Danny Heitman surveys swallowtail caterpillars in his family garden. The caterpillars will become butterflies, a great summer spectacle for Louisiana gardeners. To eat breakfast in the backyard before the heat gets too fierce, my wife and I try to rise early in summer, savoring a quiet hour with eggs and coffee while the sun is still low.
I start each morning by opening the patio umbrella, our way of raising the sail to glide through the day. My wife reminds me to lower it again as we clear the dishes. She wants every bit of light to nourish her garden as the day brightens, an important thing in a yard thickly shadowed by trees.
Because direct sunlight tends to be scarce where we live, I urge moderation when we browse the local plant nursery. But my wife is a social Darwinist, crowding our pots and beds like a lifeboat, confident that the fittest will survive. I managed a brittle smile when she brought home two cherry tomato plants, though I wondered where we’d put them.
They have a home now in some big pots on the patio, happy castaways on its small island of sun. For many years, the only strong sun was in our front yard, but that changed as our sycamores slowly spread their wings across our nest. Then a storm took out our back patio elm, and its shade departed.
To claim our new windfall of sun, my wife assigned me to move a huge concrete planter of herbs from front to back. I thought of the ancient laborers who perished while putting the pyramids into place, but my pharao.