June was chaos – just pure garden chaos. The month quickly morphed into July, obviously, as we are now blasting toward August, and I am failing miserably at trying to document month-by-month changes in the garden. Admittedly, it was an ambitious goal.
Bee-dazzled…
First order of craziness was a honey bee swarm. If you have ever stood very still in the middle of a honey bee swarm and felt and heard thousands of bees swirling all around you (Loudly!) in what is obviously organized chaos – you know what it is like to experience one of nature’s many miracles. In less than an hour they can hide their Queen amid the confusion and shuttle her through the narrow entrance to the hive. Everyone follows and suddenly all is calm. Had I not been standing there seeing it happen, I might not have known.
You can read more about this amazing event at New Bees 2025.
I thought sure a swarm would move in earlier this spring. Perhaps the hedgerow of blooming Himalayan blackberries just behind the empty hive convinced them to choose it now.
Not that we are back in the bee business. Keeping honey bees has taught me a lot about the importance of native bees, and since we have quit housing multiple colonies, I have noticed an increase in other pollinators. We are no longer building Warré hives; however, we still have a couple of empty ones out back.
I provide lots of flowers, medicinal herbs, and a place to set up house — if a colony is looking for a home, they are welcome to stay. But I am not going to bother manipulating them or harvesting honey. They will need their food; winters can be cold and damp here.
Raccoon in the Afternoon….
Also on the slightly crazy side…
There we were, sitting on our deck, calmly enjoying the sun getting low in the sky at about 7:30 pm, feeling the warmth of what was officially the beginning of the meteorological summer – when who should come right up to the house, not realizing we were there, but a raccoon! When I tried to take a photo of it standing up and looking around, it must have caught a whif of my scent and ran back to the end of the field and into a tunnel to the labyrinth in the blackberry bushes. It obviously knew where it was going. Very large – about the size of a medium-sized dog.
There is a whole network of paths over the side of the hill. An assortment of critters know they can usually find water here, and often food, too, although I don’t put out much seed in the summer. The birds can easily find their own.
Possum Possibilities…
And then there is this little guy, who came out in broad daylight and hung around for a couple of hours. Did you know – opossums will go off on their own when they are only 3-4 months old, which, considering they are about the size of a honey bee when they are born, is quite amazing. Although independent, they are still quite vulnerable at this young adult stage.
Peacock Saga Continues…
But the BIG EVENT of the month was much more colorful, exciting, and tragic, all at once: peacocks.
Readers might remember that Mr. Peacock scouted out the place last month, and soon, a younger male and a couple of hens followed.
I was enchanted… the larger peahen seemed to remember me and came right up to me, looked me in the eye, and politely asked if I might have any grain to share. “Of course!” I replied, and ran and got her some – and our friendship continued from there.
And then came the day when I almost stumbled upon her nest. I was pulling out invasive thistles in search of a water line and caught the faintest hint of blue in the brambles – in the most unlikely of places, between an alder and a drop-off to the busy road below – and she had flattened herself to be invisible against the ground, hiding four large eggs beneath her.
I felt like an idiot. I had just cleared a path for all predators to come and find her. Plus, she built her nest right on top of the water line.
I quickly piled back the debris to create a berm around her and hoped for the best.
Several days later, she introduced us to three new chicks – fuzzy, healthy, finding food on their own, and tripping over things to keep up with Big Mama peahen.
We were ecstatic. I sent out photos and birth announcements to all my friends and relations.
(Yes – one egg was left in the nest and did not hatch. I did not interfere, but trusted Mama Peahen to know what was best.)
And then tragedy struck in the dark and stormy solstice night. We had a full quarter inch of hard rain – which might not seem like much to some, but was more than half of what we received all month. In the morning, the younger peacock looked particularly bedraggled. All the peafowl were distraught — especially Big Mama, who walked up and down the driveway, honking. The peachicks were nowhere to be found.
I followed Mama Peahen into the orchard, where I found a big bunch of black wing and under tail feathers (probably from the young male) – but no sign of chicks. She sat down in the grass and stared into the distance. I did the same, sharing her sorrow.
Three of the four adults still hang around from time to time, but Big Mama has left. We shall see if they return again next year.
You can read the full story of our history with these gorgeous (and admittedly somewhat destructive) birds on The Peacock Chronicles.
It has been a reality check for me as I continue to enhance what I hope is a paradise for wildlife, knowing that such an ecosystem, by nature, will also draw predators. In this case, we strongly suspect coyote.
This is, after all, what nature is. Everything — whether animal, plant, fungi, or microbe — has to eat. And so I am trying to be more plant-like, magically changing sunshine into sugars. Wish me luck on this endeavor.
In the Meantime…
Life carries on.
Little birds are grateful for water and extra seed on a few hot days.
Squirrel buddy still makes an appearance from time to time. He makes a variety of sounds — sometimes a trill that sounds almost quail-like. Sometimes a chirp. What do the sounds mean? Does he mimic other animals? He races down the trunk when he thinks I am not looking. I stand very still, but I see him out of the corner of my eye. He sees me out of the corner of his. I step away, and he continues, unphased. He is focused. I am easily distracted.
Jungle Garden Chaos
I spent several days slashing my way through bindweed, thistles, grasses, and every invasive plant you can think of. This is clearly not sustainable at my age. It is a good workout that needs to be balanced between that which strengthens and that which breaks. I burrow a tunnel through the thicket, knowing there are shrubs in there that would appreciate a little more sunshine. I emerge scratched and itchy.
