Picking Up Sticks
Late winter in New England is never an easy time. The weather turns quickly, changing from frigid, to raw (a term I never used for the weather until I came to Connecticut), to warm, and then back again to cold or raw. Wet and heavy snow, like the kind we had a few weeks ago, seems to occur at least once this time of year. This year’s storm was worse than most. Although the snow itself melted quickly afterwards, its destruction is still evident, especially west of the nursery into Bedford, Katonah, and Chappaqua.
There is something disconcerting about seeing the tops of mature trees snapped off like so many matchsticks. Even worse: older trees torn in two where the weight of the snow exposed unknown structural weaknesses.
The snow was followed by warm sunny weather, and then another storm. This storm brought rain and hurricane force winds and again the trees suffered. Communities to our south: Greenwich, Stamford, and Norwalk, suffered most. Fully grown, 100+ year old trees were uprooted and windblown across fences, walls, and roads.
The weather has turned again. The first day of spring is officially upon us with seventies and sun in the forecast. And so this weekend I will perform an annual spring ritual. Signaled by the earthy smell of thawing soil I go out to my yard to pick up sticks—this year some much bigger than usual. But that’s not all I do. As I walk about I look for this winter’s plant casualties and survivors. Though this day is not meant to be a full-fledged spring clean up, it is the perfect opportunity to reassess the condition of my garden and spend some time with the kids outside.
Winter damage will be obvious in some spots, like where the plow guy tore up that patch of lawn near the driveway…AGAIN! Other losses won’t be known until later, after the perennials emerge and the gaps in the border stand out like so many missing teeth in an otherwise perfect smile. As I walk among the fallen branches I discover that the earliest bloomers have arrived. Spring ephemerals I might have otherwise missed, like crocus and snow drops, are in full flower. So too are the hellebore, known also as Lenten Rose, which is fitting since Easter is just a couple of weekends away.
Like everything in life, in gardening we must take the good with the bad. Rather than dwell upon the loss of a favorite shade tree shattered by the storm, I choose to look at this event as an opportunity to grow sun loving plants in a previously shady spot. Or I might plant a new tree to take its place, an act which I believe is the surest sign of faith in the future. After all, spring is a time of rebirth, and in the garden, as in life, we can pick up where we left off and start again.
By Daryl Beyers
Landscape Designer