All Is Quiet In The Garden
Halloween has come and gone, the pumpkins are on their way out and the spider webs still hang on to the shrubs. Candy wrappers sprinkle the landscape and the sidewalks are still lined with bright, crunchy leaves.
The chill in the air lingers longer. The light is lower and less intense, allowing the oak leaves to glimmer their reddish bronze. Swiss chard, lettuce and perhaps the last radish harvest are brought in. Soups are simmering and our last bit of kale is added. Our sprinklers have been winterized. Our gardens have been put to rest.
This month is a time of gratitude. Thankfulness for the garden and the trees and the leaves and the blooms that graced us this past season. The skeletons of our gardens reveal themselves. The rose’s bright orange hips, the hydrangea’s dried flower clusters and the ornamental grasses stand tall amid the cold, crisp air.
November is quiet in the garden. This stillness allows for us to see and feel the structure and hierarchy of our gardens (or, lack thereof). What does it look like now that all of the blooms are dried and the textures have wilted?
Once all of the leaves are either raked into the garden beds to insulate the plants or hauled off to the leaf drop, the landscape becomes stark. The leaves are gone, the perennials are cut back and the evergreens are still, securing the permanency of the gardens. Perhaps a cornucopia is made with the treasures found on the ground – an old gourd or a pretty rock.
November is also a time of reflection. The chilly air compels us to go inside. We turn inward and we contemplate what is. Gratitude and blessings. Gratefulness. Gratitude for living in Park Hill, amongst the mature oaks and maples and lindens. Appreciation for our autumn season and the colors that inspire awe. The raining of yellow leaves. The diversity of our neighbors and the vast array of gardens that are bestowed on us.
Simple pleasures that we take for granted – our homes and our families. Blessings.
As the clocks fall back and we turn inward, we can gaze out our windows and take in our outdoor space. We can plant the seed in our minds of how we want to use our outside space next year. Next November, what will you see from your window? Will you have a new patio? A new tree? Or, will it simply be the same as it now – peaceful and content with some crunchy leaves lingering on the grass?
A native of Park Hill, Marne is a professional horticulturalist and garden designer who cultivates her own plot on Dexter Street, where gardens and two kids grow. She can be reached at marnenorquist@gmail.com.