To Everything There Is A Season


Take the storms in stride
Let the rains come
Feel the sunshine
Ride the waves
Mark the tides

Spring has officially begun and with it comes renewal and rebirth in the garden. As much as one tires of the dark, freezing days of winter, would we be so thankful and welcoming of spring if it were not for the season before? When something is present all the time, we tend not take the trouble to appreciate it on a regular basis. Just look how often we take the people we love for granted. Or the luxury of having not just running water but hot water when needed. Think how your penchant for iced tea would suffer without the easy abundance of ice within arms reach. How frequently we fail to be grateful for the daily necessities that make our lives so livable. Even more overlooked are those details like a friendly smile, a newly opened flower, freshly laundered sheets, early morning birdsong; things that though not entirely essential, lend joie de vivre to the dailiness of our lives.

And so it is with the propensity one sees these days to have the ever blooming rose, the eternally immaculate, “no maintenance” lawn, the ‘instant’ tree or best of all, the effortless vegetable garden. If anticipation itself is half the pleasure, then the well-timed rose completes it don’t you think? To expect eagerly and then applaud the flowers that bloom but for a specific span of time cannot in any way compare to what is in flower all the time. We simply get used to things till we no longer notice them. The local, sun ripened strawberries of late spring cannot be matched by those imported at other times of the year. If we had firework displays all the time, would the fourth of July still feel special and celebratory?
Everything has a season for good reason.

The high price of a pristine lawn and the harm to the environment can hardly be worth losing the earliest sources of nectar for bees and hummingbirds – the much maligned dandelion. Much is sacrificed in the effort to keep that lawn just so that ,we’ve forgotten the birthright of children and animals to play there, pick grass to make a whistle, bury a bone or other treasure, search for four-leaved clover without worry of the toxic effects of weed killers and pesticides.

Disregard for the moment, the expense of planting a mature or almost mature tree ( they are called ‘trophy trees’). After all, if one has the funds, why must a person be judged for how they spend it. It the foregoing of the utter satisfaction of watching a young sapling evolve into an impressive tree that is the true waste. So what if it takes too long for a baby tree to become an adult tree? Would we not think it a pity if we missed out on the years it takes a man-child to become a man? Think about it. And then, with the money saved, a multitude of whips can be planted instead: to create an alley, a grove or an orchard.

What exactly is a low maintenance vegetable garden? Does that mean not enough care was given to the plants? Were the plants compelled to jockey for space with rampant weeds? Or maybe no sleep was lost when pests ate up a good portion of the crops. To get healthy, abundant vegetables, regular watering, weeding and organic pest control is de rigueur. Besides, if it were that easy, would you have the same pride when putting food cultivated by your own two hands on the family table? Gives one pause right?

Assuming one implements time and sweat saving practices, how then are those purloined hours spent? I’d be ecstatic if they were passed in noble pursuits like face to face conversations with family and friends, a pick up game with the kids, volunteering for community services or hardest of all, spending time being creative sans anything digital for assistance or company.

A better approach is to acknowledge that we are but small cogs in the big wheel of life. Invite the gifts that nature has bestowed upon us. Sunsets, rainbows, birds, butterflies, flowers, fruits, fall foliage, snow, rain, rivers and lakes, oceans, mountains, forests, prairie and, most precious of all, each other. There will be storms, droughts and the occasional locust invasion. Accept them. We’re meant to live in harmony with nature. Each day comes laden with its own pleasures, treasures and choices. Choose wisely and you will partake heartily of the day.

Lets make this a true beginning, an honest spring.

“A man’s children and his garden both reflect the amount of weeding done during the growing season.”- Anonymous

Wisteria

Wisteria


Bonica roses

Bonica roses


Ornamental grass

Ornamental grass


Asters

Asters


The good life

The good life


(c) 2013 Shobha Vanchiswar

Holy Heuchera!

