"Gardening is an instrument of grace." —May Sarton
I went outside one morning between rain storms to cut some flowers for the kitchen. At the time what was blooming were white Shasta daisies, yellow daisy-like flowers that have spread beyond the two plants my sister-in-law gave me, purple salvia, some zinnias and purple coneflowers. The early spring flowers were long gone and the fall flowers - rose of Sharon, sedum - were still in bud.
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| Garden flowers - zinnias, yellow daisies, goldenrod, coleus, coneflower. (Margo D. Beller) |
When we bought our house decades ago, the area in front of the bay window was flanked by two large rhododendrons and three azalea shrubs between them. At the side of the house were drifts of daffodils. In the back was a plot of the ground cover pachysandra. There was no patio, no paving-stone walkway. In the front, the dirt path had large flat stones for walking to the front door. I don't remember if anything was growing along that walkway.
Then we had to have major work done on the foundation. All those plants I mentioned above - gone. I regretted losing those daffodils and the rhododendrons.
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| The rhododendron I planted. (Margo D. Beller) |
So when the work was done and it was time to plant a new garden I had to take into consideration zoning rules (a "park-like" lawn on the 35-foot setback that came nearly to the house), whether the plants needed sun or shade and, especially important for me, what kind of pretty flowers would they produce.
I planted a rhododendron where one of the previous owner's plants had been. I flanked the area with two rose of Sharons. In between were a row of yellow and green euonymous shrubs and purple asters at the front. I was not thinking in terms of perennials vs. annuals or how fall-blooming plants like asters would look in the spring. Like the plants, my thinking would eventually change.
Along the now-bricked front walkway I put in azaleas. In back, small yew shrubs. Where the daffodils had been, some andromeda bushes.
It didn't take long before I started learning about the animals that roamed the property, especially rabbits and deer.
After too many mornings when I discovered a rabbit nibbling on the asters, I bought a small fence to keep them away. That sorta worked (and thanks to the increase in the fox population I haven't seen a rabbit in the yard in years). But then I'd see damage to the asters and the euonymous shrubs and figured out something bigger was stepping over the low fence and helping itself.
I can't remember how long it took to figure out I had a deer problem. I started reading about deer and what they are likely to eat, and quickly realized I had created a veritable White Castle for Odocoileus virginianus.
Columbine (with seedheads) that sprung up between euonymous shrubs.
(Margo D. Beller)
There are ways to deter deer. You can continually spray foul-tasting stuff on your plants, you can get a dog to patrol the property and pee in the garden so the deer smell it and stay away from a potential predator, you can put up barriers such as a fence or you can plant things that a deer is generally presumed not to like (but I've found will try anyway).
I eschewed the spray and I don't have a dog, so I went with fencing and plants - such as ornamental grasses and onions - in areas where I didn't put up a fence.
After the azaleas stopped blooming I realized having just these plants looked boring, So I planted low juniper bushes between each azalea to make it more interesting. I discovered the joy of daffodils when a now-former neighbor insisted I fill a bucket with them after her son-in-law rescued hundreds from a garden crew that had dug them up from an office park. I bought more daffodils and got even more from a friend who said she didn't want them in her garden. Eventually daffodils were planted with ferns between the andromedas as well as in the spaces when the junipers eventually died.
The asters eventually died, too. I planted hyacinths, crocus and glory-of-the-snow and lilies. A friend gave me some goldenrod and snowdrops. A charity mailed me a packet of Shasta daisy seeds, most of which have sprouted. These are all behind deer fencing.
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| Fencing protecting yews. Behind them are the hostas. (Margo D. Beller) |
From an annual plant fair I bought butterfly bush, butterfly weed and hellebore. After several attempts to grow black-eyed susans failed I succeeded with purple coneflowers. I found columbine that had produced seedheads in a vacant lot about to be built over. These seeds have produced daughter plants everywhere I've spread them and beyond. I did not, to my regret, rescue a peony so I bought one that has flowered beautifully each spring.
I bought a hydrangea bush to remind me of my parents' garden, but between the deer trying to eat it and the chipmunks tunneling underneath it didn't last.
I planted joe-pye weed that grew 10-feet tall and threatened to overwhelm the bay window plot so I had to move them. They did ok after the move but they are now gone. The ornamental grasses I planted did much better than the Scotch brooms and lavenders I tried in the backyard.
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| Joe-pye in the wild. My experiment with them did not turn out as well. (Margo D. Beller) |
When a friend was breaking up her garden she begged me to take some of her plants, so I took irises, lily of the valley, astilbe, perennial geranium, fringed bleeding heart, yarrow, bishop's weed, monarda, vinca and several hostas. These plants have since been moved several times or have died, either because they reached their mortal limits or because they became so invasive I had to pull them out. Some of those that died I replaced with the same type of plant.
In the case of the hostas I tried to get rid of as many as possible after the time deer ripped through the netting and nearly destroyed the potted plants, which I'd foolishly put in front. I now have two hostas hidden behind other plants. The others I gave away.
And, of course, there are always weeds.
For my fencing I started with heavy metal poles I could never get fully in the ground. Then I discovered thin metal poles coated in green plastic that had no hooks. These don't last as long but I can hammer them into the ground. I developed a way of attaching the netting with green plastic garden ties, looping the top of the netting around the top of the poles. I also moved the low fence, putting it around my compost pile.
May Sarton wrote about her garden in her journals. She had vast drifts of flowers at her place in York, Maine. I don't remember her complaining about deer or about overdevelopment or climate change making the Earth too hot and changing when those flowers bloomed and when bees, birds and other pollenators would be stopping by to feed.
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| Perennial geranium I bought and potted, and a hosta I kept that is not yet hidden by the yew. (Margo D. Beller) |
But all that is happening now. With so-called development wiping out natural areas for residential and commercial lots the increasing deer populations gather and eat in small garden plots and suburban yards because there are no woods anymore (or predators that have been wiped out, or fear of being shot where people are now living).
Meanwhile, the planet is getting hotter and plants are blooming before insects and birds can pollenate them. In years of massive insect populations the leaves of many plants are turned into lace. In other years, like this one, there has been so much rain my dogwood bloomed and the red spider mites were kept away from the flowers. Our recent heatwaves have been punctuated with massive downpours turning the street into a river and our driveway into a tributary.
The perennials have been growing in my garden long enough to be used to the conditions and can take care of themselves, which is fine for me. Annuals don't do nearly as well so next year's garden won't have them. If climate change makes my garden evolve into a desert or a floodplain, so be it. The garden (and I) will deal with it.
