Ink & Penstemon

Whence February? Even with an extra day, it’s gone and here we are in Farch, when even if something is flowering, I avoid tromping out through the soft mud to gaze at it because I’d just be compacting the soil. Any late winter blooming plant must meet the requirement of being able to be admired from afar, preferably from the warmth of the living room. 

Farch also means there’s more work ahead. I tried to get a jump on things in February as it’s the quietest season in the garden for me. On the checklist was pruning the espaliered apples and the standard “Red Delicious.” I’ve mentally laid an axe at the latter’s trunk as it appears to be quickly succumbing to something fungal. The grape vine over the arbor needs a trim still; I’d better get on it before its sap starts to run. Februrary was for winter sowing seed. I took to winter sowing in the milk jugs a little more enthusiastically than normal. A downside to a huge “juggery” means that it takes a long time to remove and replace all of those lids to water. It’s been snowing recently, so there has been some reprieve on that front.

I’ve also come to the realization that I’m beginning to collect trees and shrubs. It started a couple of years ago with the Salix chaenomeloides ‘Mt. Aso’ cutting I got from Michael Dodge’s Vermont Willow Nursery. Then I uprooted the Hamamelis x intermedia ‘Diane’ and potted it up. Then I ordered a Cercis chinensis ‘Don Egolf’ to replace the lilacs I’m taking out. Revisiting Lauren Springer-Ogden’s second edition of The Undaunted Garden really got me wanting a dwarf “Garden Annie” Apricot tree. So I now have four trees, all kicking around in pots on the property as I have no idea where to put them permanently. The Salix, Apricot, and Witchhazel are all vying for the same spot under the canopy of the Honey Locust. Trouble is only one can go there and then what to do with the other two? And there are still other trees I would like, but my greed is only checked by the reality of one-fifth-of-an-acre and a desire for some mass perennial plantings.

Trees also get in the way of my dream shrub-steppe planting. Besides the obvious problem of shade and root-thuggery is the annual dumping of leaves. This generation of humus is normally beneficial, but can be deadly for dry-land plants, so it must be raked. It only becomes more onerous when it has to be raked off gravel mulch. If the leaf litter is fine, then it’s hopeless. 

But, when you grow up on the steppe, where trees are few and far between, you long for them. And when you find yourself in a place with a deep, sandy loam approaching a neutral pH, you go a bit tree mad. Water conservationists be damned. Telling me to garden a certain way because it’s good for water conservation is a bit like me trying to get my kids to eat their vegetables by telling them “they’re good for you.” You can keep your drought-tolerance with your steamed but unsalted veggies. Give me flowers, fruit, and fall colors. And butter.