I’m in love with Heuchera. This is not a love that made me swoon and swept me right off my feet but one that has grown from a long friendship. A friendship that came about by sheer happenstance. Isn’t that the way so many good relationships develop? When we aren’t trying too hard or analyzing too much, when we’re more relaxed and open to receive what or who comes our way. And so it was with me and Heuchera.

Several years ago, I was trying to add visual oomph to an oft overlooked, shady part of the garden. Amongst the assorted greens, I added the almost acid yellow of Hackonechloa grass and needed a dark color to balance this palette. Shade tolerant, purple or burgundy hued, low to medium height and easy to grow were the characteristics that were required. At the nursery, as I trolled the aisles of happy perennials screaming “pick me!” and trying hard to suppress my impulse to adopt them all, I came across a plant that appeared to fit the bill. That was how I first met Heuchera. Rosettes of obsidian, palmately lobed leaves and quite unpretentiously handsome overall, it was ideal. An appropriate addition to the garden.

Once I realized how dependable this newcomer was, I looked for more to fill in various shady corners of the garden. To my sheer delight, I discovered that Heuchera come in a variety of shades ranging from dark to chartreuse to variegated. A multitude of hybrids between various Heuchera species has been developed. One could make a whole bed of the many Heuchera to create a stunning botanical rendition of a Flemish tapestry. Commonly called coral bells, because of the coral colored flowers on long racemes that rise well above the main body of the plant, Heuchera are not generally selected for their blooms. Its the foliage that make them so interesting and vital. FYI – the flowers also come in white, green and red colors.

That they are hardy, virtually pest free, shade loving and easy to propagate by division only increases their value in the garden. I’ve had Heuchera in pots that stay outside and unprotected all winter and to date, they have survived remarkably well. That is impressive don’t you agree?

But wait, it gets better. Heuchera are true North American originals! They grow in different habitats so there’s something for a garden anywhere in the world. The leaves are edible though I have not been inclined to nibble at them. Natives of the American northwest used to make a digestive tonic from the roots. Again, I’m not recommending that anybody try out a recipe. Though personally, I’m happy to know that they are standbys in case of famine or a sudden inclination towards gluttony.

With a truly extensive array of blossom sizes, shapes, colors, foliage types and geographic range, they are quite valuable in any garden. Besides, who can resist cultivar names like ‘Burgundy frost”, “Raspberry regal”, “Smokey rose”, “Purple petticoats” or, “Chocolate veil”?

I do believe this love affair is for keeps.

A Heuchera trinity

A Heuchera trinity


Greenhouse with Heuchera outside
More!

More!


(c) 2013 Shobha Vanchiswar

Dear Diary

Glimpse Of Spring
She arrived without fanfare
a quick visit
a prelude to the grand arrival
She thought she’d be unnoticed
but I saw her
I caught a glimpse of Spring last week.

