A Peripatetic June Garden Journal
Sometimes in the juggling act of starting new projects and tending to the pruning, watering, and weeding of those already in play, it’s difficult to find time to just enjoy where you are in the horticultural year. This morning, after several days of rain, I had the luxury of a long walk with no real purpose other than to take in everything Willow Greens Farm has to offer on a bright early summer day.
The White Garden was humming along at full capacity—and I do mean humming. The Salvias, Campanulas and Echinacea were swarmed with fuzzy bumblebees, workaday honey bees, and a variety of hover flies and fast moving moths. Because of the rain, every plant was lumbering under its own weight, and I’m regretting that I’ve delayed the Chelsea Chop to late June. It’s true that the Philadelphus has gone over, and the Windermere roses are in a bit of an interregnum, but there’s still plenty of action to come as the Calamint and Astrantias are just limbering up for a July debut.
The Croquet Lawn is still fresh and the Beech Hedge is filling in nicely. I’m hoping that the drip irrigation line, coupled with the leaf mould mulch, will help retain the moisture the new roots need. The intrusion of the unsightly flags and paint is a necessary evil. Our next step is to begin planting larger trees for the Woodland Walk and this drunken and quite unpredictable path represents the trench that holds the water and electric lines to the barn. I would never have guessed that they meandered this way, so I’m hoping the work of Mr. Line Locator will ensure that I don’t put an auger through a water main.
Turning right into the meadow you feel the temperature start to rise. Cut in late March, the mixture of grasses, weeds, and vines that constitutes our unruly patch has jumped back to full strength and as you walk, the air is moist and minty. At first glance it seems that Wood Ticks make up most of the population, but a closer look reveals dozens of flying and crawling insects. There seems to be a lot of activity around the Milkweed (we have some, but I’d love more) as beetles and bees feast on the leaves and purple flowers. No Monarch Butterfly eggs just yet, but they’ll be there soon. Then I’ll have to take a quick walk down the gravel road to find the convenient bit of wetlands that hosts hundreds of milkweed plants and I’ll begin turning leaves over in earnest, searching for beautiful caterpillars.
Managing this pasture will always be difficult. Non-native, invasive plants such as Stiltgrass and Multiflora Rose are a constant threat, but even overpowering natives—like the wild Rubus brambles—can turn the space into monoculture in a couple of seasons. Right now I’m trying to keep things in check with well-timed mowing, but it has a limited effect. In consultation with The Clifton Institute, there may be some targeted use of glyphosate and even controlled burning in our future. I’m not a big fan of either of these, but the long-term health of the pasture may require some drastic intervention.
Coming in through the back gate into the Kitchen Garden I’m struck by how things have come on in the past week. The indeterminate tomatoes are nearly five feet tall, and my aversion to pruning has ensured that the foliage to fruit ratio is not ideal. Nonetheless, I’m sure well have plenty of Brandywines, New Girls, and San Marzanos in the next month. We’ve been harvesting beets for a couple of weeks and today we pulled up the first carrots and dug the first potatoes. Plenty more where those came from. There’s one last row of peas to harvest and we’ll flip that bed to either newly thinned Leeks, or I may start some Fennel for both bulbs and as food for Swallowtail Butterflies. The beans look good, although I did remove and banish my first Mexican Bean Beetle yesterday.
A quick trip through the Entry Garden finds many of the newly planted perennials (raised in the greenhouse) putting on a bit of a sulk. The Foxgloves (a variety described by Johnny’s to bloom in the first year) are doing well and pushing up spikes. Some of the David Austin Roses have bloomed, albeit on very small canes, and the scent is strong. The Lavender Campanulas, Pink Salvias, and Stachys all look good, and of course the Verbenas are thriving. But trouble looms on the horizon: the Borage, Myosotis, and Larkspur seeds that I broadcast to fill in the gap are threatening to take over.
Circling back to the White Garden I realize that I’m most pleased with the diversity of insects, birds, and reptiles that continue to share our space. Whether it’s at the feeders, among the ornamental plants, or out in the wilder spaces, it seems that the real residents of Willow Greens Farm live not in the house, but out in the fields.
Oh, and some new interloper seems to have taken up residence on the Terrace . . .
Thanks for taking us along on your stroll!
This is gorgeous. I feel as if I'm actually walking the paths and meeting all the creatures with you.