Rebelling against rules in the garden

Writing a column about planting bulbs – like daffodils and other spring-blooming flowers – is part of the job description for garden columnists. We are expected to expound on the best varieties, where to find them, and the right way to plant them.

But last week a commenter on this column slightly disrupted that process. DeaneTR wrote “most every person has a very narrow view of what's right and wrong to do in the garden and they take it way too seriously . . . right and wrong is too often subjective and a matter of taste not truth in a garden.”

This is an excellent reminder to maintain some mental flexibility in our way of thinking about what we do in our gardens. So, I will refrain from telling anyone not to plant tulips in a straight, single-file row. Retired military men sometimes like them that way.

I will also confess to all I have done “wrong” according to conventional garden advice – most notably not getting around to planting bulbs until January one year. Crocus, tulip and daffodil bulbs languished in the basement for months after impulse purchases made in October.

That counts as two against-the-rules decisions. The first was making impulse purchases, which conventional garden advice inveighs against. We are never supposed to buy any plant, package of seeds, or bulbs without first knowing exactly where we will plant them. Plan before purchase, they say. For some of us, that may be an aspiration, if not a reality. The rest of us see something irresistible and say to ourselves “Oh I’ll find a place for it.”

The second fault was procrastination. Planting bulbs in the fall is obviously less likely to make the gardener cold and muddy, less likely to track mud in the house, and less likely to use foul language. It’s also less likely to result in bulbs that wither, mold and die during those months in the basement.

Luckily, however, those neglected and late-planted bulbs did fine; they just bloomed a bit later than usual. So, right again, DeaneTR.

Here’s one more example of rules colliding with reality: A rule-following gardener would shop carefully for bulbs. An hour or two online would reveal of world of wonder in the diversity of online offerings, ranging from fall-blooming saffron crocus to a zillion kinds of daffodils and tulips to lilium giganteum, which grows up to 12 feet tall, and may take four years to bloom. But all bulb orders should have been placed months ago; there are “sold out” gaps now.

Then there’s a local nursery, or a big box store where you can buy both bulbs and lightbulbs. The big box store is cheaper, and there’s time to buy now before the bulbs sit there in that too-warm air much longer. The nursery I went to had an over-priced and shrinking collection.

(I didn’t find species crocus in either place. Species crocus are smaller, bloom earlier and stand up to rain better than their bigger hybrid cousins. Fortunately, they’re abundant online, though I just placed an order that reduced the stock.)

DeaneTR’s comments point to a basic fact of gardening: We all tend our own gardens, make our own choices, and try to create our own, individual vision of abundance and natural beauty. We all have quirks, tastes, failings, and virtues. All of these add up to a personal set of predilections. If we let them, our predilections calcify into rules, and then the best we can do is not take even our own rules too seriously.

Still, as DeaneTR concludes:

“That being said, I never ever use a weedwacker, weedcloth, a leaf blower or hedge shears in a way that turns every plant or tree into a bush because some things will always be wrong.”

So thank you, DeaneTR, and thank you to every other commenter. You are all an essential part of the modern columnist’s craft.

Jill Severn writes from her home in Olympia, where she grows vegetables, flowers, and a small flock of chickens. She loves conversation among gardeners. Start one by emailing her at  jill@theJOLTnews.com