Just this week, the trees on Music Street are budding out, as are the blueberry bushes, the scrub oaks, everything tufted with brilliant chartreuse against the perpetually gray sky.

All those summer things I am excited about – zinnias, Armenian cukes, these dorky little dwarf sunflowers – are all getting long and leggy, making like it’s the fourth of July and it’s time to put on a party dress. I’ve been spending a lot of time in there lately, bumping plants up into progressively bigger pots, trying to buy more time. Sometimes it feels like every time I turn around, there’s yet another plant, amaranth or tomatillo or tassel flowers, fixing to get up and run right out the door.

I think the cold-stunned bumblebee I found among the basil flats this morning has the right idea. It’s cloudy and cool outside. How about we all leave the growing for another day, and take a freakin nap.