What Will Happen To The Garden?

We are still spending way to much time in what if mode. Some might call it idle mind syndrome, imagining disasters where there are none, yet. It has been called The Voice Of Doom by family members. Worrying about things that needn’t be and taking steps to smooth the bumbs in the imaginary road. But planning is in our genetic makeup. Conjuring different scenarios and the results of actions taken or not taken is pleasurable and might prove constructive. The previous post took up the subject of what might happen to the blog when something has happened to the blogger. To read about that topic click here-What Will Happen To The Blog?. Now let’s think about the garden. There are some ideas swirling, whirring, churning, being seriously contemplated about design and maintenance issues in the back and front yards. (The above shot is the current state of the flat garden, no attempt to clean up even as new growth is showing on Karl F.)

Thought number one: what if the old dried up brown, tan and black growth from last year is not cut off neatly and composted, like is normally done. What if those Hellebore leaves are left, the Japanese painted ferns dried up spore laden fronds are forgotten, the tall Karl F. stalks are left standing? Will it be horrible? Will there be deaths? Will it cause blindness because it is so awful? Or will the new growth rise and cover the mess, as it does in the wild, as nature intended? Actually I have seen this idea of doing nothing in action, or should it be said inaction, in the garden of offspring Semi. It has been a few years now since she, or I cut anything down in her back garden. Her work load both in the house and at the paying job, combined with caring for a rambunctious four year old leave her no time or energy for garden pursuits. And the desire to get out there seems to have petered out. I used to get out there, but also lack the energy or drive, especially if she does not seem interested. (Reading back over this, it does sound like a whine about Semi’s loss of gardening interest, shame on me.) I can barely get the work done here at the Fairegarden, and it gets more physically challenging with each passing year, hence this ramble about doing nothing. What has happened at the Semi garden is the taking over by a couple of aggressive natives, grasses and asters mostly into the shrubs and hardy perennials we planted there together. The amazing outcome is that it looks pretty good. Vitex, dappled willows, roses, sedums, penstemons, hydrangeas and more give structure and color while the many grasses fill in the gaps. Bulbs bloom right on schedule that were planted years ago. Could that Semi-Piet method work here, one wonders? Do I have the nerve, make that self discipline to keep from tidying up and give it a try? Can I not cut the old Hellebore foliage? It is looking very ratty tatty at the moment, with new fresh growth showing lighter green as the keys are being typed. This is a job that seems so important, two posts were even written about it, here-Cutting Of The Hellebores and here-Cutting The Hellebores-2009 Edition. Like everything else, what would happen if it didn’t get cut? This might be a good time to carry out this experiment, cut some, don’t cut most, and compare. (The above shot is from March of 2009, with old foliage removed.)

Onward. Onward was our word chosen on New Year’s Eve as the lighted ball descended in Time’s Square, at the dawn of a new decade, on television to be our mantra. Others celebrating with us chose the words golf, connect and change. You might guess who said golf. Anyway, onward we go to the next big idea, a total redesign. If there is to be minimal maintenance, the plantings should probably be adjusted. Not just adjusted, total redo, with everything pulled out and the replanting to be done according to a plan on paper. Large swaths of one type of plant flowing into more swaths of well thought out choices, like in the magazines showing professionally installed gardens, is the vision. Like the Piet Oudolf designed Lurie in Chicago, above. Think big! Can we do this? Can the plant collector who buys one of everything and wants to grow everything in the world, design be flipped, make this cosmic shift? Not only could we, but should we? Looking, really looking at the wild areas here in southeast Tennessee, and there are many of them for this is a sparsely populated part of the US with many untended acreages and normally good rainfall, has shown us beautiful landscapes untouched by human design. The mix of trees, shrubs, perennials, annuals and grasses is breathtaking, especially in fall when the grasses take center stage. It would all return to forest eventually, for the trees will grow to shade out the others, but even that is beautiful. Our imprint is so temporary, nature will always prevail. Evidence: seedlings growing in the cracks of concrete, causing ever greater cracks with the power of tiny roots. Vines growing on porches, sending roots into the wood and bringing the whole structure down with time. (The above shot was taken at the Lurie, during the Chicago garden bloggers meet up.)