Dear Diary

Since we are planning and preparing for a new season of gardening, now is a good time to start keeping a garden journal. Putting down ideas, plans, designs, progress, day to day horticultural happenings are extremely useful and enlightening. My paternal grandmother wrote a diary every day and I remember being very intrigued by that. She never encouraged me to do the same but I must have inherited the journaling gene because since my 20s, I have always kept journals. At first it was about my life in general – I vented, ruminated and, celebrated all the goings on. I wrote about my hopes and plans. The pages of my journals bore witness to my tears over disappointments, pride over triumphs and mostly a whole lot of mundane rubbish.
As a scientist, I learned to keeping meticulous notes of my work on a daily basis. Once I acquired some land on which to garden, maintaining a log of my activities combined with my observations and thoughts was natural. Keeping notes leaves nothing to memory which is notoriously unreliable. The records allow for comparing, referencing and following the progress of the garden over the years.
I’m always shocked by how inaccurate I am when remembering something that occurred in the garden. My garden entries are testimonials to this fact. I’ll be informing no one in particular about the delay in or early blooming of certain flowers only to read that the pattern is exactly the same as before. The same for how I recall the weather and how it affected my garden. If word of how poorly I recall these matters got out, those who must deal with me on a regular basis might rethink the association. But the truth is, most people have the same problem. Hence, it is well worth the time and effort to write down all relevant points.
Tasks, expenses, opinions, successes, failures, ideas and dreams all get written down. What is in bloom or in fruit, what the temperatures have been and how much rain has fallen are noted. Pests and problems are lamented. Nothing at length: just succinct reporting. There is the most to write about during the busy season which of course means there is the least time available to do so. I have often lapsed in putting down all the garden goings on and lived to regret it. A forgotten brilliant idea is plainly useless.
I do take lots of photos and they are incredibly helpful. But like a doting parent, I tend to capture the garden only when it is on it’s best behavior and not when it is throwing a tantrum and presenting itself in a weedy, pest ridden state. Amends are being made and I have begun to capture those not so proud moments. Photos do not however convey emotions, opinions and dreams. What I think I must do, might do, want to do can’t be surmised from an image. So it is still necessary to record those down.
Journals don’t get written with a view to leaving a legacy but there is a part of me that harbors the thought that perhaps one day when this piece of earth is no longer mine, my writings will enable the next gardener to understand why, what and how it used to be.
What would be interesting is to see how influential what goes on in the garden has on my writings in my personal diary which, over the years has become more reflective and less self absorbed. Did I write deep, poetic and/or witty thoughts the same week the garden looked great and all the related tasks got done? Do the seasons in the garden parallel the seasons in my life? I’ll bet there is a direct correlation but, I’ll set that project aside for now. There is much else to get done.
Journals

Three hyacinths

Three hyacinths


Making a start

Making a start


On it's way!

On it’s way!


Voila!

Voila!


(c) 2013 Shobha Vanchiswar

March Musings

Goodbye winter weary February, hello March! Coming alive with all the trappings of hope and optimism is the theme of the month. Look around. The evidence is everywhere. Bulbs determinedly pushing their way through the frozen earth, the willow trees turning an ocher yellow soon to be replaced by sap green, forsythia bushes studded with fattening buds of burnt sienna. I go on treasure hunts of my own – Spot the Snowdrops and Unhide the Hellebores.

This past Friday, in celebration of it being the first of March, I went on a reconnaissance of my garden. In the midst of patches of grass left exposed by the last snow melt, I spied the earliest of the snowdrops! A sight that never ceases to thrill. I rushed to check the hellebores. Sure enough, sweetly nestled beneath the protective mantle of last year’s leaves were buds galore. Firm assurance that spring was well on its way.

In the greenhouse, the primroses brought inside in pots last fall, have begun putting forth flowers in colors that could only have been chosen by a child. Deep red, fuchsia pink, egg yolk yellow sit happily on rosettes of cushiony, kelly green leaves. They’ll be moved into the house to provide instant cheer.

Heralding the hyacinths still breaking through the ground, are the ones being forced indoors. I have placed the forcing vases and pots where not only I, but others will be sure to notice the daily magical transformations. Idealistically I imagine that such gems will improve our moods and outlooks. They do.

The annual orchid show of the New York Botanical Garden started this past weekend. Like a pilgrim, I went with fervor and faith in my heart. At this time of year, I’d go to just about any floral exhibit. Never mind that the flower shows are not entirely realistic. The sight of a gazillion flowers in bloom is the perfect ticket to banish all traces of the winter doldrums. The more gaudy the splashes of color the better. I am now brimming with renewed energy and desire to serve my garden. As soon as it gets bearable to work outside, I’ll be pruning the roses.

The gardens at the NYBG are always a couple or so weeks ahead of my garden. Surveying the swathes of blooming snowdrops and eranthis, the fully open hellebores and even a few daring crocus, I had a very satisfying preview of the pleasures to come. Is there anything more sublime?

Even the light has changed. The soft, pale amber of winter has turned a distinct shade brighter. After we move the hour hand forward on the tenth, we’ll be waking to sun burnished mornings. I cannot wait. I too have awoken from my hibernation.

Hyacinth 'nosing' through

Hyacinth ‘nosing’ through


Daffodil leaves up and growing

Daffodil leaves up and growing


More evidence that spring is imminent.

