The 2020 Garden in Review + Plans for 2021
The 2020 gardening year ended, sadly, on a “low” note. I’m qualifying the “low” because I have a tendency to view anything that appears to fall short of my idealized plans in a crabbier light than I ought to- despite fully knowing the following: that germed within every failure is an opportunity.
After executing a handful of plans and projects I had been dreaming about for slightly over a year, I found myself wondering, after having gotten through them, if it wouldn’t have been better had I not gone through with them at all, as they are now appearing to cause me more problems than having solved any. That being said, aside from what I’m listing as failures, there are, indeed, other completed projects which cannot but fairly be labelled as anything other than successes. And yet, my aforementioned crab-like disposition makes it so these triumphs will almost always initially lay in the shadow of the failures until I shed myself of my crustacean-y ways (something which can only happen by either genetic modification, or lots of self-pep talking.)
Thus, with all that said, I’ll list below both the lows and the highs of the 2020 Garden, and the plans I have for the 2021 Garden, with hopes that by the end of writing this, I will have put these experiences into a more objective light, possibly changing the way in which I view how the 2020 gardening year ultimately went as a whole.
The Lows:
The Swale
As documented in “Plans, or the Ramblings of a Masochistic Gardener”, I began to build a swale and a rain garden as a remedy for a leak that had lived in our basement for two decades. I can safely say that after two months of stealing too many two hour periods out of too many days of the week to dig this much too large of a swale, the attempt was, ultimately, unsuccessful.
When I first discovered this, I was horribly let down. - I acknowledge, however, that this feeling was likely a result of all the feelings I had allowed myself to feel prior. I recalled that all the while I was digging and grading the slope, I’d occasionally stop to marvel at how beautiful what I thought I was doing was. I admired the perfection of the angles I was creating, the delicacy of the slopes that were both going down towards the street and away from the house. I devoted myself completely to the act, shovelful by shovelful, so much so that it led me into a state where I was seamlessly having conversations with God. Really. And they were many and each individually wonderful. During the final two weeks of my finishing out the last part of the main leg of the project, no rain fell. I became convinced that The Divine delayed the rain so that I could finish out this phase of the project without interruptions.
- But when the rains finally did come, I discovered, to my horror, that water still seeped in through the crack. Goddamnit.
Before I go on complaining though, I must acknowledge that the amount of water that was entering into the house at this point had lessened significantly due to the regraded slope. Nevertheless, I couldn’t not focus on the fact that all the efforts I had given to building the swale didn't fully resolve the problem. -So, after sulking for a day or two, I bit the bullet and decided to use a method I discovered for sealing basement cracks amongst the DIY gold that can be found on the internet. I first encountered this method during my earliest stages of researching and planning for how to go about fixing the leak. It entails adhering “injection ports” to the wall over where the crack is with a putty-like substance, waiting for said putty to cure thus ensuring that the ports are stable, and then lastly injecting a polyurethane concoction into the ports, which would seep into the cracks, expand, and solidify, therefore blocking the water from entering into the house.
If you’re finding that you feel your eyes and head are floating around, detached from your body, don’t worry. This is the same sensation that overcame me upon my first run through of the steps involved with this method. Along with what I have described above, there are, what feels like, an infinite amount of smaller sub-steps between the larger steps, which each require perfect execution lest the entire project be compromised. The duration of this project is supposed to be a couple of hours, but knowing me and my penchant for doing things slowly, I estimated it would easily take up to over half a day to a full day to complete.
You can see why then upon first review, all of this seemed entirely too tedious, lengthy, and beyond what I thought was within my capability of handling. But before going further, I should add that even B., who is the handiest, and most unafraid person of complicated, tedious projects I know, also shirked at the job for fear of inadvertently making the leak worse, and ultimately declined to engage me further on this project. Yet, at this point, after having dug a massive swale over the course of two months at two hour blocks each session- a feat which I had also initially considered beyond my capabilities- another full day’s worth of physical and mental exhaustion seemed little in comparison to the amount of energy I had already dedicated to this cause.
Well, miraculously, the injection solution worked; and every rainstorm which has visited us since, has come and passed, leaving behind not one bit of moisture to be detected anywhere near or around what is now to be referred to as the former leak. Hallelujah!
The Leak, which required two buckets to capture the water it let in, should, according to the years it has existed, be a sophomore in college now.
Injection ports adhered to said leak.
Fixed. Don’t judge her by her looks.; she’s a fine piece of work. The creamy colored substance which appears to be dripping, is indeed dried, and is the polyurethane concoction which is stopping the water from coming in.
It is true that ultimately, the project of fixing the leak in the basement was a success. However, I’m now left with an unfinished, and possibly now, unnecessary swale on my hands, to which I must either finish, and reseed grass, or undo, and reseed grass.
