The garden on 21 September 2017

Looking at these photographs, it seems I began my Canadian cottage garden in the spring of 2017; here it is in the fall. 

Before the snow

 Snow expected tomorrow; today, rain, 1 degree C. And here is what it’s like outside a few minutes ago.                

Last day of November

Winter blows in soon, snow, ice, and misery. Many gardeners have done something to prepare their garden for next spring, including me. But for many others it's the minimum and that will have to be enough when you factor in a disinclination to even be outside in this cold weather (and winter hasn't even begun). I've just been on a short walk and I guess I'm not much of a Canadian anymore, winter fills me with dread. 

Just a short aside; one of the best things I've done is have these fences enclose parts of the garden. The enclosed feeling, contained, and privacy makes the garden even more inviting to sit back there even, I am hoping, when it's cold.

Photo taken on 30 November after a second pruning of these trees this month.

A neighbour had this row of trees pruned, branches and some boughs have been removed; 
my hope is that this will give me more sunlight next year.

Some rose bushes have been wrapped in burlap while this area has a layer of 
leaves and burlap covering it.

Any gardener will tell you of the advantages of mulching; don't discard last fall's leaves, rake
them onto your flower beds; in the early spring you'll see new growth where you raked your leaves.

A year ago I raked this area, I cleaned out dead plants, leaves, and ended up with the soil and a few
remaining plants. What a mistake that was . . . the tall bee balm and flowers, miniature irises, and
even the raspberry canes failed to perform as they had the previous summer. This fall I have left
things as they are and we'll see what grows . . .

The end of November and these flowers, in a hanging pot, are all that is left in the garden despite
the cold and snow we've already had and that subsequently melted . . .

The garden's new fences

A few weeks ago I had fairly extensive landscaping done at our home, which included new fences for the garden. The old, collapsing, wooden fence that we had by the side of the house may have been countryish and maybe it had another ten years before it would have collapsed, but it needed to be replaced. There was another fence, in the back of the garden, and it had completely collapsed; it may have been sixty years old. 

Our Cape Cod Cottage, and there are many of them in this neighbourhood, were built in 1950, after the War, for returning veterans; they housed a family of four people, they are single family dwellings, they have a backyard, and the same design of house was constructed in many parts of Canada. Cape Cod Cottages are remarkably well constructed and quiet inside, if quiet is as important to you as it is for me. Only seventy-five years ago this area of Montreal was all farmers' fields, there were also apple orchards, and it was the country; that is all gone now and few people either remember how it was or know anything about the history of this area. 

There is one thing most old people would agree on and that is to prepare for the future. We know the future we don't want but it takes some effort to avoid it; we want to stay independent and to do this requires at least basic ambulatory health and some mental acuity; fortunately, the Quebec government seems to be working to keep old people in their homes for as long as possible, they pay to have someone visit the elderly everyday, and this is a lot cheaper, and better for the elderly, than having these old people institutionalized. We saw what institutionalized care for old people is like, it's something we all want to avoid, among other things it was also a breeding ground for Covid-19. So, the message is, Prepare now! That is one reason I had these fences built, so I can have a nice environment now and not worry about the place falling apart when I'm older and not able to look after it.

These new six foot fences may seem extreme, but they also make the garden feel private and enclosed. I told someone when the fences were being constructed that I didn't want the Berlin Wall and then I realized they hadn't heard of the Berlin Wall; ah, the young . . . I suspect that fences are what a garden needs, to be enclosed for privacy; I am also reminded of one of the greatest children's novels, The Secret Garden by Francis Hodgson Burnett, well worth reading by yourself or to a child.  Fences enclose the garden and make it feel private, like a room, a place of flowers, birds, and being a little closer to nature, be sure to add a few chairs so you can sit for a while, and enjoy the garden you have created,  

The garden under snow

Yesterday's snow will probably melt, it's 0 C., moving between +1 and -1; just think, ten days ago it was +20 C. No wonder we're obsessed with the weather; before bed we listen to the weather report, then we'll know what kind of day tomorrow will be; upon waking we listen to the weather report, has it changed since last night? Where I live, so much of daily life depends on the weather.

