Harvest time approaches.  The bounty of the Earth is ready for the taking.  Man, machine, and mother nature resolve their issues for the time being.

I love good garden art.  Honestly I also have a secret fetish for tacky garden art as well – think gnomes, flamingos, and lawn silhouettes (the lady in bloomers bending over always gets me).  Boerner Boatnical Gardens in Hales Corners has a lovely variety of the former kind of garden art.

Yes, it’s been hot.

So this is where my parsley has been going.  I suppose the exchange is a good one though.  Fresh garden herbs for a chance to have a yard full of monarchs every year.

For some reason this guy just sits there and screams to me, “Help!”  It’s as if a blind hunter has been target practicing.  A little left.  No, wait, a little right.

At dusk we set out.  Pink, purple, and orange hues embraced us promising some relief.  The heat of the day was exhausting.  Dust clouds from the passing cars caked our lungs forming a loamy spittle that splashed into our hands every time we covered our mouths to cough.  It was only polite; mom had at least taught us that much.   We kept marching on, kicking gravel to pass the time, ignoring the heat long enough to take another step wondering how we got this far on a day like this.

If only they could speak.

The heat was palpable this weekend.  The corn roasted on the ear.  Pores poured as the sun teamed up with humidity to assault all that is good about summer.

About of a quarter of the way through the 3-6-5 project.  Some days I feel like I don’t find the time, lack the energy, or just plain forget to take a photo, edit, and blog it until the last minute.  Some days an energy crisis abounds and I’m stuck taking a picture of an electrical outlet at nine-thirty in the evening.  I think I can, I think I can.  Another nine months left and this will be second nature to me.

Amazing what a simple bouquet of flowers do for a room.