HerbnArts

      ... The moon was glowing in a muggy haze at its fullest.  It was hard not to stare at the ghostly orb, totally mesmerized by its strange pale light.  The end of summer was upon us in the Magic City.  The autumn equinox declared the official beginning of fall.  A few bushes and trees had begun to show a bit of bright color, but it had stayed too hot to actually help the process along.  Greenish brown leaves had begun to fall from trees, signs they were showing the stress of the peculiar weather of this summer.  Lawn grasses were turning brown and crunching under foot.  And yet, somehow Le Petit Jardin managed to produce more than enough herbal treasures for me to still enjoy.      Finally the predicted rains came to Barberton, soaking the dry bones ground.  Knowing that it was going to rain, I hastily harvested Holy basil from its growing bowl.  Sweet basil was begging to be harvested as its flowers waved in the breeze.  The Holy basil made a delightful fragrant bouquet in a canni

       ... It is late August and in the otherwise quiet morning, I can hear the noisy rattle of cicadas with an accompaniment of crickets chirping in the background.  These familiar summer sounds confirm for me that the world goes on no matter what is happening all around. The occasional dry leaf slowly floats down from neighborhood trees.  In spite of the copious rains we have experienced here in the Magic City, things are dry.  My father, a woodsman by nature, taught me to observe nature and to read the signs of the seasons it shared.  As gardeners, my grandmother and her sisters talked about the signs of the seasons. predicting the next seasons ahead by reading those signs.  Is it any wonder I contemplate the seasons ahead by reading nature's signs as I sip my tea or coffee to start my day.  I guess I have become the go-to gal for my friends who somehow expect me to knowingly predict the following season's weather.  Maybe I should start dressing like a wooly bear caterpillar

      ... A cabbage moth flitted lightly around the flowering thyme, stopping now and then, flittering again to another spot on the fragrant herb.  It was a gentle reminder of the warm sunny days of August.  Was it really August already?  Where had the summer gone?  I had more basil than I could manage to harvest and my thyme plants were spilling onto the walkways.  The many rainstorms of the summer had left the herbs growing with wild abandon, making them grow faster than I could manage to harvest.  The various mints in Le Petit Jardin were growing crazily everywhere.  Thank heaven they were growing in containers or I would be strangling from their "Day of the Triffids" growth. This summer season I had managed to include a few red geraniums in pots on my front deck.  Their cherry red blooms have been a happy greeting each time I come home.  As usual I have been late at shaping up Le Petit Jardin.  For all my gardening good intentions, I have not managed to plant any sunflowe

      A bright red light was shining onto my face waking me up much earlier than I had wanted.  What was that red light and how did it get there?  Fumbling for my glasses, I squinted out of my window and through my neighborhood trees at the bright light.  It was definitely red.  As the fog in my brain slowly lifted, I realized that the bright light was actually the morning sun.  I can't remember ever seeing the sun appearing red like a traffic signal.  For many years I was an early morning riser, but not so much in my retirement years.  My memories of early morning sun were that of a dark orange orb that grew more golden in hue as the minutes passed.  This was a different morning sun than my recollections could handle.  In the Twilight Zone of my early morning mind I was questioning whether or not I had simply been transported to another planet.  After glancing at the morning sun again and finding that it was now a light golden color, I comfortably settled into a world I recognized

       ... Howling winds, torrential rain, rolling thunder and lightning furiously slammed through the Magic City.  But finally it was cooler.  My morning began with inspecting my yard to see if I had "lost" anything to the wild winds of the storm. Fortunately everything was where I had left it the day before. Though it was a bit breezy, the day was deliciously cool and partially sunny.  Perfect gardener's weather... Immediately I wrestled out my packet of mammoth sunflower seeds and poked five seeds into the moist soil.  My next fun task was that of harvesting the new crop of lavender stems I had been carefully watching.  Le Petit Jardin was already yielding its green stems.  The fragrance of freshly cut lavender put me in my happy place once again, reminding me that it isn't about the size of the garden.  It is all about the amount of joy one derives from the sensory experience of nurturing plants, harvesting the bounty, and enjoying using the final product of one&#

      ....Memories flooded my mind as I sipped some lemongrass green tea. Quietly I was transported to a time and place from over twenty years ago in my herbal experiences.  An herb farm that is no longer in business was once a favorite happy place for me.  Homemade salves and teas were created at that green sanctuary.  Herbal oils, tinctures, and herbal toilet waters were part of the offerings.  There was always a class or two happening that shared herbal crafting moments of joy.  Discovering trinkets, pottery specialties was part of the fun at that herb farm.  Not only did they sell precious herb plants, but bulk dried herbs were for sale also.  Woody garden aromas permeated the atmosphere of the herb shop and farm greenhouse.  Light buzzing of bees indicated the business of pollinators steadily at work.  Butterflies flitted throughout the gardens.  Everywhere birds could be heard chirping their cheerful conversations to each other.  Homemade cookies and a cup of freshly brewed tea g

       ....As the rollercoaster ride of temperatures here in Ohio continues, today we have cool and wet conditions.  At least it isn't snow.  We did end out April with some snow, but we seem to be passed that.  All the wetness is causing all the grass to grow as if it was on steroids.  My yard is sporting dandelions that should be Japanese horror film stars.  But for herb people that's a good thing, right?  All kinds of teas, salads, infusions and salves are just begging to be concocted.  The blooming lilacs were inviting me to make infused honey.  I diligently cut as many blossoms as I could manage as I knew it would snow overnight.  And of course I was nearly out of honey, so that meant I would need to add honey to my grocery list.  The snows came and went.  Surviving a covering of snow, the lilac bush seemed none the worse for the white covering.  But the blossoms had very little noticeable fragrance.  So much for lilac infused honey!               On the day after National