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For us here in Ohio, in the middle of the continent, the weather does what it does and all of us gardeners are just along for the ride. Powerless to stop it. So, it was notable that 2024 came in like a lamb. A beautiful lamb. Not like the kind you usually see with matted wool and bits of filth clinging to it. Nope, it came in like the kind of lamb you see at 4H contests, perfectly shampooed, groomed and smelling better than you would expect. Glided right in slow and steady with nary a meteorological consequence to speak of. Therefore, we “enjoyed” the kind of peak plant perfection usually reserved for those lucky billions who occupy maritime climates.

 

I say “enjoyed” in quotes because we really can’t enjoy good weather in the Ohio Valley.  For we know all too well that no matter how good things might appear and no matter how long they seem to be lasting, that something bad is about to happen. And, of course, it did. By late May, there were already signs of trouble. Temperatures were significantly warmer than usual. 

Then, in June, we had more heat and, essentially, zero rain.

Precipitation rebounded in July. For most. Not me. A friend of mine, not three miles away as the crow flies, received three 1-inch rainfalls I did not get.

August was again hot and without rain except for a 1-incher in the middle of the month. And an utter lack of our usual humidity did not help a bit. I dragged hoses all month while watching one favorite plant after another cry out for last rites.

September featured no rain as well, except for a 3-inch gulley washer at the end of the month thanks to remnants of Hurricane Helene. Away from home on vacation, I could only worry from afar about drought, washouts and whatever damage the wind had done, knowing that even a 3-inch rain was too little too late. Or, equally, too much too fast.  

October, trace amounts. Sunny days, cool nights. Bright blue skies. I had marveled all summer at how so many trees, whether in forests and even in many yards, watered or not, continued to look green. No frosts to speak of. In the gentle October weather, their Fall color simmered. 

The usual November rains came in warm and wet. By November 28^th, we still had not experienced a hard frost. My poolside containers sported Cuphea and SunPatiens still in bloom easily a month past their usual expiration date. And that Fall color? It finally came and just wouldn’t quit. Especially on the Japanese maples and ginkgo, which looked great into December.

Midsummer, entombed in drought, I had forgotten how incredible Spring had been, and, unable to foresee how wonderful Fall would be, gardening started to feel pointless. Too much work. Not enough reward. But, luckily, Fall did in fact show up. And, in finding the time to go through and name photos from earlier in the year, I was reminded again of how perfect Spring had been.

So, perspective. Seasons come and go. Some are better than others. Some years are better than others. But the long-term rewards of gardening far exceed short term troubles. So, in summation, stress less and garden more. And, over the long run, a wonderful convergence starts to happen—years of your hard gained gardening wisdom combines with the ever-increasing maturity of your garden. And that’s when the stars align. That’s when you begin to see why you persevered past all those frosts and droughts. And even as you head into Winter, you’re already dreaming of another season.    

 

 

Reflections on a Hard Year, A Reminder of Why We Garden originally appeared on GardenRant on December 6, 2024.

The post Reflections on a Hard Year, A Reminder of Why We Garden appeared first on GardenRant.

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