Autumn Frenzy

AUTUMN TIPS

 
            In autumn garden writers are bound by strict union rules to wax rhapsodic about the golden light, the gorgeous leaf colors and the gradual winding down of the growing season.  This, of course, is a prelude to the winter union rules that require the creation of reams of eloquent prose about the beauties of exfoliating tree bark, berried shrubs and the naked “bones” of the garden.  It’s a relief when spring rolls around every year because there is only so much rhapsodizing you can do when it is thirty-six degrees outside and sleeting.
            Most hands-on gardeners have little time for poetic reveries in the fall.  For many of us, the pace of life goes from the slower cadences of summer to completely amped up the day after Labor Day and doesn’t slow down until Thanksgiving.  The many necessary garden chores have to be wedged in as time permits.  If you mow your own lawn and/or rake or blow your own leaves, the regular garden chores must be interspersed with those seasonal activities.  Still, bulbs need to go in the ground and houseplants must come indoors.  If you are one of those virtuous souls who lifts your dahlia, canna or elephant ear bulbs or tubers, you must also get around to that.  Vegetable gardeners have to harvest and process the last of the squashes, tomatoes and other good things.  When all is said and done, autumn gardening life can be almost as busy as spring gardening life.  The difference is that while spring gardening is the essence of optimism, fall gardening is usually the essence of desperation as ground-hardening frosts threaten to close in before the last of the tulips have made it into the beds.
            To ease the desperation, I have come up with the following tips:
Prioritize: Watch the weather for nighttime temperatures, which should guide your fall garden activities.  If temperatures start to dip into the low forties, your first priority has to be getting houseplants inside.  I put down newspaper, lift each plant right out of its pot to make sure hitchhiking bugs haven’t gotten cozy in the bottom and then wash the pot.  I reunite pot and plant, trim any dead growth and usually cut back lanky stems.  The plants then go into a sunny south facing window with additional light provided by small clip-on lamps.  If you are strapped for time and hard frost threatens, just make sure to get the plants inside somewhere–even if you have to put them in the cellar or an unheated porch temporarily.
Bulbs: It would be lovely if gardeners had sufficient foresight to buy only the number of bulbs they could plant easily, but this almost never happens.  Addictive substances are somehow streamed from online plant catalogs and infused into the ink of print editions.  These untraceable but effective drugs impel all but the most strong-willed individuals to order vast quantities of daffodils, tulips, alliums and other spring-flowering beauties, with no regard for practical realities.  The boxes arrive and are set aside–frequently until about November first, when panic sets in.  If this happens to you, don’t kick yourself, take the first available fifteen minute time increment and plant daffodils, crocuses and hyacinths.  Tulips can wait until later.  If the ground has already hardened and the Thanksgiving turkey is thawing in the refrigerator, plant your bulbs in containers.  Use the time and space-saving fruitcake method and plant various types of bulbs at different levels in a single large pot.  Large-flowered tulips and daffodils go in about eight inches down and are then covered with a couple of inches of soil.  Smaller bulbs can then be planted atop that soil and covered, with the tiniest snow crocuses planted closest to the very top, at a depth of about three inches.  The bulb-filled pots can be placed in a protected spot outdoors or an unheated garage.  Don’t waste time on guilt, but do put a reminder in your handy electronic device or on your calendar so that you don’t forget these pots in the spring planting/purchasing frenzy.
Dahlias, etc.: If the ground is already frozen hard and you have forgotten to lift and store your dahlias and other tender bulb or rhizomes, you are out of luck.  They will not survive.  However, if your area has had only light frost–enough to blacken the leaves–cut off the stalks close to ground level, dig up the tubers and put them on a piece of newspaper or an old shopping bag to dry out.  After a few days, brush off as much dirt as possible and store them in labeled, vermiculite-filled containers in a cool, dark place.  Plastic storage boxes or closed plastic shopping bags work best.  Check the tubers a couple of times during the winter, opening them for a few hours if the tubers seem damp or spritzing them with a little water if they appear shriveled.  If you are pressed for time, save only favorite varieties or the ones that cost you the most.  This minimizes guilt and optimizes effort.
            Once all of those things are finished, you can sit back and wax rhapsodic about the autumn light or watch in awe as the birches exfoliate.  If you are really behind, you can focus on getting the turkey in the oven for the Thanksgiving feast.  Your fall gardening work will be done.