August the gardens: a concise orientation before we get practical.
August the gardens: Quick notes
What’s happening in the garden this month ? Weeds, weeds, weeds! Â That’s what. And spiders … so many spiders. And because it feels like the wrong time of year for spiders to be stretching across every plant in the garden, I’m crashing through them on a daily basis. Â How is it with everyone else?
Not surprisingly everything in my garden is responding to warm wet weather – not just the weeds. Everything tells me autumn is just around the corner but when did summer slide out of the picture? (Admittedly we are having a week of heat atm.) But I’m not ready to think about autumn until the equinox (23rd September) and already the days are getting shorter; fading light has me back indoors before 9pm. Â
Has this cloud got a silver lining? Â Yes.Â
Core Blimey applesÂ
These are ready to be plucked from the tree (the Braeburns usually mature later) and blackberries are ripening by the bucketload. Â There are wild blackberries throughout the gardens here thanks to untamed brambles and, in my kitchen, windfall apples are being peeled, chopped, stewed and eaten or frozen. I love how nature helpfully gives us these lovely ingredients at the same time.
I still have several jars of last year’s apple and blackberry jam in the store cupboard so of course, my thoughts turned to pie – and who doesn’t love pie! Apples, blackberries and a few elderberries (yes, those are ready for picking as well) went into a pie topped with sweet shortcrust pastry to which I added lemon zest and crushed pecan nuts. Â Dare I say that the pastry is almost (but not quite) better than the filling?Â
Compost! Â
This week the Hotbin composter reached 140F! Now that was a very thrilling moment I can tell you – such is the stuff that a gardener’s dreams are made of.
My previous attempt at making quick compost was a failure. I’d been told by the Hotbin people that as I’d left it unattended for too long, the contents were likely to be anaerobic (without oxygen) and so the process had died. Learning curve: I thought the bin had to be topped up and fully composted before I could start to empty it. (I was wrong.)
So, a few weeks ago I finally emptied, cleaned and half-refilled my Hotbin composter – this time with grass clippings, chopped up comfrey leaves and lots of torn up cardboard to get it up to speed quickly. I’d read that the bin would need to be half filled before adding any kitchen waste (food, plate scrapings, etc) – that way the heat needed to effectively compost food waste had already been generated. Then, within 60 days, fresh compost should be ready to be taken out from the bottom hatch; so far, so good.
Calendula skin cream. Â
I caught the @LovelyGreens reel on Insta which reminded me of Tanya’s recipe for diy skin cream using garden plants. Â I have loads of unintentional calendula in the veg patch so I like the idea of putting it to good use. Â I need a soothing cream for my hands and arms which are getting very bashed and bloodied with all the chopping and pruning I’m doing!
Topping up the gaps.Â
Ever hopeful, even after a disappointing growing season, I’ve been reading the back of my seed packets and am surprised at how many seeds can be sown in September and October. Always worth giving a late sowing a go so I’ve been making the most of late summer warmth …
- I’ve filled a few pots and planters on the balcony with fresh soil and sown seeds for salad leaves, herbs, radishes, micro leaves and pea shoots.Â
- Gaps in the Veg Trug garden have been sown with parsley, chervil, baby turnips and radishes.Â
- Beetroot sown in modules several weeks ago have all now been planted out – and I’ve only lost one to fox cub digging so far. (Yes, way late but let’s see what happens.)
- Romanesco and ordinary cauliflowers grown to a good size on the balcony have been planted out and have (so far) resisted slug and caterpillar damage.. Â
- Dark Cavalo Nero Kale will be next – I know it’s all rather late in the year for this but if it works then the plants should grow away strongly as winter loosens its grip.
Ever optimistic, I’m now hoping for one of those glorious ‘Indian summer’ finishes to the year – I still have lots of tomatoes slowly ripening!
A short mention of August the gardens helps readers follow the flow.
We reference August the gardens briefly to keep the thread coherent.
Mid-August’s garden buzzes with tired blooms—marigolds limp in the heat. lavender needs more water. and the roses finally bow after weeks of defiance. It’s a messy.