More evidence that spring is imminent.


My first snowdrops

My first snowdrops


Early crocus at NYBG

Early crocus at NYBG


Snowdrops at the NYBG

Snowdrops at the NYBG


Eranthis at the NYBG

Eranthis at the NYBG


NYBG

NYBG


Orchid show

Orchid show


More orchids

More orchids


Hyacinth in bud

Hyacinth in bud


More hyacinths in vases

More hyacinths in vases


Hyacinths and muscari

Hyacinths and muscari


(c) 2013 Shobha Vanchiswar

Mind Altering Magic In The Garden

I have a growing need to simplify, bring greater calm and positive thoughts into my own life. Like Thoreau, I too yearn to “simplify, simplify”. I once read somewhere that creativity flows from a quiet mind. It’s true. I’m at my most creative when my mind is calm and not full of clutter. Each time I’m frustrated with my progress or substandard efforts, I’ve learned to bring my attention to what is producing the static and disturbing my thoughts. Anger, remorse, worry, anxiety, fear and, sadness are all factors that get in the way of creating. These emotions are human but it is what we do about them that determines who is enlightened and who is not. Being all too human myself, I struggle on a daily basis to reach for that higher level of being. Nothing helps me in this endeavour more than the garden.
A good hour of weeding has on many occasions resulted in solutions for conflicts or concerns. A more physically demanding chore like pruning, digging or mowing gets rid of negative energy and anger. I turn to relaxing tasks such as watering and deadheading to comfort me when I’m feeling blue or tense. Certainly, any length of time spent in nature is restorative. Nature unfailingly inspires in me a need to be and do better.
However, sometimes, it is other people’s negative energy that thwarts one’s own efforts. For those who live with me, I’m known to send them and their bad moods into the garden to take care of some chore or other. I’m yet to be disappointed by the change when they return. Nothing short of a miracle.
But I’ve been thinking further. Consider elements that always serve a noble if elusive purpose. They are fun to boot. How about mazes, labyrinths and tunnels? Any one of these brings a consistent sense of curiosity, wonder and humor into our everyday lives. A childlike openness to the possibilities of magic and imagination.
I doubt anybody can resist walking through a maze, labyrinth or tunnel. The challenge of finding one’s way out of a well designed maze ellicits a feeling of giddy excitement tempered with a mere hint of fear. I remember my visit to that famous maze at Hampton Court, England. We were three adults and one child. It took us a while to find the exit but the fun we had is still vivid in my mind.
Labyrinths are a bit different. While irresistibly calling to be walked, it magically makes the walker slow down and focus on the path itself. Pretty soon, the mind is calmer and the breathing deeper. On completion of the circuit, the person is in an entirely different, more deliberate state of being. I have discovered a lovely labyrinth on our frequent drives to southern Vermont. It belongs to a church but is very much open to the public. I cannot emphasize how much it means to me visit this place every time we’re passing by. Similarly, last summer, we visited the Heritage Museum and Gardens in Cape Cod. Here, the labyrinth was bigger and contained mighty trees that seemed to stand like sentinels safeguarding both the spirit of the place as well as those who entered it. I watched children who started out running and then gradually quietened down as they followed the purposefully laid out trail.
Tunnels in gardens are rather interesting. They needn’t be long at all. Simply entering one spurs the imagination.What it guides you through and leads up to can be quite exciting. I’ve walked through wisteria tunnels that were heady with scent, laburnum ‘walks’ that cast an other worldly golden light and then the one in Giverny so strewn with bright orange nasturtiums scrambling all over the path that one was forced to look down the whole way. You emerge from a tunnel with a renewed appreciation of freedom.
It is plainly impossible to ignore any of these elements in a garden. So, how come there are hardly any private gardens with a maze, labyrinth or tunnel? They are not as complicated as they might seem. The upkeep need not be costly. So many options come to mind! My own garden precludes them due to the lay of the land but believe me, I’m thinking very hard about it. One day in the not too distant future, such a feature might just be added.
Meanwhile, here is a suggestion, okay it’s a fantasy of mine – consider a maze or labyrinth that must be traversed to get to one’s front door. A perfect antidote for those coming home from stressful hours at work or fighting heavy traffic or simply in a foul mood from real or perceived problems. Imagine a teenager returning from school full of typical whines and tales of woe. By the time they get through this imaginative ‘walkway’, they’ll be in a kinder, gentler state of mind. It’s as though you put out a big sign saying – “ Leave ill-tempers and negative thoughts at the door please”. I do believe, certain unwanted solicitations and pollsters would be reluctant to attempt stopping by. It gets better and better!

