The Process Of Gardens
Written By Janet Sunderland
I have a victory garden. At least that's what it feels like. Oh, I've not won the war against weeds, but that war isn't entirely feasible when you get right down to it. My goal was to create a bird and butterfly sanctuary.
We bought this old house in the Waldo neighborhood of Kansas City in December of 2003, and I couldn't tell what we had in the yard except a six foot tall privacy fence. That’s handy, I thought. I didn't know until summer that the previous owners had cut down an old tree in the center of the yard and left-over roots would sprout heaps of mushroom-like, hard white mold through succeeding summer months. I also didn't know, when we bought the house, that weeds would be our primary ground cover. This is our seventh summer, if you’re counting, and it's been a process, as they say.
My first garden was a plot against the back fence. We hadn't invested yet in a rototiller, so that first plot's boundaries began with old boards held in place with wooden stakes. I put down newspapers in a vague hope of killing out weeds and poured in wheelbarrow loads of topsoil. I planted cone flowers, black-eyed susans, and dahlias. And read garden magazines.
The second plot was against the north fence for roses. My son used a spade and dug up that one. I set up bird feeders and attracted cardinals but mostly grackles, tried for hummingbirds but couldn't attract them, kept reading garden magazines. We joined the Arbor Society and planted ten tiny twig trees and prayed for growth. A few made it through their first winter. Most didn’t.
Another year, I planted a twelve foot tall willow tree in the middle of the back yard, and strawberries along the south wall of the house where they'd get early spring sun; I pulled out more weeds and white fungus. My cousin gave me some Kansas peony roots and I planted them in the far back plot.
Two years ago we finally bought a rototiller and dug up a corner plot next to the patio. A friend gave me a hydrangea and it lives in the corner. Seeds from the black-eyed susans blew in from the back plot and volunteered to grow; and a purple climates has begun to fill the spaces in an old metal frame. And last fall, we rototilled another plot some eighteen feet long and five wide that runs from the willow down to the patio.
Another friend dug up iris roots from her garden to give me those old grape-pop smelling purple iris I remember from my childhood along with the yellow iris that grows wild along Kansas roadsides. I transplanted the peony who weren’t happy against the back fence and three hazelnut bushes I'd received from the Arbor Society. I put in rhubarb and butterfly weed. My son transplanted surviving baby trees closer to the back porch: one dogwood, one redbud.
This summer, we built two square-foot, raised-bed gardens next to the patio (I'd tried a garden in the back plot, that didn't work at all), and we've had a kitchen garden all summer with lettuce and peas, tomatoes and cucumbers, and now fall beans and lettuce. The iris bloomed gloriously this spring, the hydrangea is happy and full, I've had mounds of black-eyed susan and roses, and the willow has doubled in height. Only two or three small, white fungus heads appeared through the grass this year.
But the victory part of the garden arrived in the heat of this August. One day, I noticed a goldfinch eating seed heads in the back garden by the next day, four had arrived; another day, I noticed a hummingbird; soon, butterflies were visiting the butterfly weed. Yea!
I've been feeding safflower seeds to the birds this summer which eliminated grackles in the yard, and to that I've added socks of thistle seed. Finches have arrived in flocks! I hung a sugar water feeder in one corner for the hummingbird and have seen three more come visiting. Refueling for migration has begun.
I guess I could have achieved similar results if we'd hired someone to build a garden that first year, but it wouldn't have been as satisfying. Along with a sanctuary for birds and butterflies, it's become mine as well. When I work in the garden, I don't have to think; I just do. As with the birds and butterflies, the garden has given me a safe place to refuel. And that, in itself, is a victory.
Note To Reader:
For more of Janet's writing you can go to http://janetsunderland.wordpress.com
I have a victory garden. At least that's what it feels like. Oh, I've not won the war against weeds, but that war isn't entirely feasible when you get right down to it. My goal was to create a bird and butterfly sanctuary.
We bought this old house in the Waldo neighborhood of Kansas City in December of 2003, and I couldn't tell what we had in the yard except a six foot tall privacy fence. That’s handy, I thought. I didn't know until summer that the previous owners had cut down an old tree in the center of the yard and left-over roots would sprout heaps of mushroom-like, hard white mold through succeeding summer months. I also didn't know, when we bought the house, that weeds would be our primary ground cover. This is our seventh summer, if you’re counting, and it's been a process, as they say.
My first garden was a plot against the back fence. We hadn't invested yet in a rototiller, so that first plot's boundaries began with old boards held in place with wooden stakes. I put down newspapers in a vague hope of killing out weeds and poured in wheelbarrow loads of topsoil. I planted cone flowers, black-eyed susans, and dahlias. And read garden magazines.
The second plot was against the north fence for roses. My son used a spade and dug up that one. I set up bird feeders and attracted cardinals but mostly grackles, tried for hummingbirds but couldn't attract them, kept reading garden magazines. We joined the Arbor Society and planted ten tiny twig trees and prayed for growth. A few made it through their first winter. Most didn’t.
Another year, I planted a twelve foot tall willow tree in the middle of the back yard, and strawberries along the south wall of the house where they'd get early spring sun; I pulled out more weeds and white fungus. My cousin gave me some Kansas peony roots and I planted them in the far back plot.
Two years ago we finally bought a rototiller and dug up a corner plot next to the patio. A friend gave me a hydrangea and it lives in the corner. Seeds from the black-eyed susans blew in from the back plot and volunteered to grow; and a purple climates has begun to fill the spaces in an old metal frame. And last fall, we rototilled another plot some eighteen feet long and five wide that runs from the willow down to the patio.
Another friend dug up iris roots from her garden to give me those old grape-pop smelling purple iris I remember from my childhood along with the yellow iris that grows wild along Kansas roadsides. I transplanted the peony who weren’t happy against the back fence and three hazelnut bushes I'd received from the Arbor Society. I put in rhubarb and butterfly weed. My son transplanted surviving baby trees closer to the back porch: one dogwood, one redbud.
This summer, we built two square-foot, raised-bed gardens next to the patio (I'd tried a garden in the back plot, that didn't work at all), and we've had a kitchen garden all summer with lettuce and peas, tomatoes and cucumbers, and now fall beans and lettuce. The iris bloomed gloriously this spring, the hydrangea is happy and full, I've had mounds of black-eyed susan and roses, and the willow has doubled in height. Only two or three small, white fungus heads appeared through the grass this year.
But the victory part of the garden arrived in the heat of this August. One day, I noticed a goldfinch eating seed heads in the back garden by the next day, four had arrived; another day, I noticed a hummingbird; soon, butterflies were visiting the butterfly weed. Yea!
I've been feeding safflower seeds to the birds this summer which eliminated grackles in the yard, and to that I've added socks of thistle seed. Finches have arrived in flocks! I hung a sugar water feeder in one corner for the hummingbird and have seen three more come visiting. Refueling for migration has begun.
I guess I could have achieved similar results if we'd hired someone to build a garden that first year, but it wouldn't have been as satisfying. Along with a sanctuary for birds and butterflies, it's become mine as well. When I work in the garden, I don't have to think; I just do. As with the birds and butterflies, the garden has given me a safe place to refuel. And that, in itself, is a victory.
Note To Reader:
For more of Janet's writing you can go to http://janetsunderland.wordpress.com
Posted by Urban Growth KC at 9/3/2010 11:38 AM 
Categories: Gardening
Tags: local gardening the backyard garden waldo
Categories: Gardening
Tags: local gardening the backyard garden waldo
Comments