Having reviewed in November, reflected in December, January is when it’s time to resolve. Resolve ideas and/or problems, resolve to do and make better. It is after all, the month when the world works on resolutions is it not?
As I go through my notes of observations, thoughts, wishes and wants in the garden, I’m generally struck by two things. The length of the musings and the sheer ambition of the gardener. Its laughable at first glance. But then, on reexamination, several things require the same action, a few items are quick fixes, some matters need a bit of tweaking while a couple are mere suggestions for pondering, others are long term projects and the remaining are simply pipe dreams.
Once triage, troubleshooting and targets have been sorted out, things look so much more manageable. Seed starting is scheduled, ditto for repairs and replacements. I break down bigger projects into doable sections and plan accordingly – taking into account seasons, my own work/personal calendar, time required and the possible need for additional manpower. Plants to be added are sourced and ordered – preferably from local nurseries. When and where to plant them determined.
Naturally, it all depends on the various circumstances, availability of what is needed, my budget and how easily I can obtain the necessary plants and/or structures. I have learned that no matter how well I’ve planned and prepped, it pays to stay flexible. Mother Nature has a habit of tossing out curve balls just for fun. My best effort is to have a plan, a commitment to execute it to the best of my ability and always allow for the Universe to intervene. Because, for better or worse, it will.
I’m still away from my garden and reveling in warmer climes but Nature continues to be my Muse –my recent watercolors –
Around the trunk of the Frangipani treeFamily equestrian – 8 year old great-niece Heliconia or Lobster Claws seedpodsPitaya or Dragon Fruit in senescence.Plumeria/Frangipani seedpod
A very happy New Year! May this be the year our gardens outdo our expectations and show us how to be our best selves.
A light warm-up of garden to-dos for this first month of 2024 –
Take down holiday decorations. Before disposing off the Christmas tree, cut branches to spread as mulch on flower beds.
Keep bird feeders full. Whenever possible, keep water available for the birds.
Inspect stored tubers, corms and bulbs for signs of mold and rot. Get rid of any that don’t look healthy.
This is a good time to examine the ‘bones’ of the garden. Make notes of what needs developing, changing or improving.
Make icy paths safe by sprinkling sand or grit. Avoid toxic de-icing products.
If ground is wet/soggy, take care to protect the sodden areas by not walking on it too much. Better yet, protect it by putting down a temporary path of wood planks.
Take an inventory of garden tools. Get them repaired, replaced or sharpened.
Gather up seed and plant catalogs. Start planning for the coming season.
Begin forcing the bulbs kept cool since late fall. Time to start an indoor spring!
Keep an eye on indoor plants ( in the house or greenhouse). Inspect carefully for signs of pests or disease. Act right away if either is detected. Organic practices only please.
Still on indoor plants: water as needed, rotate for uniform light exposure, fertilize every two to four weeks. Remove dead or yellowing leaves.
Survey the garden after every storm or snowfall. If any damage such as broken branches or torn off protection has occurred, try to fix it as soon as possible. Likewise, large icicles hanging from roof edges pose a threat to plants below: shield the plants if the icicles cannot be removed.
Enjoy the quiet respite offered by this first month.
Some images from my recent stay in Bali to give you a little escape from the cold clutches of winter. Bali is where the the sacred and sublime mingle seamlessly with the hustle and bustle of commerce and tourism –
I’m far away from my garden at present. For the past week, I’ve been in the very lush, very green city-state of Singapore. It’s also very warm and humid. While I’m enamored with the natural beauty of the dense plantings, it’s been challenging to spend long hours wandering outdoors. Still, one cannot but revel in a country that has chosen to invest significantly in environmental sustainability. The rest of us would do well to emulate this example.
So, not withstanding the joy of visiting with family and partaking of the myriad culinary offerings that Singapore is renowned for, I’ve been inspired by all the plantings to think about my own garden and how I can do better.
As I’d indicated last month, November is when I review how the garden performed through the year. Just observations, no judgments or justifications. Simply things of significance to note. December is when I reflect on those notes. The hows andwhys are considered.
