I’ve started decorating the house for Halloween.
I’ve just been spending days outdoors in the fine autumn sunshine. I come inside to sleep but the cobwebs are hard to see at night and really I don’t look too carefully…
So, I’ve been out among the plants, eyeing them, thinking of what to do next. Fortunately I don’t have to start from emptiness, in which case I fear that nothing would come of nothing, just like Lear said. A new place with empty gardens would be difficult, and maybe unromantic–and one could hardly hope for a ghost on the stairs or even any cobwebs probably…
But some people can do Garden Planning. They can be holding maybe a cup of coffee in one hand and sketch out a successful new garden plan with the other while indoors sitting at a desk. This is an awesome skill, and I don’t have it.
I do of course use my own patented design system which I will share here with you if you promise not to tell. It is organic, or possibly Darwinian. And impulsive. Or a bit wacko.
I walk around outside and look. I am inspired or sometimes surprised and I find stuff.
Lately I saw that the peripheries of the garden beds on the east side have not been edged for two summers. (I’m not sure whose fault this is. Tillie’s maybe.) But it’s fall, and the ground is dry because I let the “lawn” perish this year in favor of thorough watering of beds from our limited well.
So it’s a dumb time to edge beds maybe, but I began to wonder if I could do it. I noticed that the terrier was digging, and I think I saw him watching me watching. Anyway I tried the shovel and found that the sod removed doesn’t weigh much when its not saturated with rain. And, as long as I was at it, wouldn’t it be nice to have these beds be a little wider than they’ve been in the past? [garden design happening here] “Why yes,” the dog agreed–but then he is always pro-dig.
Lots of clods of dry clay result.
We use our special Curve Control Tool (resembles a garden hose) to plan the shape.
Max is Quality Control.
I dig a little deeper into the resulting sod-less dry ground, then work in loads of compost.
As I prepare this new bit of space, I wonder what would look and do well there. Is there some plant, doing poorly in some other exposure and wishing to relocate? I walk around again, looking for anything that might like the new morning-sun location.
Things found: tiarella needing more light and water, dry hostas hidden behind ferns, meadowsweet crowded by trees, heuchera needing division, perennial fuchsia rescued from under house eave (drought area), native alumroot totally hidden behind red currant, maidenhair ferns suffering from maple tree root invasion…See how this happens? So I moved some stuff, and also bought a few new things at nurseries.
You probably can’t tell a bit from this image, but there are lots of changes which will be so entertaining to watch mature in spring.
But now we’re tired, and wish the inevitable endless rain would return so we could could stay inside and read and write –and rest up at least a little bit before the garlic needs planting.