I have never seeded grass before. Weeds are already growing all over the swale. Just thinking about this is already giving me a headache. I can’t help but feel I ought to have attempted the polyurethane injection solution earlier, as opposed to first investing hours digging up dirt that had possibly no real need to be dug up. Yet, all the sources I consulted (internet, HGTV, tradesmen, Jesus) did say that firstly, having the soil graded in a slope away from a house, was an overall important feature to have for the sake of preventing problems with the foundation, and that secondly, it was best to see if there weren’t any alterations that could be made to the surrounding environment first, which could potentially resolve the issue before doing any work on the foundation itself. Further, I will say, that it is highly possible that it is in actuality the combination of the re-grading of the soil and the polyurethane injection which has fixed the leak. And because this might be so, I am left with only one option: which is to keep the slope as it is, and finish the swale so that the opposite side is also sloping in nicely, and reseed the grass.
August 2020, The beginnings of The Swale
January 2021.
2. Rain Garden
I built a rain garden right next to the retaining wall under the spot where water gushes out like a waterfall during heavy rainstorms. I did this with the intent that it would collect a good amount of rainwater, thus reducing the deluge which would normally rush out towards the side of the house where the leak in the basement was located, as I suspected the sheer volume of water rushing towards the opening was contributing to the severity of the leak. What I didn’t anticipate was that as I was digging this rain garden, I would discover that the roots of the crape myrtle, which is right next to the waterfall, would be as shallow as they were. I couldn’t cut the roots, as I feared this would kill the tree; so I decided then, to dig “pockets” between the main root systems, so that the roots would still be covered with soil, while a small basin was created between them to collect water. However, when the fall rains came, they eroded away all the soil I had kept around the crape myrtle roots, exposing them almost totally. Despite having heard that crape myrtle roots are hardy, I have no desire to tempt the tree. If the spring comes, and I see any signs of stress on it, I’ll have to pull out all the plants, fill the dirt back in, and start over…or so I say now.
I consider this a low because it feels then, perhaps, disturbing the soil and the roots of the tree, once again, may have been entirely unnecessary, especially now that the leak is fixed. Further, if my experiment results in the death of a tree, I will be endlessly upset with myself. It is true however, that there are many reasons I shouldn’t be sorry if I end up killing the tree: it’s placement isn’t ideal for its species (crape myrtles prefer full sun, while ours was planted in mostly shade); and it isn’t a native. Nevertheless, it does feed pollinators, and it does produce the loveliest flushes of lavender pink (which are always welcome sight at the end of summer when most things are beginning to fade). Though because it doesn’t host any wildlife, I am beginning to think that if the tree did indeed die, I would be given a new opportunity to replace it with a native.
September 2020, Pre-rain garden
October 2020, Rain Garden in all it’s glory, different angle. For reference, Crape Myrtle is to the right of the photo.
November 2020, when the garden was a mess, but the leaves were lovely.
*
In many ways, these two projects ending in the manner that they did makes me believe that 2021 is going to be mostly fixing the mistakes of 2020. I won’t be able to move forward with many of the new planting plans I had until I first address these problems I have created for myself. It is true, however, that no one in the history of endeavoring anything has ever mastered anything without some form of failure. Still, I, being the simple creature that I am, hold onto the hope that I am somehow an exception to this rule.
- Nevertheless, the only way to get past these problems is to view them as opportunities to finally learn how to seed a lawn, a skill I have for some reason, always dreaded to master, and to see just how hardy the reputedly hardy crape myrtle roots really are.
The Highs:
New Plantings
I planted my first natives, and they ran the spectrum of grasses, wildflowers, shrubs, and trees. The highlight among these firsts is the triumph of having planted my first tree: an Eastern Redbud, cercis canadensis. This joy, of course, knowing me, is slightly offset by the fear of wondering whether or not the tree, or any of the natives for that matter, were planted well enough to survive the winter.
First echinacea bloom
At first, there was a cat.
…and then there was a tree. I know it doesn’t look like it, but I swear there is a tree in the center of that black hole.
2. Spring Garden
The fruits of my bulb plantings from the Fall of 2019 (the fall before last), finally arrived in the spring with a marvelous display of daffodils and hyacinths. I recall a neighbor saying to me, “You’re making the rest of us look bad!”, to which my first thought was, “Yes. Good. That was the point.”
Keeping Up with the…Jonquls!!!
I couldn’t resist.
3. Roses + Honeysuckle
The roses and honeysuckle both had a major growth spurt. What began a year ago as plants which were no more than a foot tall for the honeysuckle, and six inches and two feet tall for the roses, are now three shrubs that are all taller than me. If this was supposed to be the year of “creep”, since the first was for “sleep”, I greatly look forward to what the year of “leap” will bring.