The strange, wet summer resulted in several plants doing poorly. Some failed to bear flower or fruit. Others struggled to grow and still others thrived. How and why did this happen? Rain prevented timely pollination, plants in areas that got water logged were unhappy, others on higher ground loved the rain. This tells me if I need to relocate or replace certain plants – that’s something within my power. However, I cannot control shifting weather patterns and its impact on pollination. I check the plants who showed resilience – perhaps more of those should be introduced in the garden. Edit the members that do not have the staying power of a changing climate.
I reflect on how my designs fared. The success or failure of color schemes. My choices of plants need adjusting and adapting all the time. How can to do better is a constant quest. I learn all the time. My focus is to grow mostly native plants most adapted to my area. Within this lot, I look for form and function – they must look good, integrate well with the whole design, attract pollinators, provide color/shape/texture/movement/structure/flowers and/or fruit. Staying power through all the seasons is a bonus.
This is the time to think about what is lacking, where the gaps are. I take into account soil conditions, surrounding tree growth that has changed an area from sunny to more shady and, other growth requirements.
Similarly, I go over my notes, if any, from November about the hardscape. Did the wet summer rot a fence post or was it carpenter bees making too many holes in it? That factor would need me to consider if a simple replacement is sufficient or must I change the choice of the material of all the posts. Faded or peeling paint of structures or outdoor furniture, a pathways that isn’t quite intuitive – does it need tweaking or a whole relaying.
I make notes and then depending on the answers to all the questions, I do the necessary research to eliminate problems, introduce new plants or more of old ones, take out or bring in a special feature, plan a wholly different section. December provides a gardener with the luxury of time to really think about all the minutiae. Stuff that easily gets overlooked at other times but contributes enormously to the success of gardening.
Personally, I find this exercise a wonderful antidote to all the hustle and bustle of the Holiday season. It provides a mental escape and the satisfaction of knowing at the end of which awaits a proper plan of action to start the New Year on the right footing.
Happy Holidays one and all. I’ll be back in the New Year. And now, I return to enjoying my time in equatorial Singapore.
Note: Some scenes from Singapore –Horticulture, art, street scenes and such.
Changi airportChangi AirportHottest art show in townMurals abound in SingaporeAt the famouse Singapore Polo ClubSingapore Botanical Gardens. A glimpse of their world famous collection of orchidsAt the National Gallery Of Art – current exhibit.
Final stretch of 2023. With the weather getting colder and the garden put to bed, what is still there to do? Well, not so much if you’ve been diligent about doing things in a timely manner. Otherwise, here’s the nudge –
Things To Do In December
1. Hurry up and finish any pending plant protecting tasks! Ditto for statuary and other articles left outdoors.
2. Complete mulching all plants.
3. Drain out all outdoor water pipes. Store hoses properly.
4. Keep bird feeders filled.
5. Keep on top of watering plants in greenhouse and house. Stay vigilant for signs of pests or disease.
6. Set aside seed and plant catalogs for making plans for next year’s growing seasons.
7. Archive garden photos taken through this year. They will come in handy when you plan and design for next year.
8. Forage the garden to decorate the home for the festivities.
9. Enjoy paperwhites and amaryllis bulbs blooming indoors. Didn’t start any? Get some orchids instead. Long lasting, they will look fabulous right through the holidays.
We’re in post-Thanksgiving recovery mode. I don’t know about anyone else but, in my home, the entire long weekend is fraught with happenings. There’s the preparing first – for company and The Meal. Overnight guest quarters readied, grocery shopping done, menus planned, house put to order etc.,. Then, between the many meals (including the big one) and all the catching up and conversations, interspersed with brisk walks, raucous parlor games like Charades, excursions to see the season’s decorations and displays ( they start earlier and earlier), the four days fly by. It’s all good and yet, once over, I’m left with a desperate need for respite – a retreat to restore my energy and find my mental balance.
As much as I adore this Holiday and look forward to it as no other, I’m always ready for a breather come Monday. The quiet of the garden beckons for a moment of rest. No work, not even a tiny bit of tidy up is encouraged. Simply the welcome embrace of a most soothing calm to enjoy.
