The blooms this year have been heavy, profuse, and on average about three weeks earlier than I remember. My journal bears me out! I keep hearing people exclaiming that they have never seen their climbing roses so overflowing with blooms. This year my Stewartia monodelpha bloomed in early June rather than July. I sadly reflect that this new blooming cycle represents the drought and serious climatic change we are experiencing here in the Northwest.
Now, with this plethora of blooms, we know that the plants are stressed, and the challenge will be to nurture them through the summer and fall seasons ahead. I certainly do not have the answers, and I am more than a bit worried, but I do have some suggestions.
I would urge you to withhold heavy fertilizing schedules. A little feeding might be appropriate if your plants have always been fed during the spring and summer seasons. But think about how you feel after a bout with the flu. Some homemade chicken soup or a warm dish of macaroni and cheese feels so much better than a fiery serving of pepper-encrusted barbecued steak.
The point that I am trying to make is that the climatic conditions have shifted during the last few years. We have not had very cold winters and therefore the "bug" population has not been thinned. We have had unseasonably warm weather early in the growing season. Our plants are adjusting as fast as they can, but this is hard work and many of them may not have the strength to continue.
It helps to be aware of these changes and then make your own decisions on how you want to nurture your plants. There are no right answers, but you can figure appropriate approaches yourself. For example, I do not fertilize my rhododendrons but I heavily mulch them. However, one struggling young pup is getting a light feeding, on a weekly basis, of fish emulsion.
With this evenly balanced fertilizer I am hoping that it will give just enough quiet and additional strength to the plant. I am also watering very deeply and earlier in the season this year. For those of you with drip irrigation systems, do remember to give your plants a refreshing shower wash in order to remove layers of dust and pollen on their leaves.
It takes time to think about these options. While I was visiting a very beautiful and complex garden a few weeks ago, I mentioned, in passing, about the amount of time I find myself in the garden, just thinking about all of its aspects. The garden creator nearly fell to her knees, exclaiming "yes Madeleine, it takes so much time." Funny how all the garden books never factor in this aspect of garden-making.
The established portions of my garden feel so fragile this year (or is it me?). An established red maple seems much twiggier and thin - or is it that I have never studied it so closely? The cool weather of this past June - what is it doing to the growth? I know that the June rains made the slugs very happy - ooh, nice wet slime. But with the full leafing out of the deciduous trees, I know that none of the rain permeated the soil. Many people think and garden with the idea of England, with its summer rainfall. But if you follow your finger on a globe from Seattle, tracing the latitude, you will find yourself in southern France, a Mediterranean climate where there are no rains in the summer.
Established plants in a Northwest garden, from similar climatic regions, have adapted and will thrive (hopefully) here. Your rosemary and lavender will thrive in this drought.
People ask me, "Will we have a hot summer?" I haven't a clue, but I have a sneaking suspicion that the weather will be newly dramatic. Remember in June when it was so cool in the mornings and evenings that many of us guiltily turned on our furnaces? Then suddenly, and I mean suddenly, we had three days of temperatures above 80 degrees. A few of my plants went south before I could get them a deep soak. Yet, it had been so damp and cool - how could they fail so suddenly? I still do not know.
All of these challenges are daunting, but we will learn. We are gardeners. I am reminded once again of the great quote from gardener John Heathcoat-Amory, "Eleven months of hard labor with one month of keen disappointment." Or, when you are planning a great gathering, you find that the garden really was spectacular - last week.[[In-content Ad]]
