Bare Bones: The Garden In Winter

I’ve spent the last five years clearing the most incredibly nasty weeds and invasive plants from in front of a long and ancient stone wall, 30 feet a season, replacing wild rose, poison ivy, baby burning bushes and bittersweet ( bane of my existence) with rosebay rhododendron, piles of different viburnum, clethra, fothergilla and amelanchier, to name a few. These are the “bones” of the border, and among them I place perennials, knowing that many of these will move on in three years or so, when the young shrubs have really taken off. That saying about plants is true: first year – sleep, second year- creep, third year – leap. Remember that the next time you’re considering placing those baby hostas fifteen inches apart…

The snow and ice finally melted in Monday’s rain storm, so on lovely, sunny Wednesday I meandered past sleeping borders to see how the winter has been treating my babies since the last time I saw the ground the week before Christmas. No animal damage, thankfully, and only a few twigs and small branches snapped from the trees above me – Nature performing the tiniest bit of self-pruning on happy, healthy plants.

It’s funny that we call this the dead of Winter. No one is dead, only taking a much deserved and much needed nap. And nap time is the perfect time for you to get a really good look at your garden. Everything is laid out clearly in front of you, without the distraction of leaf or flower or – gasp!- weed. And if you haven’t cut grasses or other perennials to the ground, you have an even better grasp of what your garden is, and what it wants to be. Look at that empty spot (this is my favorite part)- what would look wonderful growing there? Will anyone need pruning in a month or two? Who needs to be transplanted?

If you aren’t sure when or how is the best time to prune or transplant, write to me here and I’ll get the answer for you.

Take notes about your garden. Make little sketches. Put everything in your garden journal to revisit in early spring, or sooner. What! You don’t keep a garden journal? Then you don’t know that January of 2003 broke records for cold, or that January of 2007 broke records for drought, or that on last January 28th snow turned to rain. Shame on you. We’ll talk about this again.