By JOHN H. HOUGH
Early spring in the garden. The winter has ground on with a freeze-thaw pattern that has mostly left the soil unworkable. We have been eager to get out there and put shovel to earth. The list of tasks in our garden stretches on into the indeterminate distance. At the end of last season I embarked on a small garden expansion that had all the hallmarks of what I am certain make gardening fun. Besides the earth to be moved and sifted there was a series of rocks that needed to be displaced. Two of these rocks each weighed well over 1,000 pounds. A 4-ton come-along, a wire and gear contraption capable of moving 8,000 pounds, along with some patience, removed the two. The come-along did not survive the second stone; a pin near the bottom hook sheered off, causing the whole setup to jump and startling the operator. I did eventually get the second stone out, but neither will move far from the boundary of the garden in the short term. I need to be careful in moving stones and digging in soil in the fall and winter months. A multitude of beneficial animals have bedded down for the cold months in leaf piles and under rocks. All manner of insects huddle in leaf piles, waiting for the warming rays of spring. Under rocks it is not uncommon to find a salamander hunkering down and once I even disturbed a nest of snakes bedding down for the winter. These animals are all important pieces in a complex ecosystem so I try not to harm them or their habitat, if possible, though gardening is about turning over soil and pulling weeds. If I left this patch of dirt alone the woods would close in around it in two years, leaving only the faint outlines of garden beds among the rusting fencing.
A lady slipper blooms outside the garden.
The additional space calls for an extension of the garden fence, both above and below the soil. Two years ago, in response to the incursion of a groundhog, I sank poultry netting a foot and a half into the ground around the garden. Poultry netting, chicken wire to some, is not tough fencing. It is light and relatively inexpensive, two qualities that attracted me to this solution. After a year in the soil the thin strands of steel have rusted and the newest groundhog, who moved in after our last met his end, has been able to simply push the rusted netting aside and gorge himself on my hard work within. The whole garden needs to be re-enforced against this menace. The Commonwealth of Massachusetts is clear on the most viable legal solution to remove groundhogs from your property, and I did not have the heart for a rodent execution last fall.
The expansion of the garden will likely extend into the late spring, more likely the summer depending on how much, or little, free time comes my way. The most important thing is to secure the garden for the summer months. The woodchuck may be the most-destructive visitor, but that furry ball of frustration and defoliation is not alone. Deer, rabbits, chipmunks, mice and my children, just to name a few, all visit this area and, even under adult supervision, can do some real damage to crops.
Deer are an interesting lot; they have virtually no predators locally aside from the automobile. In some areas they are outpacing the land’s ability to support their population. Many homeowners have stepped outside in the morning to find their hard work in the garden whittled down to nubs. Deer can jump, too. A 5-feet-tall garden fence is little more than a minor inconvenience for them. In summer they blend seamlessly into the surrounding landscape, masters of camouflage. I see them more often in winter, when the foliage is less. In the morning it is not uncommon to see two or three deer calmly grazing at the edge of the lawn. If something compels me to go outside while they are browsing, say to get in the car to go to work, three more often than not make themselves known with their crashing through the underbrush, white tails disappearing into the woods. To address this I have strung netting above the fencing to a height of 10 feet. In seven years I have not seen a single hoofprint in the garden soil.
The most-important thing about pest control is patience. Gardening is by design an attempt to harness nature, a force that does not take kindly to meddling. Working with the landscape, rather than to your own ends, yields the best results. This includes acknowledging that garden pests exist and learning to move with the flow will make the experience more enjoyable.
Our former woodchuck resident browsing at his leisure in the garden.
In early March I have started seeds indoors, well before the ground is workable. They sit in a sunny, out-of-the-way spot, protected from curious cats and tiny fingers in a small shelf shrouded in plastic. I start most seeds by planting a growing group in a single 6-inch plastic pot and bottom watering it, that is, putting it in a tray of water so the potting soil absorbs the moisture from the bottom up. Once the first true leaves appear, the first green things are called the cotyledons and are used by the seeds to help feed themselves. With the seedlings emerging I drop the whole mess out of the pot and pick up each individual plant by the leaf to be transplanted into individual pots and bottom watered with a solution that includes a water-soluble organic fertilizer. From there it is a matter of monitoring the progress of the plants, ensuring they get enough light and the right amount of water. When the weather warms they will be moved out-of-doors, preferably to a cold frame, if I can remember to reassemble it. A cold frame is a small box with a glass lid I used to have out by the garden. The purpose is to acclimate seedlings before planting them in the soil to minimize shock.
By mid- to late April the danger of frost is past and I can safely start putting seeds and seedlings into the ground. Each year brings with it a new set of weather challenges. Some years the frost danger seems to linger late into the month. I have noted May afternoons where snow flurries blow through the yard. Other years the April rains pour down, surely washing out May’s flowers and turning the garden into a boot-sucking morass. We take it all in stride. It is just nice to be out-of-doors.
The first buds bloom throughout the woods and the sun radiates some warmth as spring matures. It is a variable season on Cape Cod. The ocean’s influence on the climate means we are slower to warm in the early months, but the season does come to pass.