I stand in the meadow, close my eyes and inhale deeply the crisp, cool air – like a deep cleanse, all the cobwebs in my head disappear. Suddenly, I’m made more aware of where I am and the activities going on around me.
I hear the rustle of leaves still clinging to limbs like lovers reluctant to say goodbye. The birds are very much in evidence – flashes of color brightening up the mostly monochromatic brown landscape. They’re busy chattering and winging there way around on missions only they know and are actually quite loud. In my fatigue from partying all weekend, I had failed to notice them at first!
I smell wood-smoke from neighboring houses and imagine neighbors decompressing by the fireside. The sunlight warming my face eases me into a state of bliss as I scan shrubs for the vernal promise of nascent buds. I watch squirrels hurrying around like the Mad Hatter – what are they late for? Small stirrings in the leaf litter tell me of tiny critters too busy to mind my presence. My random footfall disturbs one of the resident garden snakes; he looks none too happy to be aroused and after a brief, futile attempt at looking menacing, he slithers into a pile of leaves near by.
It had rained hard overnight so, the soil is still wet and renders the grass dewy and very green. I resist the temptation to slip my shoes and socks off and feel the earth in bare feet. But, I can imagine the tickle of squelchy, cold soil. The witch-hazel in the far corner by the woods sends out tendrils of fragrance reminding me what season it really is.
Despite the untenanted appearance, the garden is very much alive with all manner of busy. There’s a plethora of movement and sound, smells and texture. I’ve only been out here for a half hour or so but in that short time, I’ve been recharged and refreshed. Ready to get on with the demands of the day. But perhaps I’ll remain a little while longer – it just feels so good to take in all the details of Nature’s seasonal offerings. Puts into perspective what really matters and how blessed I am.
Thanksgiving is not just a day. It is always.
Note: Here are some images from my visit a week ago to the NYBG. So many ideas for creating more autumn drama in our own gardens –
The week of Thanksgiving is one I cherish deeply. It’s a call to stop all the busy-ness and use the time to appreciate the many blessings I’ve been privileged to receive. This practice gives me the right perspective as we get into the holiday season and emerge into a new year. It’s a reminder to stay focused on what really matters and to stay true to my values.
This year in particular, when the world is in so much turmoil and there is pain and misery beyond belief, it is hard to think of celebrations and festivities. But, this is exactly when we must summon the love we have in our hearts and express it by way of saying thanks, giving hugs, lending a hand, listening attentively, paying a sincere compliment, making someone smile, sharing a meal. Simple, powerful acts of kindness.
I share with you two poems I wrote for the last two Thanksgiving.
Gratitude Is A Muscle
Gratitude is a muscle
Use it or lose it
Flex it and it grows
Practice makes perfect
One reaps what one sows.
– Shobha Vanchiswar
Thanksgiving
A harvest, a fruit
A forest, a tree
Abundance isn’t always
what the eyes see.
An open door, a glass of water
A sunny day, a summer shower
Simple respites
hold mighty power.
A stranger’s kindness, a child’s wave
A timely hug, a puppy’s lick
Gestures small in size
impact so big.
Love of family, support of friends
Reason to laugh, purpose to live
Immeasurable riches
sincere thanks to give.
– Shobha Vanchiswar
May your Thanksgiving be rich in peace, love and laughter.
Inspiration – images from the 2023 Holiday Train Show at the New York Botanical Garden. Do go see this show in person!
I’m taking my cue from Nature and slowly easing into a state of rest. Not quite the sit back and put my feet up kind of rest – at least not yet. That comes later in late December into January. For now, I’m just taking long pauses to enjoy the last of autumn and think about this past growing season.
With most of the essential garden chores completed, these slow days are very welcome. It’s a golden opportunity to linger outside and take the time to access the garden at a leisurely pace.
With the bones of the garden clearly visible, it becomes apparent if something is amiss. What needs repair, refreshing or replacing can be easily determined. With myriad photographs to refer to, I then consider how the plants did – individually as well as in relation to its neighbors. Did everyone get along? Who were the prima donnas? Who didn’t meet expectations? Who exceeded expectations? Which members went rogue? Did colors , combinations and designs work out? What could be subtracted or added or changed? These are the questions I ask. I make notes.