Tunnel of wisteria underplanted with lavender.

Tunnel of wisteria underplanted with lavender.

 

Nasturtiums almost covering the path. Giverny.

Nasturtiums almost covering the path. Giverny.

 

Labyrinth in New York

Labyrinth in New York

 

Simple and elegant.

Simple and elegant.

 

Labyrinth at Heritage Gardens

Labyrinth at Heritage Gardens

 

Lovely interplay of light and shadow.

Lovely interplay of light and shadow.

(c) 2013 Shobha Vanchiswar

The Listening Garden

When my daughter was very young, we’d go on Listening Walks. We’d explore the neighborhood in total silence. On our return home, we’d talk about the outing. The experience taught us both to be more present in the walk as we observed sights, smells and sounds. Bird calls, busy squirrels, barking dogs, passing cars, lawn mowers, footsteps, the wheels of the stroller, the wind, the rustle of clothing as one walked, the aroma of wood smoke, cigarettes or roses, – everything was noted. Later, we’d decide if the dog’s bark was friendly or not, what sort of birds we’d heard and seen, the sounds created by different footwear. All of this provided for much richer, textured walks plus some interesting post-walk discussions. By keeping ourselves quiet, we not only heard better but saw and smelt more acutely. Admittedly, for the exhausted parent of an active, precocious child, these walks were as close to a spa experience as I was going to get. Today, we both look back very fondly on those Listening Walks.

Recently, while visiting an elderly friend who is losing his sight and hence unable to garden the way way he used to, I started thinking about how to keep his time in the garden still very enjoyable. I’ve been pondering the Listening Garden.

Some elements lend themselves naturally to such a garden. Water features like fountains and streams, bird houses and baths to attract the chatty feathered ones. Wind chimes are possibly something many would add but I personally am not a fan. I find their sounds intrusive and distracting. Instead, I prefer to hear the winds make their passage through ornamental grasses and trees. So of course, choosing appropriate plant material is important.

The aforementioned grasses are a significant part of a Listening Garden. Different grasses make different sounds. Next time, pay close attention and you’ll learn! Plants that make seed pods that rattle in the breeze are also good. Baptisia, columbines, sweet peas and such are excellent candidates. Interspersing the garden beds with plants that have a free, loose style of growing will also create a type of gentle wind music. Asters, mallows, cleomes, agastaches, cosmos and cimicifugas come to mind. Juxtaposed with more solid shrubs like boxwoods, you’re on your way to organizing a botanical orchestra. Leave hydrangea blossoms and other papery flowers to dry on the plants and they will make a sound akin to that made by the brush stick hitting a drum. A sustained swish.

Include plants that are particularly attractive to birds, bees and other insects. The critters will be wonderfully noisy. There is something quite satisfying about hearing bees and birds going about their business. It is the sound of a healthy garden. I will continue to do some research and seek out more ‘listening’ plants for my friend. I welcome all suggestions. It goes without saying that including the element of smell is crucial. After all, what is a garden without fragrance? It is not just the perfumed flowers that I want to add. As one walks around the garden, brushing against the leaves of scented geraniums and herbs like lavender and verbena stirs the olfactory memory.

