Major storms take so much from us—lives, homes, security and comfort. Gardens are low on the list of concerns after something as horrific as Hurricane Sandy. But once the debris is cleared away, the power restored, insurance claims filed and repairs underway, many of us will think once again of our gardens.
It is discouraging to look at the remnants of a garden after a severe storm. Flooding b rings layers of silt and debris, wind topples everything and plants get trampled in the clean-up process. At this time of the year, with the growing season at an end, it is especially hard to contemplate a decimated landscape.
Still, we gardeners are used to working hand in hand with Nature, who is much bigger and stronger than any of us. We forget that strength sometimes–so much so that and in good seasons we take credit for Nature’s work. In bad times we rail at it. But whatever we do, we are always close to it.
Now that we have had a harsh reminder of that closeness, what should gardeners do? Work in stages and clear away the debris that you can handle by yourself. Get help for the rest. Once that is done, plant those bulbs that you put in the cellar or the garage to wait out Sandy’s reign of terror. They need to sleep beneath the earth, absorbing the thorough chilling required for optimal spring flowering. If you can’t plant those bulbs in the ground, pot them up and leave the pots outside to overwinter. The potted bulbs will flower at the regular spring time.
If you have lost big trees, parts of your garden may change from shady landscapes to sunny ones. Now is a good time to plan the sun garden of your dreams and figure out where to relocate the shade loving specimens from the old layout. It’s too soon to transplant, but high time to dream. The mail and online catalogs will be upon us before long.
Don’t forget to plan on replacing at least some of the downed trees. Our neighborhoods have lost so many, in this most recent severe storm and in others that have come before. Tight municipal budgets have reduced local officials’ ability to replace trees lost on streets and in public places. These largest of plants do the most for us; purifying air and water, cooling us in summer and shielding us from wind. Emulate Dr. Seuss’ famous Lorax and “speak for the trees.” Think now about new trees on your own property and call your municipality to see if you can contribute funds to help buy and install new street and public specimens.
Be patient. Even if the disaster wiped out your garden, some of its remnants—roots, seeds and bulbs–are waiting beneath the soil. Next spring they will emerge at their appointed times and become part of the new and improved garden you have planned while waiting out the winter. If money is a problem when you are resurrecting your landscape, ask gardening friends for cuttings, divisions and spare plants. Get the word out on social media. You will be amazed at the result. Gardeners are among the most generous people on earth and you may find yourself with new friends as well as new plants. The garden will come back—one way or another—because plants persist. In his book, Weeds, English nature writer Richard Mabey points to the red poppies made famous in John McCrae’s World War I poem “In Flanders Fields,” and describes another plant, rosebay willowherb, that grew unbidden out of World War II bomb craters.
“The devastation of the Second World War nurtured poppies too, but its iconic weed was rosebay willowherb, which unfurled like a purple surf across the bombed-out areas of Britain’s big cities in the summers after the Blitz. It was christened ‘bombweed’ by Londoners, most of whom had never seen the plant before.”
We gardeners, like bombweed, will persist, and next summer will undoubtedly find us tending the edible and ornamental crops that we will plant in the wake of Sandy’s destruction.