Snow finally blankets my landscape. I hear a sigh of relief from the gardens as they seem to pull a blanket of snow up under their chins. It is time to sleep at last.
The snow is our friend. It keeps the plants asleep during the winter or dormant season. It insulates them from the fluctuations of temperature. The plant crowns prefer constant conditions. Cold is fine for our hardy plants as long as it remains steady. The snow performs the function of insulation.
Our acreage sits on a hill, a very windy hill. No snow cover in the winter together with extreme wind chill temperatures pose problems for garden plants. It is not unusual in Iowa to have very cold winters with little snow. Many people here say, “If it’s going to be cold, it might as well snow.” For plants, this is definitely true.
Mulching gardens with compost, shredded leaves or wood mulch helps protect the plant crowns. Additional winter mulches which need to be removed in the early spring are straw and evergreen boughs. I used to mulch my perennial beds with straw, but as the gardens grew this became impractical. Using a four-season mulch, watering during droughts, watering new plants throughout their first year and leaving fallen leaves on the gardens until the spring give the plants an excellent chance to survive the winter. When I use more tender plants, I will add winter mulch that I remove in late March or early April. For my roses I have used top soil, straw or fall leaves around the base of the plants.
These photos of my garden show the beauty of the garden in winter. The strong contrast of darks and lights is dramatic. The evergreen boxwood and dwarf conifers add color this time of year and illustrate the garden structure. The huge spruce and white pine serve the same roles on a grand scale.
During fall cleanup we edit the garden, leaving the spent plants that will catch the snow in a beautiful way. Plants with seed heads, such as coneflowers, asters, black-eyed Susans and native and ornamental grasses have been left standing. Woody shrubs, such as hydrangea and dogwood, also catch the snow and make a statement against the background.
Another benefit of editing rather than cutting down the garden in the fall, is that the remaining plants provide food and cover for birds during the late fall and winter. Since snow arrived so late this winter, I was able to enjoy my garden of fall color full of birds into December. My gardens which have become perennial and shrub borders contain hundreds of plants that attract insects, butterflies and birds. Cardinals and blue jays spend most of their time in the windbreak and tree tops. Nuthatches and woodpeckers roam the tree trunks. Juncos, finch, and mourning doves scatter around the ground or visit the hanging bird feeders.
This is my chance to plan for next year’s winter garden!
The Autumn Garden
Design the garden for all seasons. The garden designer considers plant characteristics of form and color to develop landscapes that offer beauty and inspiration in all months. Some months create more of a challenge than others. October is rich with opportunities for the gardener.
As I walk through the garden my eyes play with the combinations of plants and their shapes and hues. I am accompanied by the sounds of fall. These include the constant and strangely reassuring drone of seed driers my neighbors are using for their soybeans and corn. The motors run through the day and night. The sound of the combines varies in intensity as they approach and recede for hours during field harvesting. The constant wind moves through the dry corn stalks, the short pastures, the trees with changing leaves, the garden grasses and the dry fallen leaves adding more seasonal sounds.
Roses continue to bloom this month. The red and oranges of my climbing roses and David Austin roses blend beautifully with the red leaves of the dogwoods and sweetspire and orange-yellow leaves of the magnolia. The hydrangea blooms still hold pink hues. The sedum turns a rich dark pink. New England asters finally bloom pink, blue and purple. The Gaillardia still blooms wildly. Prairie dropseed now fades to light Naples yellow.
Never give up on the garden. Plan for the autumn landscape.
As I walk through the garden my eyes play with the combinations of plants and their shapes and hues. I am accompanied by the sounds of fall. These include the constant and strangely reassuring drone of seed driers my neighbors are using for their soybeans and corn. The motors run through the day and night. The sound of the combines varies in intensity as they approach and recede for hours during field harvesting. The constant wind moves through the dry corn stalks, the short pastures, the trees with changing leaves, the garden grasses and the dry fallen leaves adding more seasonal sounds.
Roses continue to bloom this month. The red and oranges of my climbing roses and David Austin roses blend beautifully with the red leaves of the dogwoods and sweetspire and orange-yellow leaves of the magnolia. The hydrangea blooms still hold pink hues. The sedum turns a rich dark pink. New England asters finally bloom pink, blue and purple. The Gaillardia still blooms wildly. Prairie dropseed now fades to light Naples yellow.
