The herb garden has sprung back to life. I walk out the back door, and a pie chart of an herb garden stands at my feet.
Tonight i'm cooking spaghetti sauce. I cut 2-inch tall oregano, thyme, Egyptian onion tops, and garlic chives. So fresh that the bottled sauce revives itself into complicated flavors.
The apple mint is 2 inches tall. Well, that was yesterday. Maybe it's 3 inches tall today. It's sending out explorers to the nearby countries of Wormwood, Lovage, and Tansy. I ruthlessly pull those minty colonizers out by their roots in an effort to keep the exploding population within its own borders.
When i have a colander full of mint sprigs, i turn on the tea kettle. I stuff the rinsed mint leaves into a glass pitcher and fill to the brim with boiling water for a 2-day supply of iced tea. My honey calls it "iced mint water." By whatever name you call it, it's a cool drink for a warm day.
I love the herb garden, even though it is not showy. I've considered how i might age with my gardens. All the others may revert to woods or lawn or groundcover. The herb garden will be the last to go.