American Pie: Grab-Ass Gardening
The English country garden is never likely to be challenged by its American cousin, says John Merchant in this humorous insight into gardening USofA-style. The North American gardener has to wage all-out war on bugs, beetles, slugs, critters and the weather.
If one lives anywhere between Boston and Baltimore on the east coast of America, or in the hinterland, gardening is a tough assignment. Outside those limits it can be close to impossible.
Before I continue, I have to define “garden” to a British readership. “How arrogant,” I hear you say. Well, there is a transatlantic difference. On this side, if someone inquires if you have a garden, they’re not talking gloxinia, lupines and flocks; more likely tomatoes, cucumber and zucchini.
The traditional “English garden,” beloved by Americans, is a non-starter where I live, near to New York City. A British visitor would be hard pressed to find anything beyond a few evergreens, shrubs, and some rather tired looking lawns in the typical suburb here.
When I first came to live in the US, I attributed this to laziness or disinterest, in a country that offers so many other diversions. The real explanation is climate.
Summers where 32 degree Celsius days are routine, and winter temperatures that can plunge to twenty below for days on end, don’t make for tiered herbaceous borders and velvety lawns.
The north east coastal belt can also experience periodic droughts lasting two or three years, or incessant summer rain. Many suburban dwellings rely on well water, and the owners are reluctant to water their gardens in a drought for fear of running the well dry.
Combine all these factors with an alarming array of garden pests, weeds and critters, and it’s no small wonder that the English country garden is never likely to be challenged by its American cousin. Not that it’s totally impossible to replicate here. One just has to be obsessive enough about it and willing to sell one’s soul for the privilege.
So the alternative is what I have come to know as “grab ass gardening.” On the first warm day of spring, and spring may be just one day, the nurseries that have been bare of plants and people all winter, suddenly fill up with both. SUV’s that normally carry just a couple of kids in the back are stuffed with shrubs; tomato, bean and cucumber plants; saplings, herbs, pansies, impatiens and fertilizer.
Before a week has passed, nursery stocks are depleted and lush growth has replaced the bare garden plots of just a few days ago.
For the next few weeks it’s all out war on bugs, beetles, slugs, critters and the weather. The average suburban garden has a population of critters some small zoos might envy. There are woodchucks, chipmunks, deer, mice, moles, skunks, wild turkey and raccoons. They all appear to love vegetables, and the deer even think tulips are a delicacy.
Providing the gardeners prevail, come July and August they are rewarded by a cornucopia of goodies, far more than any family could consume or give away.
After a few weeks of this excess, interest begins to wane, and by Labour Day at the beginning of September, dies almost entirely. By late October we’ve likely had the first killing frost, and the brown remnants of the bountiful summer are gradually seeping back into the soil from whence they came.
By Christmas, the only evidence anything ever grew there is a few forgotten canes and pieces of chicken wire sticking out of the snow. Winter’s domain is paramount.
Why “grab-ass gardening?” I’ll leave that to your imagination.
* John can be contacted at wordworks@hvc.rr.com
