All the leaves have fallen and the last of my autumn sedum have bloomed and now wither in the harsh November winds. It was a good run in the garden this season: a marathon of blossoming perennials competed with Iron Man will for my attention amid the stout sedges, prolific shrubs and sensual sway of a wide variety of perennial grasses. They all garnered a place in the sun but now must surrender to the increasing shadows of late fall, a well-deserved resting season.
I always think on this time of year with a mental sigh--part wistful longing for those long summer days gone by and part anticipation of the snowy blanket to cover the landscape and force my activities cheerfully indoors--and I know that I must put my garden to bed.
I look toward the veggies first. Thankfully, radishes, carrots, parsnips, garlic, leeks, horseradish and turnips have not yet arrived at the end of their productive lives. They can be harvested into early winter with a little care: simply cover them well with oak leaves to keep the ground from thawing and be sure to mark them with sticks so they can be located in case of heavy snowfall. All other vegetable plants must be tossed on the compost heap (unless they are diseased, in which case they can be burned).
I have some hearty herbs as well. I've put the parsley in the garage for the winter because it can get quite finicky about temperatures going below freezing. But my potted thyme, sage, oregano and chives benefitted last year from a warm spot up against the house and a cozy layer of leaves. I think this strategy will work again, barring an unseasonably cold winter.
Since I've already removed my potted annuals and placed the bulbs and tubers of many "warm weather" plants (like my dahlias and cannas) on newspaper to dry out, I now have a garage full of plants that take up all the room I will need to store my cars come that first heavy snowfall. Bulbs and tubers I gently dust and place in paper bags (never plastic, as this will trap moisture and rot them) and my beloved dozens of geraniums will get some tough love: a tender tearing away from their pots. I will disengage the plants from the soil (I like to use my hands and a fork so as not to damage too many roots), bundle them together and hang the plants upside down in my basement (an ideal spot for overwintering geraniums). Come spring, I will cut the remnants of these plants back and replant them in their familiar pots with new, freshly fertilized soil. This practice, as barbarian as it seems, is actually an ideal way to hang onto my plants for many, many years. I am usually able to retain about 80% of each plant. And they grow back to twice their original size by summer's end.
Finally I look to my sentimental favorites: my perennial flowers. Most of these will get cut back to about 3" once the ground freezes and I will protect them with a generous layer of oak leaves and straw. I pay special attention to my peonies, which must die back to nothing but dead, brown leaves before I cut the foliage. Yet peonies are picky and to look their best, I must remember they like things a certain way every year. I am diligent about cutting all the foliage to the ground because hanging onto the remnants exposes the foliage--and entire plant bed to gray mold. The last thing I do for the peonies is wish them a nice cold slumber and hope that the winter is sufficiently chilly for my longed-for profusion of peony blooms come spring. Peonies need a sufficient number of days where the thermometer reads below 40 degrees in order to bloom to their full potential.
There is a very notable exception to my perennial beds' drastic autumn haircuts: my hydrangea bushes. Not all the bushes, just the hydrangeas that bloom pink, blue or purple. These mop head and lace cap varieties (called macrophylla) bloom on "old wood" (translation: foliage that formed before the current growing season) and have new flower heads already formed. Ask a friend or neighbor about hydrangeas and you are sure to hear someone gripe about their hydrangea bush not blooming but looking otherwise great. It's because they cut off all the old wood. The white-flowered hydrangeas bloom on "new wood" (foliage formed this year) so they are fine to cut back in fall (these white-bloomed varieties are the pee gee (paniculata) and Annabelle (arborescens) types. Of course there is even an exception to the exception: the oak leaf hydrangea, which has white blooms but grows on old wood.
Last but not least, I tend to the tools of any gardeners trade: my garden utensils. I carefully clean all items before I put them away for the season and then I quickly wipe the metal implements with a light coat of vegetable oil to keep them from rusting. Now I can settle in for a cozy winter season knowing that come spring my garden will burst forth in a bounty of healthy, gorgeous new growth.
