For the Summer Solstice, I thought I’d pay homage to a little patch of green outside the back entrance to my apartment. I’ve dreamed of having green space ever since I moved into my first solo apartment seven years ago. Two apartments later, I finally have somewhat of a “backyard”, a large fenced-in sprawl of grass and winding sidewalks leading to separate dwellings. It’s one of the reasons I picked this apartment, (the other reason being, mainly, I have no time to make a choice and this is good enough).
This spring, I’ve settled into making this space a place I want to be. In past years, in order to get enough time outside in the warmer months, I’d go to a coffee shop with a patio and stay as long as I felt it was acceptable before I should either leave or order another drink. Or I’d sit on my front stoop and brush Kiva for an hour. Or I’d walk. But I longed for a place to sit and read and write and eat and drink my coffee for as long as I pleased, without worrying over capitalist or social pressures. I’ve borrowed a swing and an outdoor table from my parents, and planted some tomatoes, basil, and marjoram in pots beside them. I’m not confident I will get tomatoes, but I love the smell of their leaves and their fuzzy stems and remembering my parents’ tomato-filled garden from years past. I like to wander out my back door and pick basil and marjoram for salad or scrambled eggs. Or clip lemon verbena from its pot on the windowsill for tea. It’s such a small thing. Yet it’s big because it is one thing in my life that is truly mine.
Usually during the day, when the sun is high and relentless, I sit on the swing while Kiva runs around taking care of dog business: sniffing everything to make sure it’s where it should be, eating grass, peeing on stuff. I’ve gotten more sunburns than I care to admit in those quiet minutes. It’s peaceful. It’s luxurious. I am so grateful to have it.
Tell me what you’ve planted this season, what you’re hoping to grow, what you’re planning to do? How will you celebrate this summer?