The Tension

I felt the tension building for a few months. This seems to be an annual event for me as I navigate the effects of drought on my garden, nature, and well-

being. I wrote about in my recent article, August, are you trying to kill me? It's about halfway through September, and summer refuses to relinquish its grip. I step carefully around the garden as the Yellow Jacket wasps, which seem to have ground nests on every square inch of my garden, lie in wait to attack and sting with the slightest disturbance. Having been attacked by them while hiking some years ago with over twenty stings, I'm, as you might think, hyper-vigilant when I'm around them.

The Tension - Spiderweb & Branch

I feel dried up and withdrawn. Like my many plant friends, I am conserving all my energy as best I can, hoping for more favorable conditions. My words and thoughts, which flowed freely in the past months, seem out of reach. I miss this connection to myself.

I tend my plants and ensure plenty of water for wildlife. I enjoy watching the Hummingbirds on my Salvia plants and their acrobatics around my Hummingbird feeders. The mornings are at least a little cooler, so I relish this time.

Glimmers of changes are coming to the weather, and I drag garden hoses yet one more day, hoping this daily ritual will soon end. Today, I arrived at our getaway place on the Cumberland Plateau in Tennessee to water my few plants there. To my delight, the three perennial and medicinal wildflowers of Richweed (Collinsonia canadensis) I planted in July are thriving. It's my first time seeing one blooming; as my plant ID books described, it has lemon-scented flowers! This simple pleasure is beginning to work its magic on my mood; the tension in my body is ever so slightly easing.

Richweed (Collinsonia canadensis)