Down to Earth

Inspired by evidence of life in the garden

By Kristin Green
Posted 6/9/16

Whenever friends ask me about my garden I tend to respond with deprecation and complaint. I might say it’s dry as a bone (despite the rain); there are more weeds the size of semis with taproots …

This item is available in full to subscribers.

Please log in to continue

Log in

Register to post events


If you'd like to post an event to our calendar, you can create a free account by clicking here.

Note that free accounts do not have access to our subscriber-only content.

Day pass subscribers

Are you a day pass subscriber who needs to log in? Click here to continue.


Down to Earth

Inspired by evidence of life in the garden

Posted

Whenever friends ask me about my garden I tend to respond with deprecation and complaint. I might say it’s dry as a bone (despite the rain); there are more weeds the size of semis with taproots to China than there are plants almost; I’ve never seen so many spittlebugs and aphids; my hydrangeas look like bundles of kindling; I have full flats of annuals that might die of six-pack stress—and have already—before I get them in the ground. And so on.

My intention in reporting my garden’s ugly side, miseries, and failings is, I’m sure, to commiserate with fellow gardeners. The days aren’t long enough for any of us, whether we’re employed full time, parentally involved, and/or busily retired, to chase weeds, get everything in the ground as soon as it comes home from the nursery, and start, let alone finish, the mulching. We’re all in the same boat.

And we learn so much by spilling our woes. I’m not the only one who has seen an aphid and spittle bug population boom so it must be a banner year. These things go in cycles. But I have also seen a lot of lady bugs in the garden. Their larvae, along with syrphid flies’ and lacewings’ feast on aphids. I refuse to spray or even knock aphids off because those predators may have already been deposited eggs in their midst. I expect nature to help tip the balance back to normal levels. Spittlebugs, until they mature and become spider-, mantis-, and bird-food, are too well protected by their froth now. They get a blast from the hose. Not that it slows them down at all.

It only takes a glance around the neighborhood to see that my twiggy hydrangeas are in good company, and all have healthy tufts of new growth at the base. It’s easy enough to tell by now which stems are living. The rest can be cut down to healthy green leaves or the ground. The new growth will fill right in, and any that bloom on new wood won’t disappoint.

Of course, to point out these wonky details to non-gardening friends is to fish for compliments. I’m all for those but would rather they be freely showered. I no longer apologize to drop-in guests when there are dirty dishes in the sink; why point out every colony of mugwort and splatter of chickweed when the iris and peonies are in bloom? With fellow gardeners, it’s imperative to share instances of our successes and crow over our gardens’ sublime beauty as it is to complain. How else do we inspire each other?

I am over the moon to see evidence of life in my garden and in the cutting garden I have planted this year at Mount Hope Farm. Seeds I sowed here at home over the winter like breadseed poppy (Papaver somniferum) and love-in-a-mist (Nigella damascena) are up and at ‘em, and lacy phacelia (Phacelia tanacetifolia) is already in bloom. The bupleurum, bachelor buttons (Centaurea cyanus), and baby’s breath (Gypsophila elegans) I sowed in early spring, as soon beds were prepared at Mount Hope Farm, have become easily distinguishable from weed seedlings (since evicted). Zinnias, cosmos, and sunflowers germinated within the three days of heat and rain over Memorial Day weekend. There’s nothing more gratifying than seeing a tidy row of cotyledons pop up almost overnight, not that I can claim any credit for plants responding to seasonal cues.

Peonies are pretty great too and as reliable as clockwork. Once planted in full sun (to exactly the right depth, thank you) and established, they will bloom every June for generations with little input and attention. Rather than hooping them (it’s too late now anyway), I’ll pick the top-heaviest, ground-grazing persimmon-scented flowers to enjoy inside.

I know I’m not alone in the peony and sow-gratified department if my Facebook feed, email inbox, and iMessage app are anything to go by. Pictures and reports from friends’ gardens have been glorious. As much as I enjoy and learn from kvetches over worries and disappointments, I’d much rather hear about and be inspired by the triumphs.

Kristin Green is the horticulturist at Mount Hope Farm and author of 'Plantiful: Start Small, Grow Big with 150 Plants that Spread, Self-Sow, and Overwinter'. Follow her blog at trenchmanicure.com.

2024 by East Bay Media Group

Barrington · Bristol · East Providence · Little Compton · Portsmouth · Tiverton · Warren · Westport
Meet our staff
MIKE REGO

Mike Rego has worked at East Bay Newspapers since 2001, helping the company launch The Westport Shorelines. He soon after became a Sports Editor, spending the next 10-plus years in that role before taking over as editor of The East Providence Post in February of 2012. To contact Mike about The Post or to submit information, suggest story ideas or photo opportunities, etc. in East Providence, email mrego@eastbaymediagroup.com.