The story of mankind began in a garden and ended in revelations. ~Oscar Wilde
1 Oct. Turned on the air conditioner last night, fighting what will surely be our final battle with summer heat and humidity. And today proved to meet expectations: hot and sultry. By the time I finished my first round of gardening at Coe about 10:15, I was drenched in sweat. Returning to the garden at 3:00, my fresh t-shirt was soon soaking wet. But a cold front is about to roll through. I suspect the Wickiup garden had a heavy rain this afternoon and more is on the way later tonight and tomorrow. Temps are supposed to drop 15-20 degrees, back to more normal weather for the first week in October.
One project I completed today was gathering about 20 river rocks from a Physical Plant rock pile. I used some for securing the bases for three Nelson sculptures (both mobiles and the 7' steel crane in the rain garden), filled in a row of stone along the wood chip path in the “H” bed, and placed the remainder around portions of the WFS bed in “A1.” Other tasks included cutting back in the “A2" bed the weigela, which has really grown this year, but it has a lot of branches with no leaves. Removing these branches may help the chives that somehow manages to survive in the weigela’s shade. I also cut back the lemon balm, which loves this area–apparently a perfect combination of soil and light–but is overshadowing the toad lilies and anemones I planted last spring. The balm is a good foliage plant for this location, but it needs to be restrained so it’s not overpowering its less assertive neighbors.
4 Oct. Worked at Coe for two hours this afternoon, mostly cleaning up the corner where the “K” and “L” beds meet, an area that earlier this morning received some transplanted baby hollyhocks. I trimmed old leaves on the brunnera behind the NW bench so visitors can see the fresher, greenhish-silver leaves. Cut back the apple tree suckers and dug out several thistles. I also removed several small volunteer roses: they are relentless, their determination (and use of buried roots) similar to the thistles. There is a line of deeply buried thistle roots underneath two raised vegetable beds at Wickiup that keep sending up new plants among the eggplants and winter spinach.
While I was weeding, two women walked out of the Alumni House, perhaps alums here for an alum event. One woman said to the other, “This is pretty,” a compliment that made me feel unexpectedly sad. Although the garden is such a complex environment, it’s inevitable that most visitors will reduce a quick glance to the pretty, the picturesque. I should not be offended. Pretty is better than ugly. And when I first walk into an unfamiliar garden, my initial response would almost certainly be a broad assessment of the space’s attractiveness. But I yearn for occasional visitors who see more than a “pretty face.” It’s becoming harder for me to see the garden as simply “pretty.” And I know the perception of beauty is beyond my control. It’s like trying to write a beautiful poem or essay: the reader will make the judgement on what is good or not good, beautiful or not beautiful. My job as a writer or a gardener is to create in ways that are as clean and precise and coherent as possible.
Oh, Adam was a gardener, and God who made him sees
That half a proper gardener’s work is done upon his knees,
So when your work is finished, you can wash your hands and pray
For the Glory of the Garden, that it may not pass away!
And the Glory of the Garden it shall never pass away!
~Rudyard Kipling
The complete Fall 2020 Garden Kalendar is available as a pdf.