Similarly, I shall not overlook the plants that feel good to touch. Velvety lamb’s ears, sand-papery leaves of echinacea and bergamot, plumey Russian sage …

Listening Gardens are not solely about sound nor are they just for the sight impaired. Everybody can benefit. Ultimately, ‘listening’ with all of the senses makes for mindful, deliberate, joyous living.

Baptisia seed pods

Baptisia seed pods

 

Echinacea

Echinacea

 

Feathery grass for sound and texture

Feathery grass for sound and texture

Hydrangea

Hydrangea

 

Bees visit the asters

Bees visit the asters

 

Cicada

Cicada

 

David Austin 'Heritage' roses

David Austin ‘Heritage’ roses

(c) 2013 Shobha Vanchiswar

A Study In White

A Study In White

Plate glass roads wind
under crystal chandeliered branches
Silver gilded ponds reflect
vast cellophane wrapped marshes

Dagger edged roof lines
threaten crackle glazed hedges
Diamond encrusted shrubs sway
alongside tinsel tossed grasses.

—-
How lovely the winter landscape appears after a snow storm. The purity of the white lends itself to the stillness of the season. All is quiet and calm. Even the birds at the feeder are hushed. The beauty of the white landscape makes this gardener think about white gardens exploding with perfume and elegance. Twinkling white lights showcasing night blooming jasmine and moon flowers. Even in this cold, I can imagine the summer breezes carrying the scent.
White gardens are not new but they were made mainstream by Vita Sackville-West’s white garden in Sissinghurst, England. I’m not sure why this garden suddenly caught the attention of so many but my guess is that the time was right. People were ready for something different. Even bold. Not the least of course is that Vita’s garden looked absolutely lovely. Click here to see it www.invectis.co.uk/sissing/.
What made this garden work? Or for that matter, why don’t all attempts at white gardens work? After all, there is a plethora of choices for such projects. Roses, lilies, phlox, tulips, snowdrops, hellebores, campanulas, hydrangeas, viburnums, azaleas, rhododendrons, alliums, irises, peonies, lilacs, tuberoses, wisteria … my goodness, the list never ends! Yet, many attempts at white gardens turn out to be boring. The answer then is quite simple. It is the non-whites that make or break such a garden. There must be colors that contrast with or complement the white. Inherently, white is influenced by it’s surrounding. As a result what appears strictly white is invariably tinged with a soupçon of some other color. Artists have always known this.
At Sissinghurst, the grays and greens completed the garden. Chosen with care, they made the whites stand out. Green seems an easy, obvious color to go with the white. But if all the green is the same shade then it only goes to give the design a two dimensional quality. To provide texture and interest, select different greens, deep grays, some yellow, a splash of chocolate, a kiss of pink, a wash of blue. Think stems, leaves, ornamental grasses, berries and, seed pods enhancing the white flowers. Consider shapes, silhouettes, sizes. Finally, pay attention to the light. Bright sunlight on a white garden can either wash out the effect or blind the eye. So position this garden where the early morning or evening light plays it up. Even better if the garden can also be viewed at night when the white flowers seem to glow and the night pollinators can be observed. It is no wonder that white gardens are also called moon gardens.
To understand how to think about the color white, bring yourself back to the snowscape outside. Notice the way contrasting barks, evergreens and colorful birds heighten the white while gray stones, old rosy hued bricks and weathered wood soften it by imbuing some pale color. In my opinion, to successfully create a white garden is more challenging than any other color-themed garden. It is not a matter of just placing anything white in this space. Details are of utmost significance. Subtle, understated effects are key. There is actually plenty of color here but it is just not obvious. Think Audrey Hepburn as opposed to Dame Edna. A top notch white garden is always stylish and chic.
If you desire to create a white garden, this is an excellent time to plan for it. As you contemplate the scenes outside, thumb through plant catalogs and books to identify your selections. You have the advantage of time. Choose with thought and care. You’re aiming for brilliant not blah. Be sure to include some fragrant flowers. Take into account heights, widths and what sort of shadows will be cast. Do not discount surrounding structures like walls, buildings and fences. Prepare your design and write up the list. Get everything ready so when the weather warms up, you will be all set to make this garden. And while you’re at it, plan for that party under a full summer moon and white twinkling lights.
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Happy Valentines Day!

