The dog days of summer have come and gone, leaving
scorched earth and plants in their wake. September usually beguiles and tempts
us with the promise of longer, cooler nights and more temperate daytime
temperatures—however near-record highs that month made a mockery of Mother
Nature’s normal covenant. Exhausted gardeners beat a hasty retreat as the
inevitable storms of October made their way onshore, deluging and drenching our
gardens with refreshing rain. Trees, shrubs and perennials bowed down in
obeisance to the winds of autumn, ready to enter the season of dormancy,
rejuvenation and quiet.
With the onset of fall, Northwest gardeners engage in the
time-honored, traditional and ritualistic tasks necessary to put the garden to
bed for the winter. Deciduous trees and shrubs celebrate the season with a
cacophony of color, a last gasp, as the mechanism for chlorophyll production goes
on hiatus. Falling leaves gently descend and settle, coccooning lawn and garden
in a mantle of scarlet, russet, biscuit, gold and fawn. The non-gardening, male
spousal unit or life partner eventually appears—rake in hand—to disturb the
autumnal blanket gathering up the sacrificial offerings and adding them to the
compost pile or hauling them away.
Some perennials die gracefully, shedding foliage
while
offering ripening seedheads to hungry birds. Others stand seemingly tall,
surprising us when they finally slump and fall over after the first frost,
transformed overnight into a blackened, slimy mess. Many perennials can be cut
back now. It is best not to adopt a slash and burn mentality but assesses the
possible winter attributes of each plant. The fading blades of ornamental
grasses tremble in the breeze ready to dance until it is time to cut them down
in late winter. As nature pares the garden back the full import and impact of
broadleaved and needled evergreen shrubs and trees are revealed as the garden
sheds its fluffy finery assuming a spare grace and elegance.
As autumn slowly lifts
the veil of foliage and flower
from the garden it is again time to assess and review our successes and
failures. Now is the time to edit the garden, moving or saying a fond farewell
to plants that didn’t thrive, outgrew their locations, clashed with their
neighbors, ended up being invasive or that you just didn’t like. This annual
garden review can be traumatic. Feelings of disappointment, guilt and
anticipation course through me simultaneously as I walk, look and plan. We are
so beguiled by the lure of instant gratification that we forget that refining
the garden is a patient process, one that at the end of each seasonal display
honors the spirit and intent of the gardener.
Your gardening peers and muses have made
multitudinous
mistakes, based on inexperience, stupidity, excitement, plant lust and the
willingness to experiment. From their collective input questions emerge that we
can use to help us review our gardens. Have you planted a third of your garden
with needled and broadleaved evergreens—plants whose structural presence
anchors the garden year-round? Those of us who succumb to the lure of too many
perennials end up with voids and gardens without good bones. Is the garden
intriguing and interesting on a seasonal basis? Is the garden resplendent with
a rainbow of colors displayed by sinuous or exfoliating bark, jewel toned
berries, fabulous foliage, and fleeting flowers? Gardens are by virtue and
design, sensual on many levels—is yours? Is a stroll through the garden
interrupted by whiffs of remembered fragrances? Are both the gardener and
visitor enticed to linger in small, discreet places tucked into the overall
fabric of the garden?
Filtering how we see the garden through the lens that is
autumn sets our course for spring. Insights gleaned from the forgotten season
are the plans for the garden to come.
