As seasons change, gardeners receive information from many sources advising them about items that should appear on their seasonal to-do list. Often, what ensues is a frantic notion there exists a small window of opportunity for completing the tasks lest our gardens suffer.
The horticultural rebel in me takes the position that sometimes less is more. Therefore, I would like to share with you what I will not be doing in my garden now that we are past the autumnal equinox.
Because my landscape is dominated by shrubs, vines and perennials, I do not feel the urge to have a continual display of seasonal fall color, as it were. Preferring to appreciate perennials that bloom in their own time throughout the year,
I relish the anticipation of observing Gulf Coast penstemon with its lavender-pink, spring blooms resembling tiny bells; and the late-summer, velvety purple, arching spikes of Mexican bush sage. You will not see large plantings of cool-season annuals such as pansies or snapdragons in my landscape. I will not succumb to the orange, yellow or rust-colored chrysanthemums that seem to dominate every big box and grocery store’s outdoor display.
It is not that I dislike these plants – I cannot think of a species I actually hate. But I find their scent to be rather obnoxious, and their blooms too short-lived. They could be transplanted into the garden, but there is just so much room I am willing to dedicate to them.
In the past several years, edible ornamentals such as Swiss chard and kale have popped up in garden beds and planted in containers along with seasonal flowering annuals. These, too, have become overused, but at least one could eat them.
When our English forebears arrived in the New World, they brought with them their landscaping rulebooks. Included was the opinion that gardens remain tidy, especially in the formal estates of the emerging American aristocracy. Hence the need to trim shrubs to conform to geometric shapes – round as a lollipop, square as a box, or triangular as a pyramid or cone.
Any spent blooms or leafless branches were quickly removed. Lawns were carefully trimmed to resemble the emerald carpets to which we aspire today. For many the perception remains that at the end of a growing season a garden must be cleared of any lifeless vegetation.
Recently, I drove past a home whose landscape was cleared of its messiness. Sadly, the rather barren garden beds were left with only the stick remnants of chopped perennials.
In my yard, I will leave seed heads on the purple coneflower and brown-eyed Susan and allow the arching stalks of inland sea oats to keep their dangling seed clusters, all the better to fill the bellies of hungry migrating birds. The native grasses will continue to display their golden-tan luster and give shelter to beneficial insects.
I will not jump to prune late summer and fall blooming shrubby perennials such as white mist flower, but rather wait until late winter or early spring. Should I choose to prune spring blooming shrubs now, flowering will be reduced or eliminated. Cutting back will occur once the blooms begin to die.
Landscape designers speak of a garden’s structure or its “bones,” the unchanging structural framework that works to organize the shrubs and perennials.
Once plants are dormant and deciduous species lose their foliage, it is a good time to assess the landscape’s overall appearance. Perhaps taller shrubs might be incorporated to one side or a tree added near low-growing vegetation to add interest and balance to the view by varying the heights. An area might benefit from assorted built structures such as a trellis or arbor.
Cooler temperatures and less mosquito swatting enable more garden evaluation as I decide to leave behind many typical fall landscape chores. I marvel at the plants that made it through our dry spells with minimal watering, make note of the “bully” habit of firespike that expanded to shade out the cobalt blue hue of black and blue salvia, and give thanks for the reseeding purple coneflower. Had I been too quick to tidy up last fall, I would have missed the coneflower’s pink polka dots of color that now punctuate my garden border.
Chris LaChance is WaterSmart Coordinator for the Texas AM AgriLife Extension Service and Texas Sea Grant. WaterSmart is funded by a grant from Houston Endowment Inc. Contact Chris at c-lachance@tamu.edu. This column is sponsored by Urban Harvest. To find out more about community gardens, school gardens, farmers markets and gardening classes, visit www.urbanharvest.org.
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