Looking Forward

In 2 days we bid farewell to 2025. In doing so, we look back to the year that was and look ahead to the year we hope it will be. As I examine 2025 from a gardener’s perspective, it is apparent that the garden experienced 2 distinct periods of attention.

For the first 6 months it got by with the bare minimum of care. Thanks to work done the Fall of 2024, the Spring did not suffer too much. The bulbs rallied splendidly and my negligence was somewhat obscured. But neglect I did. Albeit with good reason. The year had started with the untimely loss of 2 dear friends and through the winter my grief distracted me from the routine planning and preparing for the start of the growing season. And then, as I slowly began getting into the rhythm of vernal duties, my beloved father passed away. That hit hard. While I found solace in the garden, doing the necessary work was all I could muster. None of the plans I’d considered months earlier were accomplished. My heart just wasn’t in it.

Then, sometime in July, as I walked around the garden, quite unconsciously, I started making mental notes about things I thought needed improvement, required drastic changes or, more of the same. I returned indoors inspired and excited to get cracking. Suddenly, lists were made, research initiated, plans drawn up – the gardening juices were once again flowing in my veins. Hallelujah.

I’ve spent the rest of the year happily busy and excited in the garden in a manner that reminded me why I love gardening so much. Life in the garden teaches hope, patience, acceptance, understanding, cooperation, coexistence, resilience and forgiveness.

I’m immensely grateful for the lessons.

I am deeply aware of the privilege of having this plot of earth to tend and protect. It is not lost on me that the garden reciprocates in exactly the same way. We encourage each other to keep showing up and we grow together. That’s what life is all about.

Wishing each and everyone of you a very happy, healthy 2026.

(c) 2025 Shobha Vanchiswar

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Leaning Into The Light

It cannot go unaddressed – the spirit of the season is unmistakably uneasy right now. So much discontent, discord and despair everywhere that it would be delusional to say all is well in the world. Feeling overwhelmed, anxious, fearful and frustrated has become our default setting these days. It’s easy to find company in this state of misery. While the commercials urge us to shop our hearts out and party hearty, it’s pretty much impossible to ignore the news and reality of our time.

For me personally, it is a struggle to push ahead and plan for festivities with the full knowledge that there are horrible things going on. Rather than succumb to aforementioned external pressures, I unhesitatingly take a step back to regroup my thoughts and intentions. It isn’t easy to be calm and still in the midst of chaos and turbulence. However, we know better don’t we? We are fully aware that there is indeed a time tested remedy to soothe our frazzled nerves, cool our tempers and heal our hearts. Get outside and spend time in Nature.

Never mind the sub-zero temperatures – I bundle up and take a walk. The rhythmic crackle of my feet shattering the crust of snow makes a chatty, comfortable companion. Draped in crystal, the trees along my path dazzle in the sunlight. Encased in ice the floating leaves on the small pond glint like finely enameled jewelry. Such breathtaking beauty!

A flash of red grabs my attention and I observe a pair of cardinals in a hedge. How effortlessly they move through the thickly enmeshed limbs of privet and bramble. I make a mental note to return to this area later in the spring to do some “nesting” – where I can discover the nests of certain birds. Only to observe; never to touch or intrude.

Closer to home, I examine the magnolia buds warmly clad in soft fuzz and their promise of a beautiful spring warms my heart. I know the bulbs I planted in the Fall are resting quietly in the earth, insulated by the snow – they don’t care what’s happening above. For now, they lie patiently and with optimism.

So engrossed in my surroundings, I lose all track of time till I’m made aware of a shift in light. The snow is glowing in hues of pink and lavender. The sun, unfazed by earthy concerns and crises is setting with great flair and aplomb. Bewitching.

Returning home full of joy and inspiration, I’m determined to set my mind on only what truly matters to me, gives me purpose, brings me joy. That resolve will be reaffirmed anew each day with a daily walk and, with the return of Spring, work in the garden.

My covenant with Nature is what will guide me to do my part in making a positive impact in this planet we call Home.

(c) 2025 Shobha Vanchiswar

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December Digest

Digest : a summation or condensation of a body of information – Merriam-Webster Dictionary

As we wind down the year and reflect on what we’ve learned and how we’ve performed, I offer this poem as a summary of what I’ve learned from the garden, the greatest classroom/workspace of life.

Masterclass In The Garden

Misty morning, heavy air

heat will rise from sun’s hard stare,

Take tools up, begin early

get work done, before moods turn surly.

