Brief holiday from the garden

Memorial Day provides a brief respite from work.  This Monday holiday is summer’s official launch.  The family gathers to feast on lobster and to celebrate two wedding anniversaries.  I pick peonies for each bride and bring a rhubarb crisp for dessert.  The dish is old-fashioned and modern at the same time.  I use a "paleo" version that eliminates gluten by substituting almond flour for wheat flour.  The crisp is sweetened with local honey and enhanced with additions of lemon zest and cardamom.  This intensely aromatic spice smells delicious as it permeates the bubbling pink spears.

The next morning it’s back to work.

I shoo a pair of catbirds from the garden shed.  This is the second year they have returned to investigate the site.  Since I open and close the door many times a day, the shed would be a disastrous location for a nest. 

One bird flies at once to the white pine across the drive.  The other is not so ready to surrender an apparently good possibility.  It perches on a low branch of a nearby cedar.  Catbirds are saucy, active birds, slightly smaller than robins and not as plump.  Dark gray body feathers blend into an almost black head.  Its song will fool you into believing there is a cat mewling in that tree.

I close the shed door and return to the garden to plant calla lilies.  In southern Africa, where callas originate, the plant is considered a roadside weed.  But here, the large showy flower is prized, especially for bridal bouquets.  To my surprise, the plant grows easily in southern New England.  blooms range in color from giant whites and neon yellows to smaller blooms in pastel shades.  As reliable as clockwork, calla rhizomes produce flowers ten weeks after I plant them.  There is only one drawback to this sunning best seller.  Too tender to survive the cold, roots must be pulled and given a frost-free storage place for winter.  

As I move along the shallow trenches to plant callas, holiday visitors are on their way home.  A small plane buzzes overhead on takeoff from the Westerly airport.  A few minutes later, two short and one long blast of a horn announces the New York-Boston train approaching a grade crossing and about to end the nearby Rhode Island station.