October ends and everything looks great. The pothos is still pushing new leaves, the fiddle leaf fig hasn’t dropped a thing since August, and you haven’t changed a single part of your routine. Then it’s December and half of them look like they’ve been through something. November is the month houseplants die. Not dramatically — … Read more
Walk into a room and you can usually date it in four seconds. The lamp. The rug. And the plant in the corner. Designers notice the plant first. Not because they’re snobs about greenery, but because a plant is the one thing in the room that can be visibly failing. Brown tips. A bare trunk. … Read more
Every October the same argument plays out in driveways and garden club Facebook groups. One neighbor shears the hostas to the ground the second the leaves yellow. The other leaves the whole mushy mess standing until April. Both camps swear they’re right. Both plants come back. So the question isn’t really survival — hostas are … Read more
Walk into a room and you can usually guess the decade before you look at the furniture. It’s the plants. A twisted dracaena in blue marbles puts you in 2001. A fuzzy violet on a doily puts you in your grandmother’s kitchen. A fiddle-leaf fig in a woven basket says 2016 so loudly you can … Read more
The sliding doors open. Cold air rolls across forty poinsettias stacked three shelves high, and every one of them is already losing. Holiday plants are the fastest-moving, worst-handled crop in American retail. They’re grown on a deadline, shipped in unheated trailers, staged in entryways, and priced to move before anyone notices the damage. Some of … Read more
November in her yard smelled like wet leaves and cold dirt. The flowers were gone. The tomato cages were stacked against the garage. Anybody driving by would’ve said the gardening season was over, and she let them think it. But she was out there in a barn coat and gloves with the fingertips worn through, … Read more
Walk into the back room of any independent garden center and look at the windowsill. You won’t find the plant on the front display. No fiddle leaf fig. No $90 variegated anything in a concrete pot. You’ll find a chipped nursery pot with a pothos in it that somebody rooted in a coffee mug six … Read more
Snow on the ground. Feeder topped off. Chickadees working it all morning. And not one cardinal. It’s the most frustrating thing in winter bird feeding, because cardinals don’t migrate. They’re out there right now, within a few hundred yards of your house, roosting in somebody’s spruce. They just picked a different yard than yours. Usually … Read more
October smelled like woodsmoke and wet leaves at her house. The garden was half wrecked — blackened tomato vines, a bean row gone to string — and she was out there anyway in a cardigan and rubber boots. She wasn’t cleaning up. She was setting things up. Almost everything that went right in her garden … Read more
The plant rack by the garden center exit is designed to catch you on the way out. Four dollars. Nine dollars. Nineteen for something that looks like it belongs in a magazine. Most of those plants will be dead within ninety days. A few of them can hurt your dog first. The problem isn’t that … Read more
Walk past a yard in mid-April that’s already going off — daffodils by the hundred, a peony fat with buds, grass so green it looks fake — and you’re not looking at spring work. You’re looking at last October. Fall is when soil stays warm while air turns cool, which is the exact combination roots … Read more
The seed rack at the garden center didn’t always exist. Neither did the plastic clamshell of nursery transplants, the bottle of concentrated plant food, or the bag of mulch that costs more than the plant it surrounds. She had a wire ring behind the garage. A coffee can. A pencil. And somehow the garden fed … Read more
Her garden shed smelled like twine, rust and old coffee grounds. Nothing in it came from a garden center. There was a coffee can of nails, a hoe worn thin on one side, a stack of newspapers, and jars — always jars. A folded feed sack by the door for kneeling. Not one plastic clamshell, … Read more
The neighbor’s new deck looks straight into your patio. You noticed it in July, stewed about it in August, and now it’s October and you figure you’ve missed your shot until spring. You haven’t. You’re actually standing in the best planting window of the year. Cool air slows the top growth while warm soil keeps … Read more
There’s a peony in somebody’s front yard right now that was planted before the Second World War. Nobody feeds it. Nobody waters it. The house has changed hands four times. Every May it throws out a dozen fat pink blooms anyway. That’s the whole idea behind this list. Some plants are a project. Others are … Read more