Happy Valentines Day!

(c) 2013 Shobha Vanchiswar

To Dream The Impossible Dream

Every February I dream a big dream. As I peruse garden books, magazines, seed and plant catalogs, I start envisioning new designs and projects for my garden. Never mind that many of them are impossibly large for my modestly sized Eden or prohibitively expensive or totally inappropriate for this climate. All is permissible in dreams. So let me be.

In my dream, the weather is invariably perfect. Days of sunshine and nights of steady drizzle. Temperatures are just this side of cool in spring and appropriately warm in summer. Humidity levels are most comfortable every day – where the sweat on the brow dries fast but not too fast.

There are no pests in my dream. None whatsoever. Birds, bees and butterflies thrive. Pollination is rampant and nests are happily built and occupied.

Healthy, happy plants abound. Following my exact designs, they grow to the right heights and shapes, in their assigned spaces. Chosen for color, texture, form and function, they perform precisely as envisioned.

And the flowers! They are blooming on cue and in right succession. The garden is awash in painterly hues all through the seasons. The combinations selected and arranged with care are mightily stunning.
Brilliant testimonials to the creative gardener.

This paradise is not without work. After all, getting my hands dirty and tending to chores will be highly rewarding in such a place. The weeds which are not too abundant come up with just a quick tug. The soil is rich and friable. Deadheading, staking, pruning and mowing keep me happily busy. Yet, I’m left with ample time to sit and enjoy my horticultural masterpiece.

What a dream! Please, let me indulge. It’ll get me through the winter.
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(c) 2013 Shobha Vanchiswar

A Case For Compost

I was recently asked what I would suggest if someone were to attempt just one new thing in the garden. That took some thinking on my part. It finally came down to two things. To plant a tree or start a compost heap. And the winner is – a composter.

 

Composting is one of those practices whose benefits are many and far reaching. The initial effort of setting up a composting system is not difficult. Nor is it expensive. And once you get into the habit of adding kitchen and garden waste to the compost bin, it’ll dawn on you that this is perhaps the most rewarding experience you’ve ever had.

 

It seems the main hurdle is to accept that composting is very doable and quite the necessity. If you recycle your paper, plastics, glass and such, why then are you not composting? Humans have been composting from time immemorial. There really is nothing to it. So get started. Make it the one new thing you add to your increasingly healthy life style.

 

There is a glut of information on the Internet on the science and process of composting. So I’m not going to go into that. Just take a little time to get your information and make it happen. If you live in an apartment and you do not have the space for composting outdoors, worm bins are available. There is simply no excuse. Cities like San Francisco require it’s residents to set aside compostables along with recyclables. In my opinion, this should be mandate country wide.

 

Compost is in essence the result of decayed organic matter. It fertilizes, mulches and enriches the soil. The simplicity of it all is so brilliant that it’s a shame that we ever resorted to more costly and less effective alternatives. Imagine, the stuff you’d otherwise chuck out can be so rewarding. I can’t think of anything else with such returns. Once you start getting a regular supply of compost, you’ll never again use another product. Your garden will thank you by flourishing and your wallet will be pleasantly plump.. Is there anything more satisfying?

 

As I’ve said in previous articles, I maintain two compost piles. All garden waste is deposited in the woods at the rear end of the property. This is not a contained heap. We just keep adding leaves, plants and other garden waste throughout the year. The mature compost is ready for large scale use every spring. All kitchen scraps go into a smaller compost unit. It is monitored more closely as stuff is added on a daily basis. Regular stirring and frequent compost removal for immediate purposes keeps this bin busy. Vegetable and fruit scraps, tea leaves, coffee grounds and egg shells provide my garden with sweet smelling, rich compost. Each day, if the kitchen pail is not full enough, it means we are not eating enough of the good kinds of food. What a gentle but firm way to keep tabs on healthy eating!

