What’s going to happen to my garden, tools and books when I move on to another Eden?
As Victory Garden host Roger Swain observed, “Few gardens outlive the gardener for long; but many plants outlive the garden.”
Not trying to be ghoulish in this hopeful season of spring regeneration, but for decades I’ve helped people who inherit or buy an established property deal with the floral carcass of a highly personalized garden. I’ve walked them through what needs doing to keep it working and looking acceptable while converting it into a usable space for themselves.
For the most part, the trees and shrubs remain, but the bespoke plants in custom-made beds usually simply melt away, fading reminders of the ephemeral nature of gardens.
I’ve seen the overgrown shrubs, tangled flowers and piled pots and fading plant labels languishing in the shed, and large libraries of once-cherished gardening books, old tools and yard art, all too personal to be of use to anyone, sadly discarded for want of takers.
This is particularly important for those determined independent gardeners (DIGrs) who tend to amass a lot of stuff, planted every which way and over-accessorized. Theirs can be real messes to deal with later. Believe me, it can be heartbreaking.
My own quirky cottage garden, a gallimaufry of unique design features, folk-artsy accessories and weird plants collected over a horticultural lifetime, fits me like a glove. I anticipate what to do, when and how, and understand how it progresses through the seasons and matures over the years.
But I am aware that much of it would overwhelm my grown children, or new owners. I don’t want my treasured surroundings to become their jumbled burden, have no desire to push a high-maintenance haven onto those who come after.
They might not know that the water garden needs annual leaf removal or it will stink, and those heirloom daffodils need leaving alone until their foliage dies down or they won’t flower the next year. Without regular thinning those precious wildflowers, planted deliberately for beauty and pollinators, can quickly become overgrown weeds.
They’ll probably want to replant the lawn, which took me years to gradually replace with walks, decks, mulch and flowerbeds. And no one wants my style of fencing which includes custom-cut panels of corrugated metal. Or my dozen or so bottle trees.
What I’m getting at is I am thinking ahead and have developed a written plan — with photos — on what needs doing to make the garden presentable to someone with less peculiar tastes and who may not appreciate gardening as much. Someone who wants their own stuff.
I’ve let it be known to family and close gardener friends that some of the plants, especially the rare ones, should be divvied up, in the right season, and spread around elsewhere. Some shrubs and trees can remain as garden bones (‘scuse the pun); but to create a neater landscape, the rest are mostly removable clutter. The mid-garden decks and walks can be eliminated and the area sodded with grass; the custom fence can go, or be replaced with a neater picket.
Most of the bottle trees are worthless, but three are Stephanie Dwyer creations and should be donated or sold. Oh, and nobody needs to know where the dog is buried, but I wouldn’t dig up that old rose shrub any time soon.
If you are a gardener, think about proactive responsibility. It’s one thing to “gather ye rosebuds while ye may …” But it’s also a good idea to share what you can, while you can. And have a plan for what’s left behind.
Felder Rushing is a Mississippi author, columnist, and host of the “Gestalt Gardener” on MPB Think Radio. Email gardening questions to [email protected].
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