’s a cinematic look at the garden in July, beginning with flowers and ending with fireflies.
Of course, poems and paintings and written music don’t really change over time, but the garden certainly does. It is more like a dance than a painting, perhaps starting awkwardly like a preadolescent but then coming into its own moment of time. I am constantly amazed how it can change overnight – new color, shifting light, some plants finishing their solos while others step forward.
The sounds of summer have changed as well. The birds are done raising their broods and their songs have given way to the constant hum of cicadas during the August days and the pulsing rhythms of katydids at night. The katydid songs in my midnight woods are captured in the audio clip below.
I’ve been spending mornings on my upper deck lately. As the larger gardens gather their strength after a late summer haircut, I find joy in the color that is more constant in this little retreat tucked among the treetops. The winged ones find their way to this garden in the sky and the cherry tomatoes that thrive there are a delicious surprise at happy hour.
In spite of heat, drought, wild thunderstorms, and fog, this summer’s garden has been a joyful place to be. How is summer treating you?
All text, photos, and videos ©2025 Lynn Purse, All Rights Reserved except where noted
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A beautiful garden so thanks for sharing. My own garden in Los Angeles isn’t anything to write home about. Miro was right of course.
Thank you Bumba! But I think every garden is worth writing home about 🙂
You’re right
I love the soundtrack of birds and insects in your garden, Lynn. Non-human noise is what I relish about living in the country. Your daylily collection is marvelous!
I, too, have a deck above the garden. Weather permitting, it is the spot in summer for 3 meals/day, and lots of resting!
Decks by the garden are the best, aren’t they Eliza? Such a great spot to view the garden and enjoy it. The soundtrack of summer is something I really love – that non-human noise! I know it is November when all of the sudden it is so quiet.
Dear Lynn,
Your July garden tour is incredible. So many special moments. Eggplant ecstasy? I think that’s what it was! The pale pink roses .. my oh my. And finishing with the fireflies, perfect.
Love seeing Pixie wander in and around as you film. It’s perfectly paced and every frame is an image in and of itself. Perfect soundtrack.
I feel special that I’ve been in your garden many times, and I’m privileged to watch these videos. Thank you!
Here the loons are calling, making a beautiful racket. It’s a pale grey day and I’m working at my physical limit as I dig out a twenty foot stone step that my dad built in 1964. I’m restoring it and feeling his spirit as I dig, lug stones and dirt, and prepare to replace what needs to be fixed.
The loons are calling: “Get back to work!” Their calls reverberate across the still lake and misty sky.
Gioia sends her love, and me, too. Best to Bill!
Doug
Doug
Doug, thank you for such praise for the garden! Not only have you been here many times, but you’ve even helped me get it ready for some tours. Pixie is such a wonderful photobomb expert, she’s so at home in the garden and loves being there.
Ah, the loons – that is a special sound! Every place has its local soundtrack and it’s the one we miss when we go away. Here it is currently the cicadas by day and katydids by night with the occasional 2 AM call of a screech owl in the woods. I love this time of year, for the sounds as much as the sights. Love to you and Gioia!
What a lush and beautiful retreat you’ve created!
“Of course, poems and paintings and written music don’t really change over time….” And then there’s The Picture of Dorian Grey, by Oscar Wilde, in which a portrait does change over time. That’s fantasy, but it has me wondering now whether any writers or visual artists or composers have created works that they commit to changing at regular intervals, so that over time the works morph into pieces more and more different from the way they started out.
Steve, I meant to change the word “really” to “often” before I hit “publish” but you make a great point. There are some visual works that may change over time, even if it is the dissolution of materials. Now of course, I will have to research this!
My summer is better simply as a function of having had the opportunity to view the above images and the two wonderful videos of your beautiful garden. Thanks for sharing them with us!
Kerry, I’m blushing. Thank you for your kind words, my summer is simply better as a function of you writing them. 🙂