Next up, slightly less ambitious in scope, is the rethinking of the purpose of the veggie bed. With the newly opened farmer’s market nearby, the decision not to plant things available for sale at very reasonable prices at that market has already been made. So what to do with the narrow strip of enhanced soil with the block wall raised bed installed between the fifty foot long Chamaecyparis hedge and the Arborvitae hedge? Gold and Red raspberries will remain, for they are perennial and have produced well. A small fig tree at one end will be coddled and may one day give a fig. Strawberries have overtaken every square inch, spilling over the wall and growing into the landscape fabric that lines the paths below and above the planting bed. Those will be pulled, for nary a berry, maybe one, was eaten by humans last year. Rabbits made out like the bandits they are. What should be planted there? More food crops but on a lesser scale? More security measures to protect the food? Ornamentals? Should it be a holding nursery for baby plants until they are strong enough to be cast out into the wilderness to be?
As to what will happen to the garden after we are gone, whether we move or just turn back into the dust from whence we came, well, we already know how to handle that one. Every house we have owned, and even those just rented have had gardening done in them by the Fairegardener. At some of these houses, a few plantings, trees and shrubs mostly were left in place and have grown to maturity. Some were not a good idea and grew too large, they must be pruned continuously, to my humiliation. One garden, in California was completely bulldozed and lawn planted in its place. Another garden is a shrine, totally unchanged. There was some bittersweet vine that was stuck in the ground at either side of the front door as Christmas decor there and it rooted, probably done in 1989. It is still growing there, framing the door. I know they have to be pruning it constantly to keep it from eating the entire two story house, but it remains, neat and tidy as the day it was stuck, er planted. Did I worry about the plantings when the houses were sold? Not a bit, they are no longer mine to consider. I did dig up what I wanted to take with me and have those things planted and growing in my current garden. If I move to another, some will make that move as well. If I don’t move, but rather leave the earth altogether, maybe someone will scatter my ashes in the garden. I used to want my ashes placed in the hole of a newly planted Oak tree, properly sited so that it could grow tall and wide without being pruned because it was too close to something like power lines or a building. Now I would settle for the scattering on the beds, so I could live among the flowers and feed them. (No tears now my children, for this is merely a blog post about ideas. There is no hidden message of terminal illness, that I am aware of anyway. The moment you are born, you begin to die.) As for the gardens themselves, they would be the property of whomever held the house, whether family or new owners, to do with as they wished. I would hope there will not be the need for constant pruning of things wrongly chosen or placed is all.
That is enough for one story. So many questions without clear answers remain in the miasma membranes that are topped with hair colors yet to be determined. Back to Cinnaberry? Let it go completely natural? Shave the whole thing? No to the last one, we have done that before and it is way too cold now, we would have to sleep in a toboggan. How about some Cinnaberry streaking? Long, short, layered? Where is the normal impulsive decision making of the past? Should an appointment be made with a hair dresser, or should we just take up the scissors and start whacking, the usual method. What is with all this wishy-washyness? Spring, hurry up and get here so we can have purpose to each day and be too tired to do all of this thinking.
Frances






Frances, what will I leave behind is one of the questions that accompanies my days. I, like you, want my ashes strewn in the garden as this is my idea of heaven. It won’t be long…I can feel spring approaching.
Kathy Stilwell said this on January 25, 2010 at 7:15 am |
Frances, It sounds like you have a bad case of winteritis. I have always felt that I would garden to suit myself because if you move on, in any manner, the next person would likely bulldoze the garden and start anew. I would like my ashes spread in the mountains where I feel so at home. I have never lived in the mountains but I feel drawn to them like most people talk of being drawn to the ocean.
It was so warm here this weekend I actually got outside between rain showers and picked up sticks. It felt good to be out there with a mission.
Lisa at Greenbow said this on January 25, 2010 at 7:19 am |
Hi Frances
Too much time to think. I know it well and sometimes it’s difficult to see the way.
As for the tidying the old foliage etc.. I’m sure it will be hidden come late in the season and effectively compost itself. Truth is it will take ’til much later in the year for the last years dead growth to dissapear.
A holding, nursery bed is a terrific idea. I think I’m going to create one.
Have you ever grown artichokes? Now there’s an edible ornamental!
I’m sure you’ll get a moment of inspiration, a second wind, new designs put into place and quite strong possibility the old foliage will be cut back. Well it’s so satisfying composting it.
