It’s a Jungle Out There

/ Richard R. Barron
As my camera is my witness, it is as beautiful on our little patch of green as anywhere in the world.
As my camera is my witness, it is as beautiful on our little patch of green as anywhere in the world.
Virginia Creeper dangles from a branch of our walnut tree.
Virginia Creeper dangles from a branch of our walnut tree.

Readers of my newspaper might have noticed some significant changes, and while I was feeling somewhat negative about them over the last couple of weeks, I’ve decided that most of that came from a few individuals who weren’t comfortable with change, and particularly after a cordial lunch with our publisher, I’m feeling better about our situation.

I’ve been adding more and more global photojournalists to my social media friends list, and it’s nice to see them and their work on the web.

The moon was full on May 29, so I got out my experimental/throw away 500mm mirror lens and made this image of it.
The moon was full on May 29, so I got out my experimental/throw away 500mm mirror lens and made this image of it.

And of course, it’s June. To say that my garden grows well is an understatement, and no matter how fragile or stressful my work life can get, it offers a meaningful retreat.

Neither my neighbors the Nipps nor I have any peaches this year, thanks to a mid-April freeze. The cherries appear fine, however, and my efforts to cover the garden plants appear to have been completely successful.

I have two small cherry trees. Since they bloom later than the peaches, sometimes by as much as two months, they survive spring freezes better and bear fruit more often. They are small and insanely sour, but somehow irresistible anyway.
I have two small cherry trees. Since they bloom later than the peaches, sometimes by as much as two months, they survive spring freezes better and bear fruit more often. They are small and insanely sour, but somehow irresistible anyway.

Yesterday I found my first cucumber of the season, and brought it to my wife Abby. I broke it open for her and we both smelled it. “There’s nothing like that fresh smell,” she said with an unquenchable smile on her face.

Here's a nice low-angle frame showing bell peppers on their plants. Encroaching from the right are cantaloup vines. I don't usually think of my garden as a jungle, but from ground-level, it very much seems that way.
Here’s a nice low-angle frame showing bell peppers on their plants. Encroaching from the right are cantaloup vines. I don’t usually think of my garden as a jungle, but from ground-level, it very much seems that way.
After our walk, Hawken likes to sit by the fence in the back yard and watch me work in the garden.
After our walk, Hawken likes to sit by the fence in the back yard and watch me work in the garden.

Hawken the Irish Wolfhound is still at home on the long, slack leash. I only retract it to keep him out of the neighbor’s poison ivy. After we walk, he sits by the garden and watches me work.

I pulled up the last of the radishes, which yielded about 200. The lettuce is still plentiful. Abby’s summer squash will probably be the next garden item to pick in any numbers. My tomatoes and peppers are huge, but not ripe. And while I haven’t seen any fruit on them, the cantaloup vines seem healthy and have lots of blossoms.

My cantaloup field is lush and verdant. I hope the big leaves and runners mean big fruit in the near future.
My cantaloup field is lush and verdant. I hope the big leaves and runners mean big fruit in the near future.