How hot was it?

It was so hot in Toronto in summer 2018 that this blogger once had to seek urgent cooling shelter in Fairview Mall, a place full of fashion shops in which I was too scared to set foot. But I did find a little variety store that sold me a diet coke.

Over at my mom’s tiny guerilla garden near Rosedale Subway, the multi-coloured zinnias, sturdy geraniums, red-blooming creepers and other plants added by a good Samaritan were coming into rich colour and profusion. My mom’s original batch of pansies in and around the hollow cedar log were still going strong, as she continued to pick off old blooms each day and keep them well watered.

Her garden blooms were peaking but the sun was beating down in “the Six,” with daily highs hitting 35 degrees. Extreme climactic events were in the news around the world. Shade was a precious commodity.

Praying for rain

To keep the tiny garden watered, my mom sometimes made three trips daily with her little apple juice containers filled with water. She prayed daily for rain.

Over at Pape and Cosburn, I was making furtive early morning trips on my red beater bike, wobbling along with a full watering can in the old basket, to keep my tiny garden hydrated — and to get home before I broke into a full-body sweat.

While I was out of town, many good-Samaritan friends volunteered to come by to water the little mixed planter of red and white geraniums.

Delivering hydration and TLC

My friend Reshmi texted to advise that the tiny garden got a bit droopy in the intense heat but was hanging in there. Her son came by to water it. My sister Louise dispatched her husband D’Arcy to deliver additional hydration. My garden friend Ann parked nearby to check on the garden and give it some water and TLC.

My tiny garden survived. Slowly the evenings grew longer, with a heavier dew overnight. I trimmed off dry deadheads, and removed a McDonald’s coffee cup and broken cigarette lighter from the planter. The geranium buds began to re-appear.

Fall sometimes feels like the end of this year’s garden; in fact, it’s the start of a second gardening season following dormancy triggered by the superheated summer.

As September Labour Day approached, our buds were swelling. The plants were greening up.

It was a tiny garden renaissance.