Onwards.
Rob(ourfrenchgarden) said this on January 25, 2010 at 7:30 am |
It is true that gardens are ephemeral. I keep hoping that whoever buys my house once it is on the market will love the garden and keep it. The last house I sold had two buyers. We picked the one that loved the garden.
Daphne said this on January 25, 2010 at 8:13 am |
Frances, You have cabin fever, dear. Don’t we all? That’s why those plant and seed catalogs show up in January. To get us to part with our money while daydreaming over all those pretty plant photos!
Cheers,
Cameron
PS The owners of the last two houses that I built have continued to maintain the gardens that I planted, and have even extended and made them better.
Cameron (Defining Your Home) said this on January 25, 2010 at 9:11 am |
From an old Captain Beefheart song: “Someone’s had too much to think!” LOL,actually I enjoyed your transparent ruminations on “what to do.” Its refreshing to see others deal with confusion which plagues us all in one form or fashion. If it’s not the garden it would be something else. Winter does this. I think you should plant exotic perennials in that rasied garden – and leave space for adding others. I mean real exotics. Naturally, you could squeeze in some asparagus or even a slew of herbs, but it’s hard to beat perennials for slow, revealing pleasures. How about trying 10 different Penstemons? Hey – I’m just trying to help!
Steve said this on January 25, 2010 at 9:15 am |
I do wonder what the next owner of our house would do to everything I’ve planted. I’ve thought about specifying a 2 month gathering period where I can come back and gather cuttings and a few plants when that day comes. I think you should keep a couple tomato plants in the veggie garden. I’m always happy when I can pull out a juicy tomato anytime I need one over the summer. Keep some herbs in there and intermix perennials and vegetables!
Dave@TheHomeGarden said this on January 25, 2010 at 9:31 am |
Lol, Frances, another timely post–if you have read Gail’s post by now, you know that Ringo Starr is going to turn 70 this year! That certainly makes us feel our mortality, doesn’t it?
Reading this, I was reminded of a movie I watched recently–”Gray Gardens” with Jessica Lange and Drew Barrymore. If you haven’t seen it, it does show what happens to magnificent gardens over time when no one cares for them. I don’t think so much about what will happen to my garden when I’m gone, but then I don’t have a very big garden. I worry more about what will happen to it when I am no longer physically able to care for it. The Semi-Piet method sounds more appealing every day.
Thanks for the tips on the hellebores–mine were newly planted last spring, so I hadn’t a clue how to care for them. I’ve just let them grow ala Semi.
Rose said this on January 25, 2010 at 9:48 am |
It will be interesting dear Frances, to see how your winter ruminations affect (or don’t affect) how you garden next season and in the seasons to come. It’s interesting how we grow and change in the seasons of our lives. Thank you for sharing your thought process. I’m looking forward to more conversation in the comments.
It’s a pleasure driving by my last house, seeing the front gardens exactly as I left them and being nicely maintained. I’ve been tempted to drive to the neighborhood, park, and take a walk on the street behind so I can get a peak at what has happened in back. The house before that, the new owner ripped out everything except the front garden and planted lawn in its place. In the house before that, the gardens remain, but the house in unrecognizable – an imposing 3-story McMansion was built around the original cape cod. It looks ridiculous in the cozy neighborhood of sweet little baby boom ranches and cape cods! I still have a lot of friends in that neighborhood, and they hate the house now, but often comment on how pretty the gardens still are. I’m amazed at how much the trees have grown, and am pleased that the mature plantings look so pretty and at least, soften and give an established look to the McMansion.
linda said this on January 25, 2010 at 9:55 am |
One of the houses we lived in had a completely neglected garden. After some ministrations, roses, bougainvillea and ixora of different hues woke up. Suddenly other plants which had gone underground in the heat, started appearing. It seemed miraculous!
lotusleaf said this on January 25, 2010 at 10:26 am |
Frances, I have pondered that question often, and I have come to the conclusion that gardens are the temporary creative reflections of the people who design and work in them. When those people leave, the garden changes. Whether it changes for the better or worse is subjective, of course.
I moved last September, and unfortunately, we live only a few houses away, so I have to look at what the new owners are doing to the garden.
