Listen! The wind is rising and the air is wild with leaves. We have had our summer evenings, now for October eves!
-humbert wolfe
I'm not sure how or why it happened, but somewhere, somehow, I lost the connection to my garden this summer. It wasn't just the physical connection, more so the emotional connection. Nature threw some tough curves with the drought and the heat, so I could blame it on unforseen and uncontrollable forces at work against me, but that seems like a bit of a cop out. I just couldn't care any more.
The gardening year went by, and I mostly cowered in the house on those 100 plus days. I often gazed out the windows, hoping to fell an urge to go outside and DO something. I tried at first to keep up with watering by hand, but soon gave that up. I felt guilty at first, then overwhelmed , and finally just resigned to the situation.
But Autumn brings with it another chance, a newly formed hope fueled by the refreshing cooler temperatures and welcome soaking rains. The color green returned, and a walkabout on a cool September morning revealed some astonishing discoveries, some good, some not so much.
BEFORE PICTURE - The front of the perennial bed has been invaded and mostly taken over by a crop of invasive sea oats that has infiltrated the roses and peonies. The situation struck me as hopeless at first as I considered the prospect of digging all the peonies up, removing the grass and then replanting the peonies. And all this has to be accomplished in one short week as peonies can only be transplanted in the fall.
AFTER PICTURE - Then I began the job of cutting everything down so I could see the situation more clearly, and decided I might just be able to leave the peonies and rid the soil of the invading grass all around them, its worth a try after all. Things are looking up . . . .
Filled with a new energy, I began to see even more positive places, and in the short space of one day I actually began to feel the old enthusiasm return. The basil, marjoram and parsley in the little garden were still thriving.
The Nasturtiums never looked happier
The Anemones were luxurious
The Hydrangea were handsome in all their fall finery
The Asters were rosy and glowing
The Perennial Ageratum were resplendent in blue
Good news and good feelings returned as mysteriously as they had disappeared, and the changing season brought with it a new optimism. It felt good. One of the best lessons of the garden returned to me, the promise of another year is always present.