Saint Bernard Tolomeo: Patron Saint of Patient Gardeners

August 21st every year...

My darling garden companions, today is St. Bernard Tolomeo's Day, the Patron Saint of Olive Growers.

What a delicious coincidence for us dirt-under-the-fingernails types!

This Tuscan treasure was born in 1272, and his story blooms with the most fascinating twist of fate.

Our dear Bernard was destined for the dusty halls of law, can you imagine?

But life, as it so often does in our gardens, had other plans entirely. After losing his sight to illness, he struck that most desperate of bargains with the divine - his eyesight for devotion.

When his vision returned, true to his word, this remarkable man abandoned his legal pursuits and turned toward the church. He selected the name Bernard after the habit of Clairvaux - whom we whispered about just yesterday, my faithful perennial friends - that beloved patron saint of bees and beekeepers.

Bernard's connection to olives, those silvery-leaved beauties that grace so many Mediterranean gardens, came through his residence at the Abbey of St. Mary of Olivet. This glorious place, surrounded by the quiet dignity of olive groves, eventually became known as Mount Olivet.

How perfectly poetic, don't you agree?

Now, my dear she-shed besties, let me share some utterly captivating tidbits about olives that might surprise even the most seasoned among you!

Olives are not vegetables at all, but fruits! A revelation that might cause a scandal in certain horticultural circles.

The patience required of an olive farmer would make even the most dedicated gardener weak at the knees - the first harvest doesn't arrive until after 15 years of growth. The next time you're feeling impatient about your spring bulbs, remember the steadfast olive.

These remarkable trees belong to the evergreen family, and some are among the oldest living plants on our precious earth.

Can you imagine the stories their roots could tell?

On the enchanting island of Crete stands an olive tree estimated to be approximately 4,000 years old - and yet, like the most determined of garden matriarchs, it continues to bear fruit! What a testament to nature's persistence.

And finally, my fellow flower-lovers, much like those flirtatious tomatoes and peppers in your kitchen gardens, the olive's color transforms with maturity - from a youthful green to the most sophisticated dark purple and black as it ripens. Isn't nature's color palette simply divine?

So today, as you tend to your plots and pots, spare a thought for Bernard Tolomeo and his beloved olives.

Perhaps their patience and longevity might inspire us all to take the longer view in our gardens and in our lives.