This review is a sort of stock taking. No judgment, no excuses, no bias – a simple report card. I make a list of all my observances and those will be considered later in December when I am indeed on the couch, feet up, libation of choice in hand and preferably with a roaring fire near by.
Like Nature, I’m slowing my pace. From a fast Salsa I ease into a slow Waltz. The body and mind are ready for a respite of an unhurried, measured rhythm. In partnership with Earth herself, I too need the winter to rest and refresh.
Bulb planting got done last weekend. All of a 1000 give or take a few. The weather cooperated beautifully. Sunny, not too windy and comfortably cool conditions made the daunting task much easier to tackle. I say daunting because it is. There are so many holes to dig, drop a bulb and then fill back whilst maneuvering ones way around myriad established perennials. In my garden, it takes two days of steady planting by a team of two minimum. One drills holes the other fills.
In the past, I did the whole thing myself. But age catches up and help is necessary – family is roped in. I’m immensely grateful for their willingness to go along with my horticultural ambitions or, as they like to call it, my craziness. This year, I’ve been handicapped by wayward knees so it has been particularly meaningful to get the support of loved ones.
Like a child of a farming family taking time from school to help with planting/harvest, my daughter drove down from her graduate school in Ithaca to do her fair share in getting the bulb planting done. I’m thinking next year, I’ll try to get her cohorts from school to join in and give my husband a break!
Despite having a direct, realistic understanding of the weather patterns and climate shifts, the loss, reduction or changes in certain flora and/or fauna of value to the ecosystem, gardeners are an optimistic lot. The very business of gardening is about the future. What I plant now will only yield in time ahead. Through all the vagaries of the weather and general circumstances, on pure faith we sow, plant, water, feed, weed and nurture. It’s going to be just fine – we feel this viscerally. It would be impossible to garden without that conviction.
When it comes to bulb planting, it takes an extra dose of faith. The bulbs look innocuous – brown, rotund, little nuggets full of the promise of a beautiful tomorrow. With the goal of celebrating the end of winter and the arrival of spring, we envision the flowers put forth by the myriad bulbs and plant. We bury the bulbs in cavities of appropriate depths scattered through beds and meadow and come away with the conviction that they will deliver. Our full trust in Nature is commendable. In our interactions with other humans we do not display quite the same degree of faith. Human nature seems so much more fickle and treacherous than Nature herself.
Currently, at a time when we cannot ignore the acts and words of so many people within our midst as well as afar that demonstrate the worst of human traits, we must seek solace somewhere. That somewhere is a garden – ones own or elsewhere. Here, we find comfort and courage to face the future. In planting a bulb, a seed or a young plant, we firmly express our faith that there will be better tomorrow. Life would simply be unbearable otherwise.
Note: I encourage those without gardens to grow something(s) in a pot. A houseplant, an amaryllis, micro-greens, anything. I promise, you will feel so much better as you watch it grow. Have faith.
Images of bulb planting this past weekend – A mix of assorted tulips, alliums, camassia, fritillaria and ornithogalums were this year’s choice.
Unpacking the boxes of bulbs. What was I thinking when I ordered so many?!!!Bulbs for the two perennial beds in frontThe 2 front beds await.Team workDrilling the holeFinished! A mulch of fallen leaves will be spread over.Planting in the meadowAmaryllisAmaryllisA lone paperwhite
It’s a chaotic time across the globe. Too much happening to ignore. While I escape into the garden, a book, a movie or the brushstrokes on paper, I cannot avoid being affected by what’s going on near or far. The climate, political chaos, living conditions, religious and racial disputes, wars… so much discord. No living being is untouched. As humans, we have to care, feel and respond. In ways big or small, we are each beholden to do something.Anything to make the world better.
I know I’m not alone in how overwhelming it feels. But we cannot, must not despair. I’m opting to bring out the compassionate warrior in me and fight for what I know to be right – for myself, my near and dear ones, my community, country and planet.
