Despite the ongoing drought, the back garden seems to be thriving.
We've got a delightful variety of insects and birds visiting.
Our honeybees are enjoying the flowers.
(This rather weedy-looking plant is weld, a dye plant that dates back to the Viking times. It produces an eye-searing yellow dye.)
In addition to European honeybees, we have a variety of native bees (and bee mimics).
I've been digging aged compost into our vegetable beds. On bad days, it's a bit depressing to think about how much compost I've added to our garden soil. Today, I added five eight-gallon basins-full of compost to a relatively small area. And in four months, there will be no evidence that I added any organic material at all. Our dirt will feel as rock-hard as ever, seemingly devoid of any life.
On better days, I think about all the plant waste and kitchen scraps that didn't go straight to landfill. I imagine the heap of scrap is feeding the soil, even if it's a largely invisible process.