Monday 26 November 2012

A Year in the Life of a Lady Gardener - November

Every morning I wake up and the world is a little darker. The view beyond the window is gloomy, not at all likely to entice me to step outside and see to garden chores. In fact, I have done very little since the beginning of the month, when I pruned the rose borders, cutting out scores of sprays in bud, leaving only a very few blooms which were fully out, in sheltered spaces. It always saddens me when I have to cut out hundreds of buds, but there’s no point leaving them. Trying to produce flowers in the cold season weakens the bushes and the harsh winds raking the garden at this time of year rock their roots. I have lost roses because I couldn’t bring myself to prune their luxuriant growth - as I thought at the time - now I know better. These will be finished soon, their leaves are tatty and the flower heads look better in this photo than in real life.






I have said before that every garden should have plants which die beautifully, you might say, mortality planned for and designed to please.

Structure is very important; a garden without good bones is as unattractive as a human pudding face.

There are very few flowers in late autumn and winter; but there are flowering shrubs like the wonderfully scented winter honeysuckle and sweet box. Viburnums are good too, fragrant Viburnum bodnantense flowers throughout winter into spring. No garden of any size should be without at least one.

And then there are the evergreens. At any other time of year they can be a little dour and heavy-lidded. They are best added to the garden with a light touch. Many people are not fond of the variegated varieties, but I have elaeagnus, euonymous and junipers, as well as a very few strategically placed conifers








But my favourites are the grasses, tall ones and short ones, golden, red, or purple ones. They all die back beautifully and provide a wonderful rustling sound in the wind.

This tall miscanthus sounds like waves on the seashore and I wouldn’t dream of cutting back the stall, swaying stems, which deepen from bright green to metallic grey and pale straw during their life and death.

Yellow, red, pink, purple and pale lemon coloured dogwoods also brighten my view from the kitchen window. The leaves take on very attractive colours during autumn but are short-lived, leaving these vibrantly hued stems behind. Come dreary January, I cut  some and bring them into the house; they last for weeks and add colour once the Christmas glitter has been discarded.


Upright phormiums from New Zealand add structure to a sodden flower bed. Before the onset of real winter I tie the leaves together low. Phormiums are fairly hardy but rain can get into their centres and when the water freezes it can kill the plant.
Some varieties are hardier than others, it helps to find out which are suitable for your climate.







There are many other plants which can give life to the garden in winter. Think of berries for the birds, crab apples, coloured and/or peeling  bark on trees, and thick, variegated holly bushes - or hedges - which provide shelter for birds and insects. I have a gigantic stump of a dead sycamore along the drive, totally smothered by ivy, with a huge climbing rose clinging on too, which allows a vast range of life to overwinter and gives me something to look at when all else seems dead.



37 comments:

  1. I often think at this time of the year that it is amazing that only a couple of months ago I was cooking outside and enjoying it.

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  2. The textures and muted colours of winter give a depth of beauty to your garden which must be the envy of all us garden-less townies! A real tribute to your green fingers. ♥

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  3. Food for my spirit.

    'Trying to produce flowers in the cold season weakens the bushes and the harsh winds raking the garden at this time of year rock their roots.'

    More than once, you have gifted me with words that I might snip from your garden and bring into my own hearth. I am sharing this post with my mother, also a lady gardener of deep understanding.

    My heart thanks you, Fri.

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  4. heerlijk zo met zoveel liefde over je tuin te spreken.

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  5. I know next to nothing about winter gardens, but am fascinated by the idea of them. Who'd have thought there was such a thing as winter honeysuckle! It is a great joy to walk through your garden with you, Friko!

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  6. You still have lovely roses! I'm longing for some frost or snow!

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  7. These words make me want to go out into the chilly day and do some gardening. I love reading here...it's like poetry.
    Balisha

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  8. We spent money for a helper to have us dig out the 20 or so miscanthus grasses because they have been labeled invasives in our area and I do see them throughout the woods. I need to replant the line with something else in the spring. And yes, I still need to prune the roses. But it will be 50 at the end of this week, so I can do it then.

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  9. nice....should die beautifully...ha...i know what you are saying there...one of the things i rather love about fall....

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  10. I hadn't thought about a garden going through a life cycle in the way I do after reading this before. And you're right to see beauty year-round, for if you only marvelled at it in Spring and Summer, it may affect your outlook on life in a very negative way in the darker, colder months.

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  11. Oh I wish I would know as much about gardening as you do dear Frisko! The fruit of your knowledge can clearly be seen in your little paradise all year round! :-)

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  12. It does seem painful chopping roses off when they're still trying to flower. Especially when nearly all the other flowers have just pegged out and died. Your garden still looks beautiful. I think seed heads look wonderful this time of the year too.

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  13. Friko- You remind me to appreciate the balmy breezes! Though I find so much beauty in your post... Thank you for sharing with us.


    Aloha to YOU
    from Honolulu
    Comfort Spiral

    ~ > < } } ( ° >

    > < 3 3 3 ( ' >

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  14. I also love my fall/winter garden. There is beauty all around us, we just have to look a little harder.

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  15. Reading about your garden reminds me of home. Out here on the edge the plantings are different, hardier like the people. The dog (wild) roses never cease to astonish me when they grow on beach stones.

    I would love a stay in your garden!!