Remove the weeds, the nasty thugs

check for disease from vicious bugs

Timely action creates breathing space

to grow and thrive in a state of grace.

Mix and match, create diversity

native plants for sustainability

Working together, righting wrong

It’s keeping balance and growing strong.

Climbing tendrils find their footing

reaching, stretching, pushing, pulling

Every journey needs some support

Footholds, hand-holds, gentle escort.

The circle of life holds the reins

Seed to flower and back to grain

Building homes, feeding family

a universal goal, not an anomaly

Shobha Vanchiswar

Note: I’m not sharing any photos this week. Instead, I ask that you reflect on your own gardens and gardening year. What life lessons have you learned?

(c)2025 Shobha Vanchiswar

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The Spirit Of The Season

This week officially launches us into the holiday season. The excitement (and in some cases, the trepidation) is palpable as friends and families anticipate the reunions and celebrations. With the lampposts and trees festooned in twinkling lights, the downtown area of my small town is looking mighty festive. The tree lighting and holiday singalong happens this Friday – an annual signal to shop local and give back to the community.

With the garden pretty much put to bed, I’m more than ready to get into the spirit of the season. It is, for me, a time to gather with loved ones, be grateful for all my blessings, give back as well as give to those whose needs are greater than my own.

In getting the house ready for house guests, friends dropping by and also my own winter cocooning, I focus on bringing in elements of nature. It begins with stocking up on firewood – there’s nothing like the sight, sound and smell of a roaring fire to bring everyone together for conversation and commiseration or, quiet contemplation in blissful solitude.

With paperwhites and amaryllis placed all through the house, a sense of anticipation pulses. As the green leaves and buds emerge and rise, so does the eagerness to see the flowers in bloom. All in good time. With some luck, the jasmine will put out flowers to perfume the air just as the paperwhites get done.

Holiday trees, garlands and wreaths don’t simply adorn. They are proof that we humans need Nature.

And in this cozy, comforting embrace of home, I will start by expressing thanks for everything I have been given. From the small (but no less important) like the friendly wave and smile the garbage truck driver unfailingly gives me to the big as when my entire family traveled from great distances to gather for my beloved fathers funeral. And then, there’s everything in-between.

The list is long and deserves time and attention. Well worth it.

I now shift my focus to giving back or to and here again, the list is long. But that is by no means costly because, it is not about stuff. Instead, I give my time (company to the lonely/recuperating, a listening ear, a handwritten note), my skills to help with a project/event or pitch in for someone who is unable to do something due to injury or illness and finally, invite folks over for a meal or drop off food. I also pot up paperwhites and/or amaryllis to give away – recipients are invariably thrilled. I think an evening with neighbors for board games or some rowdy rounds of Charades along with something as simple as pizza is always a hit and fosters community. I give promissory notes to help get a garden project started in the spring, a monthly walk and talk, you get the idea.

Where I actually give money is to organizations with missions I believe in. From those that work on environmental issues like nature conservation, preservation, coexistence, sustainability etc,. to supporting the arts and sciences, women’s health, homelessness, climate change – all efforts in dire need of funding. Locally, nationally and globally one cannot give enough. I give what I can and of course, while that might not feel adequate, remember, as long as we are doing our best, it is always more than enough.

Happy, blessed Thanksgiving wishes to each and every one of you.

Some inspiration –

(c) 2025 Shobha Vanchiswar

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Garden Ghosts, Goblins And Gore

Halloween decorations abound in my neighborhood. In some cases, they’ve been up since mid-September. I’ll come right out and say it, most are neither scary nor attractive. For such a highly anticipated holiday it would be so nice to see some serious creativity on display. But, each to his/her own and I will just mind my own business.

For a long time I’ve considered the fun of setting up a garden of Nature’s horrors to spook visitors. I really think there’s nothing we can come up with that could compete with what the natural world can offer. If I had the wherewithal, I’d create a Halloween Garden. Actually, I’d make two. One for non-gardeners and another for gardeners.

This week, I’ll share my ideas for the Gardener’s Garden of Horror. The correct time to visit would be in the hour before sunset. When the light can be quite dramatic but the details are not sharp. It sets the requisite mood of mystery.

On approaching such a garden, all looks lovely. Splashes of seasonal color herald the visitor. On closer inspection, the garlands of bright orange draping the fence are bittersweet running amok. Miniature balls in shades of pink, mauve and blue abundantly adorn all manner of plants – porcelain berry! And poison ivy resplendent in deep reds and bright ocher is running riot.

