Beneath the Soil
For several months now I have been reminded that it is time to start saying goodbye to the gardening year. Green tomatoes have been picked, perennials trimmed back and leaves are falling. When the spring blooming plants finish, we still have summer and all the wild growth and flowering to come. But in autumn, as we wind down, the goodbyes feel a bit solemn- winter is coming and for a few months the world will be less alive. Every year at this time I wonder how I will pass these winter days.
This year we’ve had the opportunity to get to know a large grasshopper in our rooftop garden. He, we call him John, was identifiable by the fact that he is large, one legged and appears to be unafraid of us. All summer long, and into fall, we would find him methodically working his way through a sprig of parsley or a leaf of lettuce or sometimes just sitting on a flower. Occasionally he would hop/fly over to where I was sitting and land on me. I obviously started to wonder about whether grasshoppers have a way of living through the winter like some other insects. Apparently, grasshoppers survive the winter “as eggs in the ground”. I think that means that they die but they have left eggs that will hatch in the spring. Though I know I shouldn’t be sad about the natural order of things, I do feel sadness- I also have had to fight the urge to create a terrarium inside for John. So instead I am going into winter thinking about all the precious eggs hidden in the soil.
Besides the future generations of insects, there are other important things lurking beneath the soil as the above ground parts die back. Bulbs from previous years, not seen since June, are lying quietly in wait for their cold dormancy so they can pop back up and bloom again. Sometimes at this time of year I gaze over my brown beds and try to visualize all the hundreds of sleeping bulbs in there. Luckily, it isn’t too late to put more in now as long as the ground hasn’t frozen- I have a box of 200 that will go in any day. Planting bulbs is different than planting other plants because you really do just bury them like treasure. Months go by before you have even a glimpse of life. There is a special type of joy, a hopefulness, that comes from the waiting.
As it gets colder, but before it is fully winter, it is also good to think about watering the evergreens. We often don’t think about our plants’ need for water when it isn’t hot out. Evergreens lose water through their leaves or needles all winter so going into winter fully hydrated is important. I like to use a sprinkler to really reach the full network of roots that extend in all directions from the plants.
So there are still a few tasks to do in the garden and there are ways to meditate on what’s below the soil in these last days of the year. And as the leaves completely fall and the bare branches open our view of the sky, there is a beautiful new wintery landscape ahead of us for the months to come. And then I will go find and welcome our baby grasshoppers as the green world reemerges.
The evergreens have also emerged from hiding amongst the summer growth. And that green has much value now that so much has gone dormant. Even the dull sheen off an American holly leaf and the off-color green of Virginia junipers are a gift of color in winter. And then there are the gems of winter- the magnolias-bright and statuesque, the lovely pines, and rhododendrons with their fat buds, all teeming with birds who like their shelter. This shift into winter is calming and it is easy to just sit and look.
I try not to think about the bulbs lying in the soil waiting for spring. Or the thousands of buds that line the branches of all the shrubs and trees and which will easily wait out all the cold and snow. There will be time enough to get impatient for spring. Right now we have the sky to enjoy, and also the clouds. And each year I have the feeling anew that I need to remember that this beautiful sky is always there behind the leaves. And in the same way, the ghosts of all my flowers are here too even when their blossoms are no longer seen. There is a richness to letting memories have real physical space in one’s life and I’ll let the vast blue sky be a reminder of that.
Leave the Leaves
Late fall brings one of the greatest quandaries to thoughtful gardeners - to rake or not to rake. In nature the process is so wholesome and simple. The leaves fall to the ground, act as mulch to the plants and protection to smaller critters and then begin to decompose and enrich the soil. It is not so simple in the garden.
For years I followed the good practice of completely clearing out the garden in fall much the same way that one cleans up after a dinner party- just get the job all done so that you have a clean slate to begin with in the spring. I hauled away leaves, cut most of the perennials down and then applied mulch. It is a lot easier to remove the leaves in the fall when most of the perennials and all of the bulbs are dormant and there is some value in getting any diseased leaves out. And on another practical level, our leaves are picked up by the city in late fall and not in spring.
But the fact remains that it is healthier for the garden and the greater ecosystem to follow the example of the woods. Many insects rely on leaf litter to survive the winter. These include important plant pollinators and also caterpillars that are important sources of food for many birds. I do put out bird feeders but certain types of birds prefer to kick around under the shrubs all winter looking for insects. The seeds heads on many plants, on grasses and coneflowers to name a few, are a welcome feast to seed-eating birds and small rodents on a cold winter day.
So finding the balance between the wild woods and a tidy looking garden has become my challenge. I still do remove most of the leaves from areas with a lot of bulbs. In these areas I put down pine-bark mulch that will stay for most of the next year. I let the leaves stay under and behind bushes and at the backs of the beds and there are a few areas where smaller leaves, like the Amelanchier, are fine curled up on the ground. I run the mower over that last of the leaves on the lawn to add a little organic matter there. In the flower beds, I similarly choose where I will make things tidy and where I will create a little habitat for the creatures. The beds along the front sidewalk are made tidy but the butterfly garden on the side of the house is left alone until mid spring. The areas with vegetables are completely cleared and cleaned because there are so many diseases that can carry over to the next year. Basically, I pick and choose the areas that can be left untouched throughout the garden to try to establish a balance- in the end far more than 50% keeps the fallen leaves.
I can’t say that I know why any individual living creature is important yet I know that every one is. And when I see a Ruby-crowned kinglet flitting around in my juniper and finding much needed food in the middle of winter, a squirrel nibbling on a piece of fungus that has grown on our dying maple or even a Cooper’s hawk swooping down to grab a dove, I know that my garden is working a bit like the woods.
