I appreciate rainy days just as much as sunny ones. I love the way the rain makes the Earth smell sweet, and the soft beats it leaves on my back porch. The way it relaxes my mind and body and heart. I’m even starting to embrace the vicious thunder and lightning storms here in Missouri. Really, they are wicked. The days when it pours endlessly, those are my favorite. They give me a reason to stay inside and work all day and all night if I want to without feeling guilty about it. And they lend permission to Bravo-marathoning-it in my pajamas, and baking cupcakes and eating them for dinner.
But too much rain, too much of anything is not good. And the rain in St. Louis has been relentless. Today was the first day in I think seven or eight days that it didn’t rain, at all. And it felt pretty wonderful. I wandered out to the garden after the sun rose. Early mornings here in the Midwest are my favorite – before the sun gets too hot and the humidity is still thin. Mostly all of my plants have loved all this rain, thriving because of it. There were six casualties though. The bean plants did not make it, and I think I’ll probably plant some more and see what happens.
This garden has taught me a lot, mostly that gardening is an acquired skill and I have a lot to learn. And also it’s brought this person out inside of me that I never knew existed. It’s actually quite an amazing thing that’s happened. I used to be a catch-and-release kind of girl. Like trap bugs and spiders in mason jars and release them back outside, couldn’t stand to kill the smallest pest. Now I’m hissing at squirrels, cursing at rabbits and squashing green caterpillars beneath my feet. I don’t know who I am anymore, but I’ll pretty much do anything to protect my garden babies.