June 2019
May 2020
May 2019
June 2020
May 2019
June 2020
I should mention here that the success of the honeysuckle would not be had it not been for B., who, when I mentioned to him last year that I wished to cut the honeysuckle down due to it’s susceptibility to powdery mildew, insisted that I was crazy and making a mistake, as to him, the plant seemed to be overall happy where it was, and that I still hadn’t yet made any adjustments to it (e.g. converting the sprinkler heads to drip irrigation) to be able to make such a definitive judgement that all hope was lost for this plant. As is clear, I ended up agreeing with his assessment, and added the drip irrigation this past spring, thus, allowing the plant to grow into the success that it is. -And despite him shirking at helping me fix the leak, his good advice makes up for it. I think I will keep him around at least for another year.
Side Effects of the Swale
I did, as a necessary first step, before digging the swale itself, save my air conditioner from the ground it was steadily sinking into. I refer to it as a necessary first step because the air conditioner sits at the top of the slope, meaning its lowest point would determine the highest point of the slope from which the rest of the grade would fall from. It was a good task to complete, because prior to fixing the problem, grass clippings, weeds and little rocks were getting lodged into the grating around the unit which undoubtedly would have an effect on its longevity. A/C units being costly pieces of machinery to repair, I see having taken this preventative measure as a boon.
A/C pre-rescue
A/C post rescue, minus last some of the final large pebbles
4. New Beds (Side Effects of the Rain Garden)
In digging up the area needed for the rain garden, there were many plants which weren’t suitable for the conditions of a rain garden, but that I still wished to keep. Thus, I re-homed them in new beds I added to the center of the backyard garden, which I had long made plans to make additions to. The new beds ended up providing space for both the plants which were moved, and also space for all the extra plants I had leftover from overestimating what I would need for the rain garden and “The Hellstrip”. If anything, they can be a holding dock nursery in case anything in the other beds don’t manage to survive, and simultaneously be a good source for cut flowers.
Backyard beds, pre- new addition
Post- Addition. I really need to learn to take more before and after photos from the same angles.
Garden 2021
Plans:
The first thing to move forward with would be to finish acquiring plants for the backwall and planting them out.
I hope to add to the garden the following shrubs:
black chokeberry aronia melanocarpa
pussy willow salix discolor
red twig dogwood, cornus sericea
and the following trees:
bitter berry prunus virginiana
white fringetree chionanthus virginicus
I believe I will also make plans to add smaller native shrubs between the larger ones, creating more cover for wildlife. I’m leaning towards including plants such as sweetspire itea virginica ‘Henry’s Garnet”, purple flowering raspberry rubus odoratus, New Jersey Tea Plant, ceanothus americanus, and common elderberry sambucus canadensis. I also have plans to incorporate plantings from the hydrangea and vaccinium family. If it doesn’t happen along the back wall, I will find spaces for them along the back of the house, opposite the backwall; but this is a planting for a different time.
2. The second thing would be to keep an eye out on the rain garden and the crape myrtle. If anything appears to need to be moved, I must do it in the spring months before the summer sets in.
3. When summer comes, I will begin to finalize the shape of the swale, solarize the weeds, then plant out the grass seeds in the fall. I have already started to get it in my head that instead of letting the water run into the street, I could try to capture it in a small rain garden somewhere away from my house. I am also beginning to toy with the idea of creating a “no mow” grass section. Perhaps this could be a place where the grasses and bugs are simply allowed to be. …But more on this later.
*
I arrive now, after having reviewed the ups ad downs of the last year, as I had hoped, with a renewed excitement for the 2021 gardening year. It has occurred to me as I retraced my steps, that the greatest reason I am often disappointed at the end of each year stems from the fact that I always plan to do way too much. I make an impossibly long list of goals for myself, so that even after having accomplished a great deal of them, the completed goals pall in comparison to what’s still left on my giant list. While I believe the idea of aiming high is noble, the essence I embodied of how to go about it has been inherently wrong. I had been viewing the completion of a task as a means to get to the next task to complete, which effectively made it so that I no longer took pleasure in any of the tasks themselves, as everything was reduced into empty boxes waiting to be check off.
I plan, therefore, this year, to have fewer plans. I’ll make what additions I can, and save for next year what I don’t do this year. I’ll allow myself to relish in the regular annual maintenance tasks, such as pruning roses and evergreens, instead of seeing them as obstacles I must first get past before I can get to what I had been considering “more important” tasks. The garden does not have a hierarchy. No task is too lowly. Each of them works in aggregation with all the rest to contribute to the overall beauty that is the distinct beauty possessed only by gardens.
Thus, with all that said, onwards to The Garden of 2021!