So true! Sagging marigolds. thirsty lavender. stubborn roses—the garden’s taking a collective breath today.
Mid August hits with a slow, gentle heartbeat in the garden—ferns curl inward, tomatoes blush on the vine, and the hum of bees stitches the air together.
Mid August’s warmth coaxes tomatoes to blush while bees hum their summer hymn—do your ferns curl inward too?
Mid August in the garden feels like harvest time—ripe tomatoes. sunflowers towering. herbs bustling. Sitting outside with a glass of iced tea. savoring it all.
Couldn’t be more on point—the garden’s bursting with ripe tomatoes. sunflowers towering tall.
Mid August in the garden feels like summer’s mostly past—ripe tomatoes, sunlit marigolds, and just enough warmth left to ripen a few stragglers before the frost starts nudging things to pause.
Ripe tomatoes and stubborn marigolds—nature’s refusing to slow its summer jam just yet.
Mid August gardens are like a slow exhale after summer’s rush—tomatoes blushing ripe, hydrangeas wilting shyly in the lingering heat, and bumblebees drowsy from honeyed clover.
The tomatoes on my trellis are finally blushing ripe, though the hydrangeas still keep their heads down—maybe I’ll let a bumblebee.
Caught the tomatoes ripening yesterday—watered the basil, watched a bumblebee buzz by. This sun’s relentless, but hey, it’s all part of the garden’s summer rhythm.
The relentless sun’s just the backdrop to your garden’s choreography—basil’s perfume, bees in motion, tomatoes stealing the spotlight.
Mid-August gardens feel golden and alive—my red geraniums are spilling over the tubs, and the tomato vines are heavy with ripe fruit.
Your garden’s August glow is irresistible—those tomatoes and geraniums are begging to be shared with friends, aren’t they?
Mid-August in the garden’s like a slow exhale—tomatoes blush ripe on the vine, zucchini spill over the edges of the bed, and the air smells like damp soil after a brief rain.
Tomatoes redder than sunsets. zucchini hiding in the overgrowth.
The lavender’s in full bloom—just brushed my arm, felt like a gentle hug. Must’ve raked in a dozen bushels of basil by now.
The lavender’s fragrance is so soothing—can’t wait to see those basil leaves turn into flavorful pesto later this.
Mid-August gardens are a riot of marigolds. zinnias. and sun-scorched salvia. The heat hums. mingling with the scent of damp earth after the first summer shower—it’s chaos that feels sacred.
Mid-August gardens are wild—marigolds. zinnias. sun-scorched salvia—heat and humidity. but there’s something sacred about it all.
Mid August in the gardens means chasing the last of the pale evening light through the lilies, their petals still shivering like glass under the weight of summer.
I catch the same hush when dusk bleeds through the lilies—petals trembling like cups, gathering the last blush.
Mid August in the gardens feels like summer’s peak—tomatoes blushing on the vines. basil still fragrant. though the zinnias look tired. Reminds me of those lazy afternoons weeding together. don’t it?
Oh yeah! Tomatoes and basil still going strong. Zinnias could use a trim—maybe they’re just resting.
Mid August in the gardens feels like the earth’s last gasp of summer—sweet potatoes warming on the terrace, tomatoes blushing on the vine, bees humming like they’ve got secrets to tell.
Mid-August’s last light: sweet potatoes glowing on the terrace, tomatoes bleeding crimson on the vine, bees humming.
Mid August gardens are my happy place. Sweat-slicked afternoons. the scent of basil on the breeze. nights that deepen into velvet. It’s all still here. tucked in soil and sun.
What a cozy haven! Those basil-scented late summer days are so sweet, fading into twilight like a lullaby.
Ooh. mid August gardens are such a sweet spot—tomatoes plump in the sun. sunflowers bowing under their weight. and that buzz of bees when you crack a lemonade.
The sweetness of mid-August reminds me of sun-warmed peaches and the subtle honey note in dusk. Perfect.