    XO
    WWW

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  16. I've been thinking of planting some grasses. The ones along the highway this fall between my town and the city were so beautiful.

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  17. You have such great suggestions for garden plants that offer something year-round. I'm marking this one to keep for future reference.

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  18. You have now reminded me that I really do need to go out and prune the roses; a task I try to put off but know, as you so put it, must be done. Your garden is beautiful in November, Friko. Thank you for sharing it.

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  19. Yours is a garden for all seasons. Over here I love the glowing red of the Arbutus bark that brightens the misty winter.

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  20. I once had a neighbor tell me that it takes a genius to create the colors in my garden which was pathetic compared to yours. This post, while leaving me dazzled by the wealth of knowledge you shared with us, also created questions in my mind. I wondered, what did this garden look like when you took it over? Was there any garden at all? Did you created its "bones" yourself? Did you plot it out, or did you get the vision in your head and just create what you saw? How many years have you been at this project? Where did you gain your wealth of knowledge about the plants you have in your garden? I guess I am asking you to write a book on your garden either before or right after you write that memoir.

    I was also struck by the great truth you spoke when you describe your roses during this season. There is a life lesson there. We must recognize the seasons of life and not allow blooming that will sap strength and prevent future growth.

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  21. This cold and wet season your garden is enough bright and has many colors. I love the photo with juniper and euonymous with variegated leaves.I do think that the conifers are the best plants for winter.

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  22. Hi Friko - one visit to Bodnant and I immediately recognise the Viburnum name - and it does have the most wonderful scent during the winter months as the sprays burst open ..

    You've described our Autumn gardens wonderfully and when I was at Bateman's the other day .. I was totally enamoured by the lichens and mosses showing their colours in our wet dark autumn .. just delighted me to look at them.

    We need some cheering up in these gloomy days - thanks for the garden highlights - love them ... you're such a good reference point ... cheers Hilary

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  23. This growing darkness is a bummer. We kept the bedroom clock on summer time and actually it works quite well! seems to give an extra hour in the day. Maybe I was sleeping more than I needed before...

    the garden is just losing the last of its autumnal feeling, and settling down for winter. But I found some wonderful fungi and lichens recently.

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  24. I just finished cleaning up my planting beds. Your garden is amazing
    Hugs
    SUeAnn

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  25. i keep promising that next year i will start taking my garden seriously, but it always comes down to all the expensive work that needs doing before i can even start

    Mind you, our garden gets covered in leaves around this time of year, so i don't understand why they stop the brown (garden waste) bins just before they properly fall

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  26. I love the idea about having plants that die beautifully. Grasses are splendid -- I love the photos of yours. Every year I think I should plant some and never do, but how lovely they are. I like what we call "seedums" (I don't know their real name). They begin as lovely green buds, then pink flowers when fall comes and even after it turns cold, the blooms stay, turning brown, but still there. When I cut things back, I can never bear to cut those!

    Your corner of the world is lovely. Lady Gardener, I salute you!

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  27. Dear Friko, you are a true gardener. You've studied how to structure and enhance a garden and what to plant for the best effect in various seasons. I used to have several perennial gardens and said I loved to garden, but when I reach your postings I realize that I merely dabbled in gardening. A mere dilettante. You, however, are like Amy Lowell--except she liked a white garden and yours boasts a multitude of color. Peace.

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  28. Beautifully written Friko. Snowdrops are up here and blooming too. Meanwhile many of the Helleborus have put up new foliage. I found babies too.

    I planted miniature bulbs in pots and the critters dug them up and then left them lying on top of the soil as they were looking for tulips and none were to be found. I will plant the crocuses later in winter.

    Otherwise, dark, dreary and rainy here and I dream of distant distant sandy shores with blue skies. Dianne

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  29. Two things in this post just made my day--"...every garden should have plants which die beautifully," and "...unattractive as a human pudding face." I feel a story coming on ;) :)

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  30. The remains of our garden are just lumps under the snow, but some of your ideas might just work here. We'll try next season.

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  31. I like the idea of vegetation dying beautifully. We should all be that lucky.

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  32. Your garden is a delight and always looks so beautiful , happy and well cared for .
    But perhaps this terribly dark and misty autumn you should have left a far corner untended . Full of winding branches , thorns and a dropping crimson rose , it would have been very Arthur Rackham ....

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  33. Up here everything would be covered with snow during the winter, so there wouldn't be much to see. Yours looks beautiful as it wanes. I can see why it would be hard to cut all the roses. :)

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  34. Like my mother you are a gardener to your finger-tips, Friko. This ability to see the shape and structure as well as the detail and plan beauty at even the most unpromising time of the year is true art.

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  35. I seem to have fallen far behind, and I may have to make my mind up to not being able to catch up! But I have read and all three posts since I last looked--of course here is where I lingered, getting a chance to see another season of your glorious garden. As for the wet--yes, you've had far more than your portion! And as for the ladies, another chapter in your rural tales book, don't you think? About the shorter days, in preparing my little current post, I thumbed my way through every Dickinson poem in the Franklin edition of complete poems, stopping here and there as one caught my eye. I was looking for something suitable for late autumn that wasn't somber. For the most part impossible. I came away with a definite impression that Dickinson suffered from S.A.D. The edu-mate countered that it was probably just really, really cold where she lived. Hard to argue with that one!

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