 

I’ve found that composting has given me a heightened awareness of nature and how she operates. My relationship to my environment has strengthened. As a result, it has made me more mindful of everything else that I do. How and what I purchase, what I eat, wear or use, and not the least, understanding my place in the big picture. I’m appreciative of how we are all in this together. Microbes, fungi, worms and humans cooperating to keep nature in balance. Biology at it’s best. This sort of conscious living has huge physical and mental health benefits. You think I’m exaggerating? Give composting an honest try and get back to me in a year. We’ll talk then.

 

Once you’ve begun composting, you can then add tree planting to your objectives. The fun never ends.

(c) Shobha Vanchiswar 2013

Resolving Resolutions!

It’s what everybody talks about this time of year. Even those who don’t make resolutions. I fall into that category. Sort of. Let me explain.

 

With age, has come some wisdom. I know not to set myself up for broken resolutions. Isn’t that what happens to most resolves? So I got tired of the guilt and sense of falling short of my expectations. I do indeed want to cultivate healthy habits, be a better person etc., but those, I decided, are life long goals. Each day I try to eat well, exercise, be positive, make a difference, be loving and so on. Some days are more successful than others. I don’t beat myself up on the not so great days. Every sunrise opens a new day to try again.

 

At the start of a new year, I review my big goals. Then I resolve to keep the ball rolling forward in each of those areas. Each day I move ahead in the right direction. On some days only inches are gained and on others, leaps are made. It’s all positive. And every degree of effort matters.

 

For purposes of this column, I’ll stick to gardening resolutions. In truth, as always, everything can be extrapolated to other areas of life.

 

Review the past year in the garden. What was successful and what was not. And why it was so. Knowing the reason is important if you want to learn. Think about what work was enjoyable, doable, difficult or neglected. How the tasks are perceived will explain a great deal about the garden itself. If you don’t remember to deadhead then naturally, the plants were a bit messy looking and went to seed quickly. Ditto for weeding.

 

Having done this, ask yourself if you’re reasonably satisfied with the overall performance. Yours as well as that of the garden. An honest answer will quite naturally point you to the appropriate approach for the ensuing year. Often you can be well satisfied even if there are areas you know that need rethinking or improvement. Again, that’s in the garden and yourself. Garden and gardener are usually evaluated together.

 

Things that failed are often more valuable in teaching us. With successes, one has a tendency to bask in it and simply repeat the same action. There’s nothing wrong with that. However, taking the time to understand the why of the success is neglected. After all, if it ain’t broke why fix it right? Failure on the other hand forces a confrontation. Which then leads to enlightenment. In the end, it is precisely that which makes us become better gardeners. Information gained in one project will be found useful elsewhere as well.

 

Let me give an example. A couple of years ago, I designed two almost identical perennial beds for a client. They were to give symmetry to an ordinary level path that led to the terrace. The new beds looked lovely. Having all the same growing conditions, the two beds were expected to thrive equally. And they did in the first year. However, from the second season on, one bed began to struggle for no apparent reason. The shrubs in particular were having a hard time. We tried replacing with new, healthy ones but again, they did not do well. With all things being equal, this was puzzling. The client even suggested we take out all the ‘failures’ and go with just the successes. That would’ve been easy. But I couldn’t let it rest at that. There was a reason for the problem and I had to find it.

Poring over old and new plans of the property, I saw that one bed was above a very old, long forgotten septic tank. The path separating the beds was a boundary of sorts. The reason the shrubs were unable to grow was because their roots quickly hit the concrete roof of the tank thus stunting their growth.

 

So instead of identical beds, we went for dissimilar ones. This actually proved to be even more striking in appearance than the first design. You see?

 

To sum up, there are no garden failures. Instead, think of everything as a lesson. Some are just harder than others. And as for the new year’s resolutions, plan on learning a whole lot more this year, do something useful in the garden every day, be accountable and keep moving forward.

 

I wish each and every one of you a happy, healthy and peaceful 2013.

 

(c) Shobha Vanchiswar 2013