Summer in the Apothecary Garden: Wins, Experiments & Wild Surprises

This summer in the apothecary garden has been one of our busiest yet, full of experiments, surprises, and a few lessons learned the funny way. We started the season with big hopes and even bigger curiosity, and the garden responded with its own personality, sometimes gentle and sometimes absolutely chaotic. The biggest surprise came from the passionflower. We planted it with excitement, imagining delicate blooms and a little shade over the fence. What we didn’t imagine was how enthusiastically it would claim the space. It took off like a wild creature, climbing and stretching until it wasn’t just in our yard anymore—it politely wandered into the neighbor’s yard too, as if introducing itself and asking where else it might like to explore. It’s beautiful, magical, and medicinal, but it definitely taught us that some vines need a bit more respect than we gave them.

Not all experiments were quite so dramatic. One of the biggest wins this season was the mint. Most garden advice warns against planting mint in the ground, especially in the desert, but I had a theory. I wanted mint that could survive July, even while we were away on vacation. I wanted a patch that could become a true apothecary staple instead of a fragile spring fling. So I ignored the warnings and planted it directly into the soil. And it worked. Not only did it survive the brutal heat—it thrived. We came home from vacation to fresh, fragrant spearmint and catmint waiting to be harvested, a little oasis of green in the middle of July. That experiment felt like a genuine victory.

We also finally started planting the tulsi rows, something I’ve been wanting to do for months. There’s a grounding energy that comes with adding tulsi to the garden, a sense of calm and lineage that settles into the space as soon as the first leaves unfurl. And after installing the new watering system—a project that felt like its own season—we decided to redo the entire border of the garden. Cardboard, layers, mulch, the whole weed‑suppression rebuild. It wasn’t glamorous work, but it felt good, like strengthening the bones of the garden so everything else could flourish.

It’s been a season of movement and learning, of plants teaching us their preferences and personalities. Passionflower taught us humility. Mint taught us to trust our instincts. Tulsi taught us patience. And the watering system taught us perseverance. We’ve been busy, and the garden has grown right alongside us, evolving into something more resilient, more abundant, and more alive with every passing week.