3 trees – chopped down, including the lovely crabapple I rescued from strangling bittersweet when we first moved in. It was absolutely humming with bees when it was in flower. They also hacked my shrub roses to the ground and ripped out the clematis viticella “Polish Spirit” that I had trained to grow between them.
Anyway, enough whining. I could go on and on.
I just wanted you to know that I do think about this subject often. I believe there are few creative enterprises as intensely absorbing as a garden. Hang in there.
dirtynailz said this on January 25, 2010 at 10:47 am |
Ha! Yes, spring needs to get here fast. I’ve been trying to decide which plants to buy online and am stuck because I can’t decide on anything.
It would be interesting to see you experiment with doing no clean up at all. Maybe in parts of the garden? I’m not sure I could restrain myself, and I think that would be the hardest thing for you. But then again, we’re not getting any younger… I’m not sure you’d like redesigning your garden into a Lurie/Piet style. What would you do when it’s not blooming? Where would the color come from? Seems difficult.
Okay, let’s get out in that garden. I’m starting to feel too wishy-washy too.
Jean said this on January 25, 2010 at 10:49 am |
This time of year is no good for our thoughts. We have to much time to think and not much to do! I also want spring to hurry. What about if we all join togehter and call for it at the same time, could it work ? =)
We’ve also got more snow comming up this week and we’re a bit tired of it / kram gittan
gittan said this on January 25, 2010 at 10:50 am |
I’ve already told my husband that if I go before him I want my ashes scattered on the garden. He looked repulsed by the idea. Perhaps I need to get it in writing. Then he’ll have to do it, as he’s a stickler for protocol.
I don’t want to think what will happen to the garden. Heck in Raleigh Elizabeth Lawrence’s house was saved but the fraternity built their new house on top of her garden. Genius, huh? (I wrote that I hated NC State in red marker in a drawer in my bedroom desk when I was kid — I still have that desk — and my sentiment still stands, btw.) At least her Charlotte garden is still being lovingly tended.
Relating to Semi’s garden — I don’t do much fall clean-up in my garden either. The Bidens skeletons may be ugly but the birds really love them for cover.
I do wish that gardening was a more popular pastime in the US. In my part of the country sitting is the most popular pastime — sitting on a riding mower, sitting in front of the TV while chugging a beer — and it’s a shame, really. My garden has so many perennials, smaller shrubs and annuals, making it very fluid from year to year, that someone else could really make it their own.
Sweet Bay said this on January 25, 2010 at 10:50 am |
Frances – this is such a fascinating post. There must be something about the start of a new decade that sets the mind to racing. Ringo and I are both racing towards 70, but it seems impossible – for both of us. Still my husband and I have chosen Review and Renew as our mantra for 2010. Not only in the garden, but around the house, and in the time we have left – which we expect to be another decade or two, but time’s winged flight is always at our back. As for what happens after we have flown, or simply not finished all the chores, I don’t worry about it. I have moved often enough to see my little domestic landscapes bulldozed, and had years when I could do very little gardening, and left for China for two years – making me rethink EVERYTHING. So – Onward!
commonweeder said this on January 25, 2010 at 11:09 am |
A garden is, by definition, an artificial construct. As such, I believe that nature should remain nature, and garden should remain garden. However, it seems best to have the garden echo the surrounding nature, so that the garden seems a part of the greater landscape. What does this mean for your questions? I don’t know, but I would caution against pulling everything out and trying to recreate the Lurie in the backyard. Would you want to part with plants that have an emotional attachment, such as some of the daylilies your neighbors gave you? Do you want to wait for the whole thing to take years to mature? Wouldn’t it be better to remake the garden a small area at a time to be more easily maintainable? How about using part of that veggie bed as a cutting garden?
Mr. McGregor's Daughter said this on January 25, 2010 at 11:29 am |
Dear Frances, With notable exceptions, and they probably only number a very few, I really believe that gardens belong to people in their own lifetime. When they have gone, moved away or died, it is possibly not important as to what happens thereafter as, in my view, the very spirit of the gardener has departed and taken with it the garden’s soul.
What I think is important is that we should all delight in our gardens when we have them, whether this is reshaping them completely, in part or simply allowing them to, as far as possible, remain unchanged.
