June is the second best month in our backyard. Of course, first place must be reserved for August, when the garden is overflowing with peppers, heirloom cherry tomatoes, and early apples—but there's nothing quite like that flood of flowers in every colour. The air is either spiked with daphne, honeysuckle, mock orange, or roses—wow. We call our just-under-an-acreage Freedman's Eden for good reason!
Rosa “Big Purple” held in front of Rosa “Laguna”
With such a mild frost, the roses had very little dieback, and gave us the best flush I’ve ever seen in our seven summers here. I could have picked a bouquet every day of the month, and not made a dent in the flurry of flowers outside.
It’s hard to capture the vegetable garden en masse, as it’s a 12 x 40 foot strip along our western fence line. I’ve divided it into 4x4 foot plots with spaced pavers for walkways. We tend to mulch with summer grass clippings and autumn rakings—in the hope of a no-till, permaculture approach, but our clay-heavy soil is becoming quite compacted in certain areas and it may be time to fluff it up with a roto-tiller, sand, and mushroom compost. Next year, perhaps.
“Golden Sweet” snow pea and “Tie Dye” clematis taking over the tomato trellis arch
Scapes have been harvested, garlic scape pesto has been made and frozen into jars. I got about 2L this year, from ~80 scapes. That’s enough for a year of party charcuteries.
Volunteer nasturtium, alyssum, and dill popped up as usual, and I moved them around to more sensible spots. My beloved Kinstai summer celery did not overwinter, and thankfully I found a couple of babies sprouting in paver cracks, so those were upgraded to a bed and I’m hoping they’ll produce enough to go to seed next year. West Coast Seeds doesn’t carry this variety anymore—a good reminder to take the time to save your own seeds!
Dahlias feel behind this year, but my May 15 planting was the latest I’d ever done, having prioritized the garden. They’ll catch up.
Tomatoes are taking off, but my peppers are still pretty underwhelming. I suspect they will benefit from extra hand-watering, which is a hassle on top of everything else.
Sweet peas, clockwise from left: King’s Ransom, High Scent (April In Paris), Lunar Blue, Blue Shift (far right), Midnight, Janet Scott (centre, soft pink)
I’ve found a new obsession beyond dahlias: sweet peas! Of these, listed above, High Scent is extraordinary in fragrance. Blue Shift would be #2, and Janet Scott + Lunar Blue would be tied for pleasant but not strong. Midnight has no scent, but the size and vigour are worth including it—and who can say no to King’s Ransom for sheer colour alone? A few varieties I’m holding for a fall planting are: Gerry Cullinan, Tara, Almost Black, and NZ Gardener.
I need to get better at taking close detailed flower shots with my humble iPhone 15. Apparently if you hold it farther back, then zoom 2x, it works better than trying to hold too close. Have you tried this?
“Golden Sweet” snow pea
We planted six varieties of peas this year: Sugar Daddy, Sugar Lace, Super Sugar Snap, Sugar Magnolia, and Golden Sweet. Of them all, the latter was far and above the winner for health and vigour. Granted, it had the best spot, and this is always the challenge with peas. This year we had a very early harvest; they don’t often get going until July, when everything else is competing for the sunniest spot. If I plant too early, the baby slugs in the soil get the seeds before they even sprout. This was the latest year I planted, and many of the varieties I put in afternoon shade to protect them from the sometimes blistering June sun did not seem to appreciate my planning.
I’ll have to try another configuration of peas next year that doesn’t overwhelm the tomato trellis like that golden monster above. Perhaps short guys in front, or many small rows interspersed amongst the 4x4 beds. I would love a large and continuous harvest of peas, but there always seems to be something working against us; not enough water, too much sun, too many slugs, etc.
Luna. Tripod. Loony. This little patio-lounging, food-stealin’ stinker is our best mouser, despite having no tail and only three legs. Somehow, she ferrets out mice and voles on the regular, batting them with glee around the patio edge with a “smize”. We leave her to her natural instincts, unless if it looks like her haphazard play will result in the prey escaping unscathed. Without her, we would have a significantly larger pest problem in the garden. Our cat-free year in 2021, we were overrun!
On a rosier end note, this fistful of baby zinnias are saved seed from Floret’s “Little Flower Girl” line. Remarkably similar in shade, underwhelming in size, I am hoping to see more double flowers as the heat boosts up their growth. I actually don’t mind small zinnias, but I want to see longer stems and volume to make up for size.
This mini rose is called “Sweet Chariot”, and it was languishing in a dry, shady patch when we moved in. I didn’t think much of it until the glorious perfume of its deep fuschia flowers—maybe only 1.5 inches across—wafted across the driveway. I had a hunch it would flourish if given a better spot, and this might be the most dramatic “After” photo I’ve taken in our garden. From one spindly branch into a mounded 3-foot spread, covered with hundreds of blooms, you can smell it across the yard! It can be hard to find, but I do know that Fraser Valley Rose Farm in Deroche sometimes carries it.