A path cuts through a meadow of nothing but stilt grass. Monsters lurking around prove to be shrubs completely covered in English ivy. Huge swathes of gooseneck loosestrife wave gracefully in the breeze.

And what are those lovely iridescent ‘stones’ on the roses? Japanese beetles shimmering away that’s what. Tree trunks covered in both adults and nymphs of the spotted lantern fly look gory.

Walking by what you know to be the vegetable plot, you see a slew of slugs having an extended supper. Every plant has been decimated or defiled.

And so it goes. Invasive plants, dreaded pests! Which gardener will not be petrified by this garden? Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Next week – the Non-gardeners Halloween Garden.

Note: Since I don’t want to traumatize you gardeners any further, I’ll spare you any scary images! Instead, here are images of a Patrick Blanc vertical garden I had the joy of seeing in Aix-en- Provence, France a couple of weeks ago. What a treat. What a diversity of plants! On the side of a bridge under which cars whiz by, I’m not sure how many drivers realize just how amazing this installation truly is. Nevertheless, their world is rendered significantly more healthy and beautiful. This should become a global movement I say!

(c) 2025 Shobha Vanchiswar

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Gardening With The Changing Climate

As promised last week, I’m sharing my thoughts on the changes we must consider making to keep pace with climate change. As gardeners, we see the impact of even the slight shifts in weather patterns – when plants emerge, when they bloom, quantity and quality of bloom, availability of pollinators, numbers of pollinators/pests, fruit production etc., We have front row seats in the climate change arena. So what are we going to do about it?

For starters, we accept that this is real. Not a one off or happenstance. There is enough scientific data to prove it if one is still skeptical despite the evidence we see in our individual gardens. Then, and only then, can any positive, productive action follow.

Given that our winters are milder and springs arriving earlier, sowing times have to be changed. At this point, it is about experimenting. For certain plants that get directly sown, when/how early must needs be determined. Can sowing in the Fall even be a possibility? For seeds started indoors, we can undoubtedly begin earlier. But how early?

Similarly, the timings of other tasks such as pruning, cutting back, harvesting, dividing, planting for spring, summer flowers and, fall bulb planting must also be adjusted. I’ve already penciled in mid-November for bulb planting. That’s a good 4 weeks later than when I used to do that job just 10 years ago. The last couple of years it was done the first weekend in November. But, last year, it was so mild well into December that some bulbs started pushing up their green snouts by Christmas.

Pest control will be a very urgent matter I predict. Along with old pests there will be new ones. This year, my neck of the woods has seen a significant increase in the numbers of the Spotted Lantern Fly. It’s been horrid. At present we haven’t any effective methods against them. There’s talk of introducing some new wasp that can combat the pest but then, will this newcomer endanger other desirable insects and/or plants?

Known problems like powdery mildew, aphids and other diseases may well be exacerbated. Yikes!

The significant reduction in the bird and insect populations has alarm bells ringing. Filling our gardens with as many host plants is imperative. Which brings us to the next matter.

What we plant will also need consideration. Some old favorites are going to struggle in the new climate conditions. Decisions must be made as to what we replace them with. Which plants we call native to our parts is going to change!

The learning curve will be steep but, we are a resilient bunch. We will learn and adapt. There is no choice in this matter.

We gardeners must recognize ourselves as civilian scientists. As custodians of our personal parcels of land, it behooves us to take our responsibilities seriously and with optimism. Together, we can not only continue to enjoy our gardens but importantly, we get to ensure that future generations inherit a better, healthier world.

Note: I’m taking the month of September off! Going off the grid! I shall see you back here in October. Here’s the list of garden chores for September –

Things To Do In September

1. Continue weeding.

2. Deadhead. Cut back anything that looks ragged or done for.

3. Mow the lawn less frequently.

4. Water judiciously.

5. Get leaf rakes, leaf bags and keep ready. Fall cometh! Preferably, let leaves remain in place wherever possible.

6. Similarly, keep bulb planting stuff like dibbler, bulb food, trowel, spade, etc., handy.

7. Continue harvesting vegetables. Remove plants that have given their all and toss on the compost heap.

8. Stir compost heap thoroughly.

9. Plant in cool weather vegetables.

10. Check if fall blooming plants such as asters and chrysanthemums need staking.

11. Inspect garden for pests or disease. Take prompt organic action if detected.

12. As days get shorter, make it a point to enjoy the garden as much as possible

(c) 2025 Shobha Vanchiswar

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Wry And Dry

I’m having a hard time contending with the shifting weather patterns. No season is panning out to be ‘normal’. Trying to determine how the present slate of long residing members of the garden is coping is proving frustrating.

