A Conversation With My Garden
By Julie McElroy

Bittersweet, this time of year.   Yes, my body is sore and tired of digging and I might like to spend an afternoon reading, but my plant buddies are calling.  On a beautiful, warm, sunny fall day like today it is hard to believe that any day now my garden will be covered in snow and everything will look dead.   But right now, my mind is racing with which veggies are still producing and what shall I fix for dinner.

And, oh yes, the trees and shrubs need to be deep watered before the ground freezes and the cover crop needs to be turned and the compost added to the beds.  What shall I pull up and what might make it another week?  Because the perennial beds and grasses are showing vivid fall colors and the bees are attacking the fall asters and getting the last of the pollen before they retire for the winter.   I can’t take their food away yet, can I?  But if I wait I will have a lot more work in the spring.  Plus I will have double the plants that seed everywhere and although they are gorgeous this time of year, other beauties disappear under the crowding.  Note to self-pull them before they go to seed.

So, I wander around with the garden hose, talking to the kolkwitzia, remembering the name and how my friend Amy showed me how to identify her because the spent flowers look like headless chickens.  And asking the beautybush why she has such a vibrant color while her sister a few feet away is still green.

Friends suggest that I might like listening to a book on tape while working in the yard, but then how could I have a conversation with my plants?  And would I be able to remember to check on the status of the pears.  Are they ripe enough to pick?  Time is running out.  Did the deer get the apples before they tasted better with a slight frost?

Oh, hello to the larch that seems to have survived a rubbing and grew a new leader.  You’ve been my friend for 15 years now.  I think you might really get to grow up.  And there’s the London Planetree that Marcia suggested I plant, also many years ago.  It didn’t fare as well when it was visited by a deer or moose, so now it’s a bush, but still green, right?  So it gets a soaking too.

Dump the wheelbarrows and turn and water the compost, put the hoses away and clean and store the tools.  Oh wait, you still have to plant the garlic, so get it all out again.

Yikes, is that a snowflake I see?  Whew, it’s just a group of white flies, reminding me that I have to wash off and bring in the tropical hibiscus before frost.  But now I am going to take a little nap, right after I make a new to-do list.