To start, lets just resolve to be kind to each other. Smile at people known or unknown, hold open a door for someone, pick up litter, plant a native tree or shrub, help a neighbor, pay an honest compliment, apologize without reservation, listen without judgment to an opposing viewpoint. The ripples of kindness will spread wide. We are not helpless – our humanity must triumph.
In the garden this week, I’m simply going to enjoy the season such as it is. A little clean up but mostly, appreciating this garden that gives me so much joy. In the face of so much disturbance, it cannot be taken for granted.
Seasonal Disturbance
The trees seem reluctant
to disrobe this year
Even the leaves are reticent
to reveal veins coursing
colors borne of the earth
Clouds shepherded
by the wayward wind
Gather in formations
akin to adversarial regiments
Threaten violent outcomes.
Perforce some leaves
will fall prematurely
Others sentenced to
languish and wither
On limbs too tired to care.
This moment in flux.
Feeds the uneasy heart
Anxious and uncertain
of changing climates
And changed live.
—Shobha Vanchiswar
Autumn vibes in the garden – not as dramatic as in the past but still beautiful –
At this time of year, there is an ethereal quality to the light so special that I’m moved to pause and simply bathe in it. Neither warm nor cool, it skims over my person as if to reassure me that it is real and is here to close out the days of warm weather with grace and beauty. Come late afternoon, the low slants of beams set the garden aglow. Every plant appears gilded, every wing speckled in gold dust. The golden hour of a day, a season, a year.
In the gloaming are revealed glimmers that bring so much joy, such unparalleled beauty.
Going about the myriad chores of the season, it is easy to miss the glimmers. But, I’ve learned over the years to slow down, sit down even, in order to do justice to this seasonal gift from Nature. How else would I be at liberty to observe the iridescent clusters of mason bees having one final fling with the mass of asters before the first frost claims the flowers for itself and the revelers go into hibernation.
The Amsonia scattered at various points of the garden grab the light to draw attention to themselves – their leaves having turned a bright yellow shout for attention as the rays of sunlight sets it afire. In contrast, the burgundy leaves of the oakleaf hydrangea appear like smoldering embers when back lit.
As leaves from surrounding trees silently swirl and twirl down in a bolero guided by the music of the wind only they can hear, I’m suddenly conscious of the air turning cold and pull my coat tighter. I feel privileged to have witnessed this collaborative performance of natural elements that feels both intimate and public at the same time.
In the midst of decay and senescence, my eyes stop at a tumble of rambunctious nasturtiums. The happily trailing plant still wears leaves that radiate emerald green punctuated by flowers of brilliant vermilion – as though it’s celebrating something known only to itself. I’m envious of its carefree ways.
Soon, I will harvest the leaves to make one final batch of pesto to freeze for winter meals. Memories of the growing season and dreams for the one to come will be indulged.
The hydrangea have begun to blush deeply and I take a break from some tedious chores to cut armloads of the flowers – to bring them indoors to fill big white, ironstone pitchers. They mark the season in a most graceful manner. With such a large bounty, I’m able to share it with those who enjoy them as much. Spreading the joy is a gardener’s perk.
The hydrangea perform once again at the holidays. Sprayed in gold, they light up the dark corners of the interior and chase away the melancholic shadows.
This being the time to divide plants, there are several that need to be attended in my garden. Particularly the ever exuberant asters, goldenrods and wood anemones. All beloved natives that surely every garden must welcome but they do need to be reined in periodically. All my ‘extras’ are readily accepted by friends and neighbors. It pleases me no end that a piece of my garden resides in theirs. Just as my own garden cherishes quite a few members that arrived from similar acts of generosity.
Continuing the spirit of sharing, in getting the plants ready for the greenhouse, a great deal of pruning and cutting occurs. From the rosemary and bay plants, I make little bundles of the cuttings and give them away to the keen cooks in my life. The thought that they will enjoy many winter meals perfumed by the herbs is enough to warm my heart. There really is joy in giving.
Nasturtiums beaming brightHydrangea for the homeBay leaf cuttingsYellow amsonia leaves in the foreground and in the back.Before and after. Thinning out the Solidago.
