The 2018 Season

Every year between winter’s end and spring’s beginning I am sure that nothing in the garden will return;  that only disappointment will result from all the effort, the care, and the planning.  Then I remind myself that the point of having a garden is to believe if you plant bulbs in the fall, you will be around to see them bloom in the spring. 

So where does it come from – this conviction that all will be lost? Is it the sin of hubris, the price of overweening ambition combined with the guilt of overspending in the preceding year?  Fortunately, it’s only the anticipation that is bleak; the reality is that we are having a robust early spring in 2018.  

        This is the third year for the garden.  The old saying -- that the first year the garden sleeps, the second year it creeps and the third year it leaps –- is true.  It is only late May and I’m beginning to run out of room for growth. 

Creeping phlox, meadow rue and hydrangea.

        The ferns, astilbes, hellebores and hostas are spreading out.  The creeping phlox is beginning to lose its bloom but will probably hold on for another week.  The Spring Green tulips are beginning to ebb, but they have been in bloom more than two weeks.  The cimicifuga has spilled over its allotted areas.  

Hosta, fern, cimicifuga and sweet woodruff.

        The aronia is blooming along the driveway.  The bearded iris are opening and the Siberian iris and peonies are getting ready to take over next.  I have no complaints.

Aronia in the Driveway

        We did have some significant losses this past year.  The worst was the death of four of the six Japanese maples central to the design of the garden.  They succumbed to verticillium wilt, a fungal disease caused by soil-borne pathogens that clog the vascular system of the plant.  Die-back occurred section by section either slowly, or in my case, from one weekend to the next.  Leaves appeared to curl and shrivel, and suddenly a major branch was dead.  Once stricken, the tree must be removed and the soil is forever contaminated.  

The Last of the Japanese Maples 

        
        So now we are faced with two limitations: susceptibility to soil damaged by verticillium wilt and the toxicity of the surrounding black walnut trees. By the time you vet for both these conditions you are left with few choices.  Dogwoods (which have their own regional problems), conifers (too dark and heavy for me) apples, and Sweetgum. The Sweetgum (Liquidambar styraciflua) won out despite a prickly seed production that puts black walnuts to shame.  

        The Sweetgum is a beautifully-shaped tree with a spreading canopy that can reach 75 feet.  It gives the garden a park-like look as opposed to the domestic, garden-esque feel of the Japanese maples.  They will need background and understory planting, but I’ll worry about that closer to fall.  In the meantime I’m looking at their tiny leaves, and making sure they have enough water to open up.

        As to the perennial walnut problem, this year I am trying Snipper, a de-flowering agent that will eliminate the blossoms but does not affect the foliage. Used by growers with large plantations of nut trees, the agent is inoculated around the perimeter of the tree.  This is an uneasy route for me to take, but given the staggering cost of the other possible solutions it is worth a try.