After a dry, milder winter, some plants emerged earlier than anticipated, others showed up late and the remaining were right on time. So which lot were the savviest in anticipating the weather? More importantly, who amongst them timed themselves to align with their favorite pollinators? Native plants have co-evolved with native insects and the jury is still out on how any or all are handling the changes.

Spring started out cool and wet but finished blisteringly hot with some days of rain. And thus began summer with a string of heat waves only to have August arrive cool as a cucumber but dry as a bone. So here we are – still sans rain but steadily heating up.

The ground is parched and many plants are panting with their tongues hanging out. The rain barrel is so low that the watering cans sit looking forlorn and unloved. I’ve resorted to watering the pots by turning on the taps and using the hose. The majority of the plants are of course in-ground and I’m debating whether to give them a good soaking or let them tough it out. Since drought conditions haven’t been declared so far and I’m loathe to lose some treasures, I’m leaning towards the sprinklers itching to be set up so they can madly shower the garden.

However, looking long term, it is worth examining what sort of plants one ought to be introducing/replacing in the garden. Certainly heat and drought tolerant ones but does that mean plants that have till now been ‘native’ to zones clearly south of mine? Or southwest? ‘Native’ will be a fluid term for sure.

Accordingly, what does this mean to the bird and insect population? Without any apparent clarity at present, I’m not in any hurry to pull out any old faithfuls. But, I do think I must start considering adding in new (to these parts) members to make some sort of headway in what and how we grow our gardens of the future.

I’ve always maintained that the garden is one big laboratory and gardening is a series of experiments. Well, right now, we are at the crossroads of setting up one complex experiment. In this chartered territory of gardening during climate change, I cannot determine if I’m a profoundly inexperienced novice or a truly mad scientist. Only time will tell.

Hot Colors of summer –

(c) 2025 Shobha Vanchiswar

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Escape Artist

I am not a summer person. This fact surprises many because how could an avid gardener not enjoy the season when the garden is at its peak? Well, this gardener can happily leap from spring right into fall. The high heat and humidity of summer really does me in. I wilt and wither almost immediately so how could I possibly like this season?

Certainly the garden is growing exuberantly right now and there is much satisfaction to derive from the success of the designs and plants I envisioned months, even years ago. But, given that I seek the cooler confines of the indoors as soon as temperatures spike, summer, in my opinion, can be very easily skipped. I have so much fun planning for this time that that in itself is all the pleasure I need. Yes, I dislike summer. There, I’ve said it.

And because I’m not in the garden weeding and tidying as much as I’m required to, matters get out of hand rather quickly. I’m not above shamelessly appealing to family and friends to help out. I bribe with food and drink. If that fails, I lay on the guilt. That works quite effectively. I advice everyone to give it a try.

I escape from the disapproving gaze of my garden by sneaking into spaces that don’t require any exertion on my part. It’s much nicer to visit other peoples gardens when it gets too hot (and humid) to be in my own. Inexplicably, summer feels kinda pleasant wandering around with a tall glass of something strong and cool in hand, admiring the not-my-garden, I generously reserve judgment on any mess or weeds left in place ( I’m only hard on myself) and cheerfully put up with weather conditions I typically find intolerable. Maybe it’s the work I resent doing. Indeed, I do have a lazy streak.

Last week, I escaped to Ithaca. For a whole week. Except for one amazingly cool, dry day, the weather was not very different from my own neck of the woods. But, I was not doing any work was I. So, it was all very agreeable. And I did visit a garden on the Cornell campus that I like immensely. Each time I’ve gone into this lovely space, it has been devoid of all other visitors. Even though it is almost directly across from their popular ice-cream place.

I have no idea what the story is about this garden – there’s never anyone around to ask. No doubt overseen by one the several plant-based departments of the university, It is well tended and clearly planted thoughtfully. Looking beautiful in all seasons, this garden offers lessons in color, texture, shape and design. Annuals and perennials are selected and mixed together by someone(s) who knows gardening well. Abuzz with all manner of pollinators, it still feels calm and quiet. My kind of garden.

Now that I’m back home, I’m studiously averting my eyes from my neglected piece of paradise. I’ll get to it tomorrow. Maybe.

All the photos below are from this unnamed Cornell garden. Enjoy!

