Saying Goodbye to the Garden

HOW DOES YOUR GARDEN GROW

By Kit Flynn
Columnist

Recently, friends have asked me what it’s like to say goodbye to the garden—and it has been surprisingly easy. Because gardens are never completed, my garden has been a continual work in progress for the past thirty-three years. There are always new plants to add, old ones that die off, and new ideas that suddenly pop up in the gardener’s brain.

Some of my reactions have surprised me. For the past twenty-five years, January’s highlight has been the arrival of Tony Avent’s Plant Delights spring catalog. I would open it with glee, carefully marking with a yellow marker all those plants that caught my fancy. At this point in this yearly ritual, money was no object. 

As the garden filled up, I had to be more selective as it’s hard to place a palm in a space appropriate for a daylily. Still, a girl can daydream. After I had mentally spent way more than I could afford by marking up the catalog, reality would set in, causing me to trim back my potential order by at least half. Always, I would include a plant that I’d never heard of, some working out well while others demonstrated why they were unfamiliar as they rapidly disappeared.

This year, the catalog arrived – and I have yet to look at it. When you have neither a garden nor space, plant catalogs do not make for enjoyable daydreaming. 

Everyone assures me that the garden will not survive, that someone will probably buy the house only to mow it down because they want an established lawn. I think, “Surely they won’t remove the windmill palm that began life as a two-foot baby and now soars over twenty feet in height.” “Surely, they will omit the Korean sweetheart tree (Euscaphus japonica) from the chopping block.” 

And then I remembered that not everyone wants a palm tree in their garden and might want to play croquet instead. Not everyone succumbs to the charms of Euscaphus japonica – in fact, the majority of the population doesn’t even know how special it is.

Such are the fears for my garden. Will the realtor remember to water the two potted fatsias by the front door (he wants them to remain)? Will someone even care that they must be planted in the ground after their second year in a pot?

I find that King Charles and I have something in common – we both talk to our plants. I had never been a plant talker before, but I find that I’m now going around to my favorite plants (at least the ones that are visible) so that I can mention how much I have enjoyed them. Yes, it does feel a bit weird to be yakking away while situated in front of a daylily just beginning to push up its leaves, but how else can I get my thanks across to any of them? How else can I tell the ‘Kit’s Circus Wagon’ daylily that I have treasured her?

The weather has eased the process of saying goodbye. January is usually rather dismal, but February is almost always a delightful month with the sun returning, the temperatures rising and the plants displaying emergence after their long winter’s nap. This February has been cold, with our third snowfall arriving, accompanied by the advance of another polar vortex. 

The temperatures have not cooperated. As I write this, the temperature this morning began at 20°, which does not encourage spring growth. It’s easy to say goodbye to the garden under these conditions as there really is little to which to wave farewell (an awkward sentence in an effort not to end it with a preposition).

And then suddenly the temperature rises to 70°. The Camellia japonica perk up as their buds were not destroyed by the polar vortex. The air has changed as spring is in the offing – and I remember how exciting the garden is in February. The roses are sprouting new growth. Bulbs I had forgotten I’d planted are poking their heads out of the ground.

This year the garden is behind last year’s garden by a good two weeks. I am scheduled to move in a matter of weeks. Will I see the glories of spring in the garden before I leave? Hopefully, a rose will peek out to say goodbye.

My garden is nicknamed “Organized Chaos.” Will it be too cluttered for the next owner or will the new owner embrace it? Surely, they won’t chop down the camellias and the heavenly Viburnums. Surely, they will permit the rose ‘Dark Desire’ to reach the eleven feet of height she so desires – or will they treat her like an ordinary hybrid tea and chop her back to one foot in height?

Questions remain. Will the three Rosa ‘Tausenschon’ planted two years ago finally live up to their promise? Hopefully the new owners will not practice “Crepe Murder” on the two ‘Tonto’ crapemyrtles so carefully nurtured in the backyard. Will they appreciate the ‘Taylor’s Pink Perfection’ camellia that is neither a sasanqua nor a japonica?

Then amid the swirling questions I have, I tell myself to relax as the future of the garden is out of my hands – as it should be.

Spring really is coming!