Waking up the garden
By mid- to late-February I’m ready to get back into the gardens. The dark and cold have weighed on me enough that I could use the invigoration that comes with the first signs of spring. I’m also impatient enough from being stuck inside due to snow (or rain) that I’m ready for some activity. When this time of year comes around, we can start to see indications of what is to come. More so this year. It’s been a warm (albeit dark and rainy) winter, so the initial indicators of spring are early. The crocuses, daffodils, and even the day lilies are starting to come up, the lemon balm is showing new growth, and the magnolias have plump buds on their branches.
The ground is either still too wet or too frozen to do much, but I find ways to get active. I walk the property with an empty feed bag, picking up trash and detritus that scattered throughout the yard over the last few months. I take stock of trees that need pruned or removed. I note hardscaping that needs repaired or replaced. The vegetable garden takes shape in my mind’s eye. (We are converting to raised beds this year. I start ticking off the supplies I’ll need to build them.) I stop by the cold frame with a basket and some shears—the winter months resulted in a nice harvest of collard greens and spinach. (The spinach is nicer than anything I grew last spring and summer.) The collards will go nicely with a ham bone I have in the freezer. Maybe I’ll bake a batch of cornbread…
The flower beds and perennial borders are still covered in the dried stems and dead leaves from last season. When fall comes I can never bring myself to cut everything herbaceous to the ground and clear it away, per the garden literature. The last gasps of bloom and color bring me joy as fall turns into winter, and I adore how the desiccated stalks and flower heads support the snow in the winter. By February, however, it’s all just a limp soggy mess. In a month or so, on one of those rare early spring days when the ground is relatively dry, I’ll take a rake to the beds and haul away the dead matter—revealing new growth coming up from underneath. Last season’s remnants will find their way to the compost bin and make their contribution to future fertility. In the meantime, I spread wood ash from the fireplace under some hydrangeas and forsythia that were reluctant to flower last season, hoping the potassium in the ashes will encourage them to bloom this year.
The next few weeks will be bittersweet. Invariably, those warm dry days that would be perfect for working in the garden will be those days that I have to go to my “day job.” Conversely, the weekends will be cold and damp. With luck, however, I will have several blissful morning walking through the garden with my coffee and taking stock of how spring slowly is revealing herself.