Never give up on the garden. Plan for the autumn landscape.
End of Summer Rhythms
In the early morning of September 1 as I watered and photographed my garden I heard a new sound. Music. I could faintly hear the sounds of a marching band practice. From the wind direction I thought it must be the rural high school band preparing for a football game that night. So although the temperatures would remain in the 80’s and 90’s for a few more days, fall had arrived.
I did not play a band instrument, but most of my friends did. High school football in Indiana was as big there as in Iowa. Now it was part of my garden. As I listened, my ears became more sensitive to the sounds. The buzzing all around me grew louder. The bees feeding in the cooler morning air seemed annoyed with my presence as I gingerly made my way through the beds taking pictures. In the prairies the buzz was so loud it could drown out the sound of my neighbor’s farm machinery starting up. I grabbed quick shots of unidentified insects resting on blossoms.
Kids marching, Judy watering, bees feeding, farmer working, cows mooing, dogs watching was the rhythm of the morning.
I did not play a band instrument, but most of my friends did. High school football in Indiana was as big there as in Iowa. Now it was part of my garden. As I listened, my ears became more sensitive to the sounds. The buzzing all around me grew louder. The bees feeding in the cooler morning air seemed annoyed with my presence as I gingerly made my way through the beds taking pictures. In the prairies the buzz was so loud it could drown out the sound of my neighbor’s farm machinery starting up. I grabbed quick shots of unidentified insects resting on blossoms.
Kids marching, Judy watering, bees feeding, farmer working, cows mooing, dogs watching was the rhythm of the morning.
A New Tune
I have changed my tune. A while back I wrote about the birds at my feeders. I declared that I do not feed the birds once winter has passed. It’s too messy and the birds can find enough to eat anyway.
In an effort to use up the seed I bought in November, I have continued to feed the birds. Even though the crows have come to feed. Even though the lawn is a mess. Even though my puppy has discovered how sweet black oil sunflower and safflower seeds taste.
As I stood at my kitchen window cleaning and oiling my horse’s bridle the birds fed at the three feeders, their choice of the above two entrees and a third, Niger thistle. Seven bright yellow goldfinches ate and flitted about in a happy community. There was very little bullying. They really seemed to get along. I was satisfied to have provided them a dining room with a south eastern exposure on this cold, sunny and windy spring morning.
We have had another regular visitor. He pecks in vain at the decking looking for bugs. He has discovered the thistle feeder and returns frequently, hopping about. He is usually there when the finches are not, but will come while the black capped chickadees feed. He is the downy woodpecker.
At other times bunches of house and purple finches appear. Unlike the female goldfinch that shows some muted yellow, the female house and purple finches look alike in tans and browns. The mourning doves for which the Iowa legislature has passed a hunting season eat the spilled seed on the deck and ground.
The most amazing bird to visit is another finch. The indigo bunting with the most vibrant color I have ever seen. When I stepped back to the window with my camera, he was gone. According to my bird book, he was here early, scouting for a nesting site for his family.
Never has an hour of cleaning tack gone by so quickly.
In an effort to use up the seed I bought in November, I have continued to feed the birds. Even though the crows have come to feed. Even though the lawn is a mess. Even though my puppy has discovered how sweet black oil sunflower and safflower seeds taste.
As I stood at my kitchen window cleaning and oiling my horse’s bridle the birds fed at the three feeders, their choice of the above two entrees and a third, Niger thistle. Seven bright yellow goldfinches ate and flitted about in a happy community. There was very little bullying. They really seemed to get along. I was satisfied to have provided them a dining room with a south eastern exposure on this cold, sunny and windy spring morning.
We have had another regular visitor. He pecks in vain at the decking looking for bugs. He has discovered the thistle feeder and returns frequently, hopping about. He is usually there when the finches are not, but will come while the black capped chickadees feed. He is the downy woodpecker.
At other times bunches of house and purple finches appear. Unlike the female goldfinch that shows some muted yellow, the female house and purple finches look alike in tans and browns. The mourning doves for which the Iowa legislature has passed a hunting season eat the spilled seed on the deck and ground.
The most amazing bird to visit is another finch. The indigo bunting with the most vibrant color I have ever seen. When I stepped back to the window with my camera, he was gone. According to my bird book, he was here early, scouting for a nesting site for his family.
Never has an hour of cleaning tack gone by so quickly.