Edith Hope said this on January 25, 2010 at 11:41 am |
Oh Frances much food for thought there. I have never thought about what will happen to my garden when I depart this life for good. What I have thought about though are my gardening books and small collection of snowdrops – I do need to make plans for those to go to a home where they will be treasured
Interesting point about the hellebores – I think that cutting the old foliage off shows the flowers off better but they would still strut their stuff regardless of a tidy up or not. I do hope that your daughter gets back into gardening when she has more time on her hands. In the meantime it sounds like her garden is thriving.
Anna said this on January 25, 2010 at 12:01 pm |
I’m glad to know I’m not the only one that spends time worrying about things that never happen like you describe in your first couple of lines. When I start doing that I have to find some sort of project, even if it’s just making a list of what I want to do once the weather improves.
I got an idea of what would happen if I couldn’t take care of the garden. While I was pregnant with the Littlest Gardener my husband did his best to help but I could see he just wasn’t that into it. I also didn’t have the heart to tell him he was cutting back things that shouldn’t have been. For now I’ll just fantasize that my daughters would take care of it
Catherine said this on January 25, 2010 at 12:10 pm |
Francis as I am sure you know very little cleaning has ever been done in the ridge top and sunny utility meadow gardens here, other than picking up the bigger sticks, some weeding and keeping new trees out until I arrived. The green will overtake the brown for the most part eventually. Some of the stems of the more woody perennials like goldenrod and some of the asters can remain standing all year and while they do get lost in the green they are still there taking up space. That offends my sense of tidiness once spring gets started. Who wants to see 10,000 daffodils coming up through a bunch of brown sticks? I think the comprimise is to take a pair of hedge clippers and cut down all the brown sticks left after winter and just leave them where they fall. You get a cleaner look with half the effort. Besides with almost two acres of semi-tended ground, (pun intended) being obsessive about it I think would hinder the real enjoyment of the gardening experience.
As for the garden itself when we are really gone, Que sera, sera.
Christopher C NC said this on January 25, 2010 at 12:13 pm |
Well this was such an interesting article as I had no idea I was supposed to clean up my garden for winter. I just walked away with all kinds of things blooming, and I’m dreaming of getting back to the garden come spring. Next year I will try to be a little more thoughtful. I’m wondering what zone you live in. I’m in N.Carolina but in zone 6 as we are at an elevation of 4000 feet. Seems to me that things grow different here.
Valerie Looney said this on January 25, 2010 at 12:36 pm |
Thoughtful and thought provoking~xxoogail
Gail said this on January 25, 2010 at 12:41 pm |
Hello Frances,
You have the true heart and mind of a gardener – wondering what will happen if….as well as trying new things. I always like to look at the gardens of homes that have been abandoned or are getting ready to be torn down due to a new freeway. It is interesting to see what thrives even when neglected. In our area that is Oleander and Bougainvillea.
Noelle (azplantlady) said this on January 25, 2010 at 1:20 pm |
Hi Frances! I feel the land has it’s own heart and spirit.. and will usually decide (if we allow it)..to create in the most divine way! And when you touch something with your true heart and spirit( like you obviously do)..your essence is truly imprinted..you are forever immortal in that garden or space..your spirit embodies the land and the land embodies you!Land truly belongs to no one..if only for a short time..but while we are guardians of it..we honor it as best we can..and in turn it honors us infinitely!
Wonderful read!Thanks for sharing!
Kiki said this on January 25, 2010 at 3:02 pm |
Frances,
I am so inspired by photographs of the Lurie Garden… and I would love to visit one day. When I decided on making a meadow on my front slope, I was thinking not only about the beautiful grasses, bulbs, perennials, and annuals that would be planted, but also about the fact that it would be relatively low maintenance. I love to garden, but don’t want to spend all of time outside gardening. I want to sit outside in the middle of my meadow and just enjoy being in it – without the nagging feelings that I should be pruning or fluffing this or that.
Like you, I do struggle with this just a bit because I want to grow EVERYTHING! Though I have started to be very selective when shopping for plants. I like the thought of nature taking over the place when I am no longer here to take care of it all. Or, perhaps the next person will enjoy a garden and choose to keep some of what I created. I’d like to think that they would.
I think sometimes these shifts in our thinking are very good for us, as it allows us to see things in a different way. Thank you for these insightful posts.
Liisa said this on January 25, 2010 at 3:15 pm |
I have been planning our gardens and today I ordered some seeds. Can’t wait til they get here and plant them inside to watch them grow.
