Nator's Maters

By: Vivinator

Oct 16 2011

Category: Garden, Seasons

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Twice a year – every year – I encounter a very difficult task. I have to take my little spade and dig out beds full of flowers and throw them out. They don’t look tired or weak – they often look to be at peak performance. It’s kind of painful.

Annuals.

The trick with annuals is to plan ahead. In the fall, even though the marigolds look so stunning with the pumpkins and mums, if I don’t get the pansies into their warm little beds soon enough, they won’t have time to fill out before the weather turns too cold. I’ll have puny little pansies skimpily dotting the barren winter yard. In the spring, while these same pansies are flourishing in complimentary cheer amidst flowering shrubs and trees, it’s essential to end their season all too soon in order for the subsequent marigolds and petunias to get a good foothold before the berating heat of the southern summer.

Today was the big switch out and cleanup day. I cleaned out the last big batch of summer weeds along with the marigolds and basil. I had procrastinated a bit this year, particularly in the tomatoes.

After a hot summer of drought, we finally saw a boom in tomatoes in late August. Most of these are still green and I wanted to leave them on the vine as long as possible. Last week, when my Sasanqua began blooming, I realized the last days of summer were truly gone, and I’d have to make use of my tomatoes in their green state. (time to pull out the green tomato and lemon marmalade recipe.)

So I packed away the tomato cages and estimated about 6 months before I see them again. It’s a bit of a sad time saying goodbye to another season in the garden. However, after some more pruning and the introduction of a new batch of pansies, it’s also very satisfying to step back and see the cleaned up beds and imagine how next year will be even more beautiful.

I also hold out hope that next year’s tomato crop will be more successful than the last! Every year it’s the same… I say that smiling, of course. In a complicated world I love the simplicity of the garden, and even if weather patterns are completely whackadoo – as they were this year – there’s a comfort in the predictability of it.