Low light, shorter days, garden love

I have been loving the low light of late Autumn recently and the quiet it brings as we slow down the gardening year. The onset of Winter allows time to reflect.

I worked largely alone one day this week and was only distracted by the beating of Swans overhead or the moment when I would occasionally tune in to the babbling river beyond the vegetable garden. When you have the time to be quiet it is amazing how heightened your senses become, particularly when in nature. The Robin chirping somewhere nearby, the rustle of a leaf as a Pheasant flaps away, Frogs squirming as you move the soil around them.

I have been in both my working gardens this week and have mirrored jobs in each. Lifting Dahlias is a ritual I enjoy very much (although it doesn't seem enough time in-between lifting and planting again!). Time to look at each name, remember their look and smell, how tall they grew, whether they were good cut flowers or grew prolifically on a very short stem. We store the tubers (carefully labelled) in trays, initially upside down to drain any water from the stems and then as they dry return them upright for the Winter.

Now is the time to be pruning many plants in the gardens too. Of course Wisteria which can be done any time from now until March really, a Winter prune to 1 or 2 buds. A tight shape and time to consider the structure of the plant, saving and training new stems, or removing leggy or old wood. Pruning roses begins now, removing old wood, tying in new if a climber or rambler. Preventing wind rock if a shrub. I absolutely LOVE to prune and so I find this kind of work a joy (I should point out if it is not chucking in down with a Northerly freezing cold wind in my face).

Now is the perfect time also to plant bulbs, we managed over a 1300 on Thursday this week. Rippling ribbons of bulbs through long grass and borders.

The ebb and flow of the gardening year. It changes each time yet remains constant in many ways. You can rely on nature to need your input but only when SHE tells you she is ready, like my Sedums (sorry something else now Hylotelephium) who last week were dying gracefully with yellowing leaves and strong purple heads only to today look slushy and weak with new rosettes forming at the base. Hurry up and cut us back they say! We are ready for the new.