There really is no more beautiful time to live in the Northeast than in the autumn. The ever-changing vistas around my yard, as the varying trees show off their fall colors, dazzle the eye, and spark the imagination. Just when I'm lamenting the final decline of my flower garden, nature rolls out a magnificent leaf show. I find, once again, I'm a captive audience to her antics, and my camera is--yet again--working overtime.
Of course the inevitable decline is right around the corner, in the form of literally pounds of fallen leaves piling up all over my yard. What to do with them all? Each year I rack my brain, thinking there's got to be a better way to handle the overflow, and put these leaves to the best possible use. And the good news is, there is! So, this year, I will not only head outside armed with my rake, but with the knowledge that I will use rather than discard the riches that nature has literally covered me in.
Instead of carting leaves to the curb, I plan to recycle them the way nature does, by turning them into an invaluable soil builder, creating leaf mold. What's leaf mold? Leaves that have fully decomposed, and turned into the nutrient-rich, dark material known as humus. Leaf mold improves the water-holding capacity of soil. It also creates the perfect place for the community of beneficial organisms that inhabit soil. It's a super potting-mix component. I have a large area near the edge of my property which has an abundance of trees. I plan on piling all my leaves there, hence, starting my own composting pile. It's as simple as that. First, I'll spray down the leaves with my garden hose, because, according Abigail Maynard, Ph.D., of the Connecticut Agriculture Experiment Station, dehydrated leaves begin to lose nitrogen, and this hinders the decomposition process. Next, I'll pile the leaves together, and turn them over periodically. Within two years, I'll have a ready-made pile of nature-rich soil, and no need to ever buy potting mix again.
Adding leaf mold to soil will enrich it without springing for expensive prepared soil mixtures from costly garden centers. And leaf mold can hold up to 500 times its own weight in water, making it an excellent moisture-retaining mulch. Simply scatter it around (but not touching) the crowns of annuals, perennials, and vegetables to hold enough moisture to keep plants hydrated for as much as an extra two weeks without watering. But a word of caution: don't use leaves that have fallen on grass recently sprayed with synthetic chemicals. Grass clippings with chemical residues can get mixed in with the leaves, and contaminate them, says William Brinton, Ph.D., director of the Woods End Research Laboratory, in Maine. Similarly, don't use leaves that have been raked into the street for municipal pickup, because they may contain fuel or oil residues.
If you want to use your fallen leaves by spring, you can speed up the composting process. Make a 3-by-3-foot leaf mold "cage" from stakes and chicken wire--and hasten the leaves' rate of decomposition by running a lawn mower over the pile a few times. To ensure even decomposition, turn the pile occasionally. Your leaves will be ready by next season, rather than the requisite two years it takes to naturally decompose.
This fall, I plan on arming my plants against an impending winter. How? By actually arming them with leaves. I've plucked a role of discarded mesh fencing from my neighbor's trash pile (it's amazing to discover such gems sitting roadside), and I plan on caging my tender perennials with it. I'll stuff leaves between the mesh and the plants to insulate them, and coax tender buds to sprout. After last winter froze all the blossoms off my hydrangeas, I will target those plants first. All Hydrangea macrophylla (the ones with flowers that bloom pink, purple or blue) will be thoroughly covered, as will the oakleaf hydrangea (all these make buds on existing wood) and the 'Endless Summer' types of hydrangea (which make blooms on old and new wood). I need not bother covering my Hydrangea paniculata (which blooms white), since this type of hydrangea grows on new wood.
I need not start the process until the first hard frost looms. In the meantime, I'll sit back, and watch the show nature has prepared for me.
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