No, I haven’t dropped off the face of the earth. It’s been a crazy winter and an even crazier spring, so I haven’t been writing as much. However, this weekend I’m out in my garden for the first time this season, taking stock of things, and what I’m finding has motivated me to write.
It was a tough winter and spring for plants. The early freeze last fall damaged a lot of Rhododendrons, and the deer got at many of the rest. On NH’s Seacoast, there was precious little snow cover, so the plants didn’t get insulated from the freeze-thaw cycles that followed, and then the spring was so wet that things rotted. The deer, who will usually stay away from certain plants, munched away indiscriminately, despite the fact that without the snow, much more food was available and they could have been choosy. It was the worst winter for deer damage that many have ever seen.
In my garden, I’m noticing gaps where things are missing. My Shasta daisies, which we usually refer to as “cockroaches” because they will survive anything, are shadows of their former selves, if they are there at all. The Lavender is history. My Nepeta is mostly gone- Nepeta! Another cockroach! It boggles the imagination. Weirdly, the roses are looking lovely, and the ferns have gone bezerk, perhaps because they enjoy the moist “English” weather. The irises are everywhere, now.
Professionally, clients are confused. Some are upset, understandably, that their investment has been eaten, or rotted, or just not come back as healthily as we all would have liked. I feel their pain. Unfortunately, neither landscape designers nor landscapers can predict what sort of unusual weather will come next these days, or what the deer will eat or not eat. I used to feel that I could put plants in a garden that would reliably be left alone by the deer; not any more. The landscape, quite literally, is changing.
So what is a homeowner to do? Well, I would politely ask that first and foremost, they not blame their landscaper or landscape designer. While we can certainly be blamed for bad planting decisions like placing a hosta in full sun, we can’t control weather or animals, and are always struggling to contend with both. However, we can be your best source of information when it comes to keeping up with the changing times. We read articles. We talk with colleagues and friends about what has and hasn’t worked in the garden. We discuss this A LOT. And most importantly, we are in gardens, either our clients’ or our own, each and every day and we see what is going on from all different perspectives. We see that Mrs. Smith’s catawbiense Rhododendron got eaten by deer, but Mrs. Jones’ yakushimanum Rhododendron didn’t. We will notice that boxwoods did well in one spot but not another. And we know about plants and their needs and are able to draw conclusions from these observations, and adapt accordingly. So while we aren’t able to guarantee the success of replacement plants with respect to animal damage and extreme weather, we can certainly help with choices that will have the best chance of doing well. We are your best front line of defense.
In my own garden, while I’m sorry to see plants go, I consider every death an opportunity. The loss of a large stand of Shasta Daisies allowed me to plant a funky evergreen called Thuja ‘Whipcord’, a funny looking, dreadlock-covered shrub that looks like it’s about to scuttle across the garden muttering darkly to itself. It makes me happy in ways that the Shasta Daisies never would have. And while there is all that space devoid of plants, I’m taking the opportunity to lay down cardboard to smother the Goutweed which thought the winter was just fine, thank you very much, and is making an enthusiastic bid to take over the world.
I’m letting the buttercups flower this year. They are pretty, and I can deal with their invasiveness later. In the mean time, they are filling the gap left by the Nepeta. I keep reminding myself, and others, that gardening is a film, not a still picture. Weather patterns change. Gardens become more or less shady, and so the growing conditions can cause one plant to die out while another thrives. This transience is one of the reasons I love gardening and designing gardens, because there is always a chance to try something new. So don’t worry, it will be all right. Go with the flow, ask the advice of experts, and don’t forget to enjoy the movie!
(PS. There’s a lovely Iris called “Buttered Popcorn” that you can even have with it.)