A weird fungus wiped out my dill and destroyed a significant part of my tomato crop, squash bugs munched the devil out of my patty pans and crook-necked squashes, the deer grazed on the tender tops of my beans, and those lovely, shiny Japanese beetles made latticework out of anything green.

These challenges, along with long stretches of dry weather, followed by equally long stretches of wet, were a hassle, but despite it all, my pantry is beginning to be lined with rows upon rows of neatly labeled jars of vegetables for winter and spring meals.

Another pantry contains stacks of colorful jams and jellies, all made from locally grown fruits, of course. And soon, the winter squash and pumpkins will be stored under a bed in an upstairs, unheated bedroom, and the potato crop, which was very prolific this year, will be carefully wrapped in newspapers and placed in old farm baskets in an unheated hallway.

Each growing season brings its problems and pleasures, as every gardener knows.

This year, as is the case every year, I have two “jungles” growing in my garden. When I planted the corn and pumpkins in the spring, I alternated seeds. When young, they looked very neat, but now, in the fullness of the growing season, pumpkin vines are toppling corn stalks, and small and not-so-small pumpkins appear to be growing from the corn.

But that’s OK. All produce well and provide us with plenty of corn and decorative pumpkins for the glorious fall season.

The second “jungle” was quite unexpected. Although tomatoes and potatoes, which are closely related, aren’t supposed to grown near each other, I apparently missed harvesting some potatoes last fall, and this summer, they appeared in the midst of some of my 36 plum, grape and regular tomato plants.

I didn’t have the heart to pull them up, so on they grew, giving us another unexpected source of potatoes for the year, and not bothering the tomatoes at all.

The sunflowers, in autumn, lemon and traditional colors, and in all heights, wave in the wind, making my heart jump with delight whenever a new blossom appears. This year, I planted a huge variety of sunflowers, not only in the garden but also in the small flower gardens around the house, and they, too, are all in full bloom.

The growing season from mid-May to mid-October, when I do the final harvest, is the most joyful time of my year. Despite the bugs, fungus, animals and our golden retriever, who has learned that tasty sweet corn is available for the picking as he sneaks into the garden, growing something from our rocky New England soil brings me back to my ancestors who relied on their gardens for sustenance throughout the year. Each morning, I check to see what has sprouted or grown larger, what needs tender loving care, what will do well all by itself. I truly feel closer to nature and God as I grow my garden.

And canning the fruits of my labor, and seeing those neat rows of tomatoes, beets, beans, pasta sauce, jellies and jams growing by the day makes my heart leap for joy.

The satisfaction also connects me with my mother, who did the same, and shows me that I am carrying on a time-honored tradition started by the tough Yankees who were so self-reliant.

Now, it’s off to the Farmington Fair with the best I have grown or canned. It’s not for the possible cash or ribbons, but to wrap up yet another growing season. It’s the perfect way to close our all too short summer, and to gear up for fall and winter.

I love my garden.