You ask if I like snow and winter? No, I don't. But we are stoics here in Canada, we live with it, we say "You get what you get."

Here is the garden under snow.

"Lines Written in Kensington Gardens" by Matthew Arnold

 

In this lone, open glade I lie,
Screen'd by deep boughs on either hand;
And at its end, to stay the eye,
Those black-crown'd, red-boled pine-trees stand!

Birds here make song, each bird has his,
Across the girdling city's hum.
How green under the boughs it is!
How thick the tremulous sheep-cries come!

Sometimes a child will cross the glade
To take his nurse his broken toy;
Sometimes a thrush flit overhead
Deep in her unknown day's employ.

Here at my feet what wonders pass,
What endless, active life is here!
What blowing daisies, fragrant grass!
An air-stirr'd forest, fresh and clear.

Scarce fresher is the mountain-sod
Where the tired angler lies, stretch'd out,
And, eased of basket and of rod,
Counts his day's spoil, the spotted trout.

In the huge world, which roars hard by,
Be others happy if they can!
But in my helpless cradle I
Was breathed on by the rural Pan.

I, on men's impious uproar hurl'd,
Think often, as I hear them rave,
That peace has left the upper world
And now keeps only in the grave.

Yet here is peace for ever new!
When I who watch them am away,
Still all things in this glade go through
The changes of their quiet day.

Then to their happy rest they pass!
The flowers up close, the birds are fed,
The night comes down upon the grass,
The child sleeps warmly in his bed.

Calm soul of all things! make it mine
To feel, amid the city's jar,
That there abides a peace of thine,
Man did not make, and cannot mar.

The will to neither strive nor cry,
The power to feel with others give!
Calm, calm me more! nor let me die
Before I have begun to live.

The garden in fall

The garden in fall is different than the garden in summer, in July, when the garden is at its best, flowers, hot days, bright sunlight, shade under the apple tree, a slight breeze, birds at the bird bath, lush grass. There is a special quality to a garden in fall, not a "fall garden", no one plants a garden for the fall. There is now a calm, the flowers have mostly died and only a few dead flowers and leaves remain; no new flowers until next spring or summer. It is a cliche, but there is a meditative calm to the garden now even though there is still fall work to be done, rake leaves, move a few perennials, tidy up the flower beds, prepare the garden for winter and for next spring, say goodbye. You sit there in the garden, it is the remnants of what was there a month ago, no longer lush, no longer young, it the seasonal old age of the garden and next will be the quiescence and conclusion of things which is winter.

These photos taken on 30 September 2022.

Dividing and planting hostas

A perennial is like a daughter, you have her for life; an annual is like a son, you have him until he finds a wife. Not the greatest analogy but you get the idea, assuming you know the old adage, “A daughter is a daughter all of your life; a son is a son until he takes a wife.” Of course, some sons keep their old parents in mind, my uncles phoned their mother every weekend, some phoned everyday, and my Uncle Alex visited his mother every Sunday and took her for a drive. Had it been my uncle's father instead of his mother, maybe he wouldn't have visited as often. Mothers are the center of the family, fathers often peripheral. But fathers can have other relationships, a second or third wife, or a girlfriend, or friends or acquaintances, or a dog or cat or a goldfish. 

And in gardening we have perennial plants, they return every year. That is part of the beauty of perennials, you aren't planting a new garden every year, the old garden comes back to life in the spring. And when your perennials get big enough you might want to divide them and move some of them to other places in your garden. I have a really nice row of hostas in the back of the garden, divided and planted last fall, and they helped to pull the garden together. 

This hosta, in the photo, is in our front garden, and it had to be moved because I am planning to have some work done to the front of the house; this is how easy it is to dig up and divide hostas. It takes all of a minute or two to dig up the plant, it has a large root ball, and then divide it into three parts, that's what I did. And then I planted the three "new" hostas in different parts of the garden behind the house. After the work on the front of the house is done I have four other hostas I plan to divide and plant in an area that needs some upgrading... but that might have to wait until late October or even early November, still time enough to do this work, and other gardening, before winter comes in December.

Planning to divide these hostas next