Willow said this on January 25, 2010 at 4:04 pm |
Anonymous said – Dust we are, and to dust we shall return, and in between we plant a garden. I love that. And if the hellebores are getting you down, leave them be. Do the bits you enjoy. Says she lugging half a ton of water, 10 litres at a time!
Elephant's Eye said this on January 25, 2010 at 5:24 pm |
Thanks for a little light reading before I turn in. Gardener’s are so uniquely suited to be in the present, the future and the past all at one time. It takes a lot of dedicated brain cells to keep in one’s head what is where, what it does, when and how to tend to it, what size it will reach, what it likes to eat, how much water it will need, and other bits of infomation. Where is any fool can mow a lawn. Maybe you could age like Tasha Tudor and spend your autumn years padding around a vast garden without your shoes.
Les said this on January 25, 2010 at 9:59 pm |
Maybe I’m odd, but I have never worried about my garden or my blog. I figure at some point, my words would only continue to resonate with those that loved me and that garden would either return to nature or change under another gardener’s hand. What I have thought about is my book collection. It would seem a shame if it didn’t go to other gardeners. Perhaps I will have to think of making arrangements now with a gardening club so that exactly that will happen.
Kat said this on January 26, 2010 at 12:08 am |
Okay Frances, My grandmother had me put her ashes at the base of her favorite Rose of Sharon outside her back door. Since my parents lived there it seemed like a good idea, but then they moved and my Nona is still there. Hopefully the tree is also. When she died,at 97, my girlfriends gave me a gift card to a nursery to buy something to remember her by. I of course bought a rose of sharon similar to hers. perfect. Well, I took a scoop of her ashes so she could also be with my new tree that was supposed to make me think of her as it bloomed. well, the next year it died. I mean really died. there was no saving it. I am not sure human ashes are all that good for a tree or maybe she was just mad that I didn’t put all of her under her own tree. In any case, I bought a new rose of sharon which not only thrived, but survived the move to our new house. So the moral to my story is we should probably find out if it will kill our plants if we are planted where they are. BTW whenever I drive by my old house where I lived for 23 years and gardened there, it breaks my heart to see everything overgrown and uncared for. I know it’s not mine anymore, but somehow it still bugs me. I wonder if she would even notice if I showed up at night and worked until it was beautiful again. Probably not. Some people just don’t get gardening. Can you imagine? Do you think she’d mind if I dug up the plants instead? I could use them here. I may be writing from my jail cell soon. you’ll know why.
Teresa said this on January 26, 2010 at 12:14 am |
I’m with others who think that winter may be weighing on you a bit heavily, dear Frances. I’ve started you an email note but had to put it aside for a day or so while I deal with a few deadline-related matters. Spring will find us all again soon, I promise.
jodi (bloomingwriter) said this on January 26, 2010 at 10:04 am |
I say shave it all off…! New Year, new you, new do…lol! Frances, may I suggest a new hobby~Zumba! I had a 62-yr. old man in my class last nite and he had a blast! Great fun for the soul AND body…and gets your mind of the garden blues. Loved this post!
lynn'sgarden said this on January 26, 2010 at 10:57 am |
Survival of the fittest, Frances! I have had to revamp my garden many times over the 30 plus years, especially since I’m away for long periods of time during the growing season. I panic when I get home and spend hours tidying aggressive plants and unsightly perennials (in a rush, pruned off the tip of my left index finger that now looks like a pencil). Since I’ve devoted so many hours to my beloved garden, I often say it would be the perfect place to ‘check out’
As much as love spring, the work load is huge and, I hear you, each year it becomes more of a challenge.
