It happens every year, around the time when the “dog days” of summer set in. You’ve been absolutely smitten with your garden — watching each new flower come into blossom, admiring those close-to-perfect, beautifully manicured, colorful vistas. And then, almost imperceptibly, everything seems to droop and fade. As the keeper of the garden, you take this very personally.
But don’t. It’s just the mirage of August.
The time of year has everything to do with this change in mood. In spring, gardening is about rejuvenation. The greenness, the milder climate, and the return of flowers after a weary winter have an immense impact on us. We can’t help but feel positive. The work, no matter how much there is, seems manageable — even pleasurable.
But by late summer, something changes.
Plants have responded to the heat, humidity, pests and diseases in their own ways. Some have flourished; others have clearly had enough. Sections of the garden begin to go to seed, flowers slump over and leaves lose their freshness. Even the most carefully tended borders can look a little unruly. And our own zest has been zapped by all the manual labor. In short, we’re as tired as the garden.
Perhaps this is where we make our mistake. We see the garden’s exhaustion as another problem to solve. We deadhead, weed, prune and water, trying to restore the picture we had in our minds back in June.
But maybe August is telling us something else. Maybe this is the season when the gardener needs to be revived, too. Spring asks us to cultivate the garden. August might be asking us to cultivate ourselves: to put down the pruners, sit in the shade and spend some time in the garden without a list of chores. A garden doesn’t need to be at its peak for us to love it. And neither, perhaps, do we.
You can go on fighting the good fight to make things right out there. Or you can take a breather — a few days off, mentally and physically. Or simply slow down and take in your surroundings more deliberately.
Spring tends to turn us into officious clerks for our gardens, making lists of tasks, materials and plants, all organized around deadlines. There’s the Fourth of July, perhaps, or a garden tour, a party or a houseful of guests. I’ve had them all, from our son’s wedding to garden tours to houseguests, and the compulsion for perfection is undeniable.
But such haste in fine-tuning a garden can take away from the very pleasure we derive from it. We’re all guilty of this. A few years ago, in time for the tulips, I invited a dozen friends over for a gathering. For several days, I labored as though I were preparing a doctoral dissertation. The day arrived, and rain forced us indoors. So much for all that work.
At some point, you have to ask yourself: Who is all of this for?
The garden is, after all, a hobby, a pleasure, a way of relating to nature and feeling more at one with the world. Goals are good, but they shouldn’t become tyrants. Be passionate about your garden, but don’t turn it into an assembly line.
Think of yourself as the garden’s CEO, if you must: sketch out plans, focus on what matters most, delegate when you can — and, above all, understand that this is a process. There will be highs and lows, triumphs and disappointments, abundance and decline.
The garden is never finished. Nor should it be. The trick is to keep the work in balance with the pleasure, and to leave yourself some time to recharge. Here are a few things that may help you rebound:
-Your body may need a break, but your mind could use some sustenance. Take pleasure in reading those books you set aside, preferably outdoors in your garden space.
-Step back and behold your accomplishments. Praise your creation; look for the positive features. Find ways to be in this garden as a spectator. Bring your camera for those “Kodak moments.”
-Physical workouts don’t end with the hoe. Try rowing, swimming, kayaking, sailing, quahogging, golfing, bicycling. These will work different muscle groups that you might not use in gardening.
-Go to a nursery without a list. You may see some price reductions as nurseries get ready to bring in fall stock.
-Get hooked into a drama that is far afield from the likes of gardening — something that totally disconnects you. My current fav is Widow’s Bay, which mixes horror and humor as it depicts a remote island community with poor cell reception, no reliable Wi-Fi, and a centuries-old supernatural curse that brings eerie events, strange fog and monsters.
-Don’t be overly concerned with the big picture. Take it border by border. Rome wasn’t built in a day. There is always tomorrow, even next year.
“What other creative undertaking can produce such total submission as gardens do? They are both felicitous and predatory; they get you by the throat and do not let go. Surrender is total.” — Mirabel Osler
The Seaside Gardener
By Laura McLean