Usually, we refer to the last two weeks in August and then moving into the first part of September as the dog days of Summer. Many millennia ago, this late summer heat was thought to come from the heat and brightness of the star Sirius, often called the Dog Star. The star filled the summer sky with its brightness. However, here in the Northwest, that promised August-September heat has been scarce this year. You might wonder about whether the star is still shining so brightly? And when you add in the last few totally unseasonable day- and nightlong downpours, you cannot help but ask, "What is a dedicated gardener to do?"
But it is not only gardeners -
just think about the rained-out weddings, picnics, ballgames and all of our other summer pleasures. This is also so embarrassing for those of us eager to be perfect hosts for our out-of-town visitors. We smile weakly, provide them with umbrellas, sweaters and coats and hope that our family ties or friendships will endure past their visit this year.
Meanwhile, in spite of the current strange weather patterns, the garden is a quiet place. Yes, winter vegetables can be started and there are all the wonderful harvesting chores, but there is a pause and a time to reflect on some important future ideas for the garden and for your neighborhood.
What?????
Yes, years ago it was a warm summer evening when I first engaged my neighbors in a discussion about getting more street trees. We plotted and planned and learned about the city of Seattle's free trees for neighborhood projects. Now our streetscape is starting to become unified and really speaks to the concept of developing a sense of place. It seems a small effort in the larger framework of the ongoing projects to re-green our cities, but the experience of working with my neighbors and learning about their landscape ideas and sharing some fine stories and bad jokes is a treasured memory, and as valuable as the maturing plantings.
Within your own garden it is time to leisurely take stock. With notepad in hand, write down the names of all the perennials you will be lifting and dividing in a month or so. Do some informal sketches of areas that seem to be too bare. Would spring bulbs be the answer, or maybe the bare spots can be filled with the perennial plant divisions. Also, make a list of people or places that can use all the plethora of plants that will occur with your dividing work this fall. If you know some friends who could or would be interested in your plants, invite them over to see your stock and get their names on your lists.
The other evening I strolled the garden with two dear friends who were very interested in some of my plants, but ferociously adamant about my red-hot poker plants. They do not now or in the future want those plants in their garden. I was startled and bemused, and in retrospect I figure I will never really know about their dislike. The good news is that other friends will have more of the plants for their gardens!
Indulge in this late summer season's slower pace. Wish for some more warm evenings before autumn chills settle in. Put aside your hopes for "garden perfection" and revel in all of our gardens' exuberance. Sit quietly without any modern distractions - cell phones, Blackberries, et al. - and hear the summer sounds. It does take some time to tune past the noise of the planes, the at-times-raucous cawing of the crows, the neighbor's ongoing and persistent annoying noise habits. Eventually a sense of the late summer's warm sounds break through. We need to hear these sounds in order to keep them close as we head into the dark and cold of our winter season.[[In-content Ad]]