joey said this on January 26, 2010 at 11:20 am |
I think this an excellent question and one worth thinking of. What better time to do so … than in the middle of winter. Is that not why we have these times to retreat and think… it is a good time to ponder what ifs? Take a new perspective in how we look at something like our gardens. With each year we add additional weight (not necessarily in pounds only) to our frames. Time worn muscles and stretched grey cells seem to tell us … rethink! rethink! It is natural to look at one’s garden now Frances… I admire your hard questions. I join you in contemplating. My garden is already showing what happens with abandonment. I have lost rock gardens, herb gardens and large beds of perennials gone. I shudder to think of bitter sweet framing a door, as it is taking over the land here. Perhaps not cutting it down is the key… for it sends up an army of seedlings… here it pulls down tree after tree! When creating our gardens … well we would like to think of the next owner caring for it as we do, but one gardeners jewels are another’s rust! To try to make our gardens more sustainable seems a good idea. Simplify into our sixties … well that is worth considering too. There is nothing morbid about planing as you say Frances… I believe the more we do so … the easier our final passing will be for those left to remember. Why is it that we can so easily admire the stages of life in our gardens but cannot bear to speak of our life and death adventure. So true life begins to fade as soon as it is birthed just as a flower… and our seeds are here in our thoughts to carry on. Your children will be thankful for that part of you too. But now onward as you say… to the spring gardens transformation… to cut or not to cut… that is the question! Great post! ;>) Carol
flowerhillfarm said this on January 26, 2010 at 11:54 am |
Eek, your post of what will happen to the blog is a bit scary to my mind. I try to live for today and not think of such things but I do worry about what if one of my cats departs how will the remaining fur ball react? But the Blog? Well, I think the blog should end with one departing or another generation, taking it on… As far as what will happen in the Garden? Well, many things will happen in the garden in time with some being happy moments and some sad but it will continue on from day to day…
skeeter said this on January 26, 2010 at 12:00 pm |
Hi Frances,
Sometimes it is difficult to make the decision to rely on farmers markets… but you will have more space for your lovely flowers now! I look forward to see what you end up doing.
Rosey said this on January 26, 2010 at 3:06 pm |
Sometimes I wonder what would happen to gardens if all of humanity were suddenly gone. There would be no-one to decide what to prune or pull or move.
The snowdrops would run rampant, as well as the borage and rocket in the veggie garden. Our driveway would become overrun with alchemilla, which roots itself right in there, along with columbine. Vines growing and tearing into the walls, pulling them down. Seeds from the big tree would take root and grow into a woods. Peppermint slowly creeping into larger clumps.
I wonder how many of my roses would continue…
Silvia / SalixTree said this on January 26, 2010 at 5:50 pm |
When I sold my first house (where I had planted my first garden), my realtor told me never to come back because you never know what the new family will do. I did go back to visit friends. The front looked just the same. But I had planted a Japanese maple sapling in the back (honestly, the first year I planted it, the tulips were taller). By the time we left it was waist high – I couldn’t wait to see it. But it was gone. Gone, with only an unfilled hole in its place! Had it died? Had they dug it up to give away or sell? I guess I did get my reward though – the Japanese maple in my new garden is two stories tall and the favorite climbing tree for my kids. I hope they remember it as it is, not as the stump it must someday become!
Kelly@LifeOutOfDoors said this on January 27, 2010 at 1:29 am |
I learned the hard way, that a garden is fleeting and truly beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I adored my country cottage garden on a farm in Ohio, but the big D hit and that garden was torn apart…raised bed, picket fence, plants, and all. I spent days giving plants to friends and digging up what I could, but so much was lost. I’m getting my garden mojo back, but I know it will never be the same and that’s ok. I’m embracing new ways to garden and enjoy the bounty and beauty of nature. As for me…just divide my ashes between a flowering garden and the Atlantic ocean off Cape Cod.
Teresa O said this on January 28, 2010 at 12:16 pm |
Frances, I too have been thinking about these issues recently. Like you, I am a planner — and I don’t think it’s a morose tendency; if I have a plan to deal with the worst-case scenario, I can stop worrying about it and enjoy the moment! Although my garden is still in the expansion phase (or are all gardens always in expansion phase??), I’m starting to have some trouble keeping up with it all. I tell myself that when I retire from my full-time teaching job in a few years, that will change; but I also need to accept physical limitations that are part of aging. I think that for gardens like yours that are fairly well-known and beloved, it’s also good to have some kind of plan for the garden as a whole. A cautionary tale was provided by a much-loved and much-visited garden locally. When the gardener died, a battle broke out between children who wanted to divide up the plants and move them to other locations and friends and neighbors who were horrified that the garden as a whole composition would not be preserved. Friends and neighbors set up a non-profit foundation and eventually won, but at the cost of bad blood between them and the family. Thanks for raising issues many don’t want to think about and giving us all an opportunity to consider them. -Jean
Jean said this on January 28, 2010 at 12:45 pm |