In other words, the weather today is fabulous. After days and days of heatwave, the last couple of days thunderstorms blew in, and cool air followed. Today dawned fair, fresh, and bright. I picked up my garden worker at 7 a.m. (not the hard-to-live-with 6 a.m. that was our schedule when it was dangerously hot), and we both went to work in the garden. Yesterday the heat wave had already broken: my assistant dug planting holes and, when I ran out of inspiration finding spots, mowed the grass on both sides of the Serbian bed. I've been continuing the very slow work of tidying in the beds. The mowing in particular groomed the garden wonderfully: a tangle of roses, neat grass paths, vigorous hedges adorned with the wonderful weeds of summer: chicory, teasel, Queen Anne's lace, and others.

Looking at these areas, I can see how the summer garden in a temperate zone can--ought to?--be. Vigorous green shrubs, sheared grass, trees for shade, hardly a flower in sight. The once-blooming roses are done and can rest, as can peonies, lilacs, spring bulbs, irises, and all the other glories of April, May, June. There are a few plants in bloom. The last of the clematis, trumpet vine (speaking of which, I need to check and make sure it isn't suckering out of its zone), odds and ends like Bouncing Bet and bedstraws. I saw the first ripe figs on a tree in the bottom of the garden; it seems the perfect moment to lie back under a tree and eat some.