(c) 2025 Shobha Vanchiswar

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Summer Wine, Whine, Vine

July started so hot and humid that very little got done in the garden. Watering the plants that looked parched and miserable, cleaning and filling the hummingbird feeders with fresh sugar solution and topping the birdbath with fresh, cool water has been the extent of my labor. Even that limited time in the garden was enough to be devoured by greedy, vicious mosquitoes no doubt lying in wait for my forays.

BUT, the long weekend was simply gorgeous. The Fourth ushered in lower temperatures and even lower humidity. Hallelujah! A morning hike in a preserve nearby was glorious. Birds and bird songs abounded. After spending so much time in the cool of the indoors, it was liberating to move around. Feeling the gentle breeze, hearing the birds, inhaling the earthy smells of the lofty, green pillared cathedral was nothing short of being in a sacred space, My spirits soared. A reminder of how much we need to be in Nature.

Back home, it was pure bliss to simply sit in my garden and enjoy the sight of all the flowers that had been undaunted by the preceding days of heat. I delighted in watching the hummingbirds at the feeders, butterflies dancing in what appeared distinctly flirtatious and, a myriad happy pollinators in action. The Echinacea was a particular draw.

Later that evening, I was privileged to sit in a friend’s garden sipping wine, observing the brilliant sunset before the main attraction – fireworks of course! A very satisfactory day indeed.

Saturday was just as lovely. Between neighbors dropping in to see the garden and us driving over to friends for a garden party, I did exert myself to get a spot of weeding done.

At the aforementioned garden party, there was a brief period of grumbling about the pest du jour – the reviled spotted lanternfly. With no real control available, folks are resorting to neem oil. A good general, organic treatment but, not only must it be reapplied after every rainfall, it is important to remember that the good insects are also impacted by any general products. My own response is to crush the pests whenever I see them. The nymphs are more elusive. My Concord grapevine is a lanternfly favorite so, I’m watching the developing clusters of grapes with trepidation.

Sunday started out beautifully and I made the most of it by lingering outdoors but by noon the humidity rose as did the mercury. Sigh. Another week fraught with heat, humidity and thunder showers is forecast.

Why oh why must all good things come to end? And so quickly too.

(c) 2025 Shobha Vanchiswar

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A Case For Autocracy Or Tough Love?

Did the title get your attention? Good. Allow me to spend the next few paragraphs making my case.

In trying to understand what we’re facing as a nation, my mind has been working overtime. As always, when faced with a life problem I turned to the garden for counse. The answers were not readily apparent. However, in going about the business of gardening, cogitating on what and how we humans readily behave badly whilst simultaneously declaring our goodness, I started becoming aware of just how explicitly the garden was informing me.

The very work of making and maintaining a garden is about Control. We act as boss and not so much partner with Nature. We apply our plans and designs to create our vision and in doing so, we often operate counter to Nature. What we plant and grow, the practices and methods we employ are for our own purpose – to make a beautiful, bountiful garden.. Even as we ‘welcome’ pollinators and beneficial creatures, we are doing so to our own advantage’.

Weeds? Pull ‘em by the roots and dispose. A plant (native or otherwise) gets thuggish and invades spaces not intended for them? Cut back ruthlessly or remove entirely. We cut, clear, coppice, confine and cage to suit. Train, tie and twist. Stake, suppress, spray. We do what we we want. You see? We’re a pretty bunch of horticultural autocrats!

Are we really this bad? Yes we are if all we focus on is getting our personal agenda fulfilled. The worst kind of gardener is one who uses methods and practices that damage/destroy indiscriminately and without consideration to the surroundings and those who live in it. Such gardeners do indeed exist but I’d like to think that there are more of us who are better than that. We make choices that do the least harm or none at all. On principals of coexistence, conservation and community, we create our gardens to be spaces that allow insects and other animals to visit. Pests are discouraged by encouraging their natural predators, companion plantings or the judicious use of organic applications.

Of course, we still prune, pull weeds and deal with invasives but we also compost to use as both fertilizer and mulch. Grow native and/or ecologically beneficial non-native plants that are resilient, hardy and less demanding of resources like water and labor. We keep in mind that we are but the privileged, temporary custodians of this, our precious piece of land for future generations to enjoy. As in parenting, we provide structure, boundaries and some discipline – with kindness, care, compassion, empathy and most all, with love. Tough love.

In the final analysis, it comes down to who we choose to be and how we choose to act. If we can look into the eyes of our children and grandchildren and justify our choices without reservation or excuse, with the full understanding that they led to better, healthier lives for them, then, and only then can we confirm that we chose right. From deep within our hearts.

(c) 2025 Shobha Vanchiswar

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