The Uncertainty of The October Garden
“Then summer fades and passes and October comes. We’ll smell smoke then, and feel an unexpected sharpness, a thrill of nervousness, swift elation, a sense of sadness and departure.”
The melancholy days of autumn for a gardener are the harbinger of what is to come. We all dread the long winter months - the non-gardening weeks that can seem endless - even though we all know that our plants are merely resting and will be revitalized shortly, and will come back to life bigger and brighter than ever - after only a brief slumber. All just a part of the cycle of a garden, and all necessary and important; completely out of our control. But knowing this still does not always help. As gardeners, we feel the sadness of the shortening days of autumn too strongly because we know what is coming next. And even if we too - the ones who tend the soil - realize that we may also need a bit of a rest come this time of the year - just like our plants do - we fight those sleepy feelings and crave the garden work and chores all that much more, knowing that it will be ending all too soon.
My garden was looking especially nice this past summer. I am not bragging - it was just the plants and flowers doing their thing - but boy, did they do it well! It really was a terrific season in the garden - lots of blooms and pretty flowers and everything generally behaving and acting accordingly (the weeds in my gravel pathway were quite a different story, but the flowers were outstanding!). So no complaints for the season that was - but as we enter the fall - now October - I am left to look around and quietly wonder and question?
Faded stalks of summer blooming liatris stand tall amongst the still blooming ‘Millenium” allium in October
The garden is always a changing, fleeting, never-lasting-as-long-as-we-wish, entity. As much as we desire to control it, and do so lovingly by tending to it as best we can, nature itself still has the final word. And the changing of seasons is just an exclamation point that shows us how little we really do command. That still does not make me feel good when I find myself staring at a once exuberant garden and seeing browning, crisping, dying plants. Somehow I always think that I did not plan well enough - perhaps if I chose other plants the garden would look better, or would have more things in bloom? And while there is a certain truth to this, as garden planning and correct and varied planting choices are all very important, there is also a time in the garden when even the best plans tend to fade away; it is just that time of the year. But still I look around and feel a particular disillusionment that I know is unjustified.
In the fall, the back garden becomes a mixture of plants that are both still in bloom, and those which have become less than ‘summertime perfect’
Which still leaves me with a less than perfect garden that makes me question not only my garden design and choice of plants, but my ability as a gardener in general. And maybe that is just me and not you, but I seem to go through this every year come October, when the garden begins to straddle the seasons. There is always a bit of a ‘come back’ in September when some of the worn out summer flowers spring back to life once the temperatures start to cool down and there is not so much demanded from them; they get a second opportunity and shine briefly. Which lulls me into thinking that everything is okay. And it makes me want to just go outside and garden. But then October arrives and those same plants are saying goodbye, as are many of the perennials; the leaves on various shrubs and trees are beginning to change as well, dropping here and there, altering the light in the garden - a sure sign that summer has passed.
I know that I am a good gardener. I know that I have chosen my plants well. I know that I also do make mistakes, but that mistakes can be corrected (buying more plants!). And truthfully, the garden looks pretty good. I do not know why sometimes I feel that it does not. Perhaps you have struggled with this feeling yourself? I do know that as gardeners, we tend to always expect better and more, and we may judge ourselves too harshly in that pursuit. How many times have we all, even in June when the garden is absolutely gorgeous, apologized for it not looking its best, or for something not being in bloom? The thing that I have to learn is that nothing is ever truly ‘perfect’ - certainly no garden - but that the best kind of garden is simply one that is tended to and loved. Perhaps the fading blooms and drying leaves will not make me feel so anxious tomorrow?
Until next time…