Bushwhacking
There is a path here that leads to water…somewhere….
Every day is a new discovery of something that has grown beyond expectations.
(I am praying that my blueberries are still out there – perhaps the weeds are hiding them from browsing deer?)
But what is more interesting is the perspective it gives me on growth, change, survival, and succession.
And how the little sparrows and finches feed on the grass seeds… a good reason not to clear everything out (or spend money on expensive birdseed blends that they toss to the ground).
This is, after all, a chaos garden, not an estate.
And did I mention, the ground is covered in ants. And they bite. Maybe if I clear a path, something will be able to eat them. Or maybe they will go back to where they came from.
Oh. Maybe that’s here.
Don’t mind me; I am just passing through….
A More Controlled Garden Chaos
Behold the orchard!
Here, too, the grass has grown 5-ft high. A weed-trimmer would struggle here; a lawnmower would never enter – but a SCYTHE – master tool of making hay! People think using a scythe is archaic or difficult – but no, it is more about finesse and movement than brute strength – a great way to build your core while accomplishing something – and it can be quite relaxing.
I pile the hay in a circle around the tree to help conserve moisture and build the soil.
Grass is grass, though – and it quickly grows back. Touching up again with the scythe is easy. I am not achieving a manicured look here … just keeping things open for access.
Berries, & Blooms
We are harvesting currants, raspberries (yes! My woven willow fence has kept out the deer!), and cherries are coming on. New things are blooming every day – fireweed, rhododendrons, yarrow, saskatoon/service berries, mock orange, and when we take a walk to the river, lots of ocean spray and honeysuckle, and salmon berries starting to ripen make a nice treat.
Wild Delicacies
The Mock Orange, tall, shrubby, delicate, and fragrant – enough to make you pause. The tiny wild geranium … delicate and hidden beneath the bay and medlar trees, manages to grow in shade. Daisies – popping up everywhere – sometimes thickly covering an entire field – not native, but definitely wild! And then the fireweed – which I allow to grow in the greenhouse even though it gets quite large, just because it is so beautiful and reminds me of entire hillsides of it in Alaska when I was young.
Herbs, Dye Plants, Perennial Vegetables and Other Useful Plants
St. John’s Wort, both native and domestic, are in full bloom – and the domesticated variety is spreading over the hillside where usually nothing but grass and brambles will grow, making a striking groundcover of yellow and green. I try to grow more natives, but sometimes I have difficulty finding something that will compete against the grass. The kinnickinnick does a fair job, but it, too, gets obscured.
Lots of herbs are blooming right now. The Elecampane has shot up to 8-feet high, and along with the Angelica, make a bold statement. Sage and thyme have been blooming all month; oregano is lush and fragrant.
Also blooming are several perennial vegetables: Scorzonera, Good King Henry (Chenopodium Bonus-Henricus), Sea Kale (Crambe maritime), and, of course, Artichokes, which are a bumblebee favorite when fully open. Golden Marguerite is another daisy-like plant that yields a bright yellow dye.
Exotics In the Greenhouse
Showstoppers … need we say more?
Our Iconic Refuge … the magic hour
The willow room is absolutely magical with the way the light flickers through the greenery.
The air is filled with birdsong, morning through night, and at twilight, peacocks wail in the backyard and, yes, coyotes howl in the distance. We can even hear the lions roar – they are housed at the Game Farm down the road – so that adds a little exotic adventure to the mix. We sleep in a tent in the backyard so we can take it all in.
Wrapping up the Month of June Garden Chaos
On the last day of June, we topped 80*F in our little corner of the Northwest that rarely sees above 70 until after the 4th of July. We thought it was brutal, which I know will make many readers laugh. Our total rain for the month was a mere 0.44″. I have driplines turned on, quietly soaking the earth. The plants have responded in abundance.
So yes – despite all the bindweed, thistles, and tall grasses, a few favorites are thriving. Now if I can only create a few more paths to water spigots that I know are out there, clear out around the shrubs that are dwarfed by the overgrowth so they can see the sunshine, keep the bindweed at bay, and mulch the world … those will be my challenges for July, when things Really kick into high gear.
But for right now, end of June, the garden is so freakin’ amazing, I can hardly believe it. It makes me incredibly happy just to sit in the middle of it and try to absorb all that is going on all at once – which, of course, is impossible.
Where We Go From Here… Paths Forward through the Jungle
This is a garden ecolog – wherein I record what I see and do during the month. And yet, because of recent events, it can be hard to stay focused on my vision of ecological gardening and helping wildlife when so many people in the world are suffering. If only others could experience what we are so lucky to have here. My heart goes out to those in war-torn lands and to those in our own country who give so much but who are treated as criminals. The inequality and cruelty in this world are so hard to understand.
We do not have to fall into the trap of anger, greed, and hate. Sharing joy and gratitude is in many ways an act of rebellion. Discovering a bit of wonder – providing for wildlife – nourishing the soil – helping one another … together, we can change the narrative and make this world a better place.
So… a path forward:
Choose joy, protect nature, offer kindness,
Stay connected,
and mulch the world…
Blythe
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Chaos is correct! I can’t believe that you found time to write the text AND add all the photos.
But it is very meaningful to those of us who need your dose of nature!
Thank you for sharing and feeding us. Love from NC
Thank you so very much, Deirdre! I do wonder why I challenged myself to make these monthly posts. Lol. That was sure a silly idea. Haha! Much love to you and many thanks again for the Crocosmia! They have brought the hummingbirds and me so much joy!