The morning after the first hard frost it
always seems like some great mistake had been made, like an abrupt, unfortunate ending to a really
good party. And even though the gardener was pretty darn tired at season’s end
and secretly longed for frost, even after the radio predicted temps well below
freezing, even after all these years as a gardener, every year it is still a
bit of a shock.
Yesterday a thousand Zinnias colored the south
field, slightly tarnished at the tail end of the season it is true, but still
bright and lovely. Early this morning, as the light returned and the weak
autumn sun melted the frost laying on ground and foliage, both the leaves and
blossoms of the Zinnias are undeniably brown. The party is over, Celosia,
Ageratum, Marigolds, and Dahlias, all shades of brown, all dead. And even
worse, some are slimy, especially the Dahlias.
Nothing to do now but drink an extra cup of
green tea and read a little something while I wait for the world outside to
warm up a few degrees. Then I’ll “suit up” in my flannel lined denims and
multiple layers of fleece and cotton on top and head out to feed the animals
first, pigs and chickens. Then I’ll dive into the task of pulling up the annual
flowers and hauling them to the compost pile, with special attention to the
Dahlias, our plant of the week. (More on Dahlias in a minute).
In case you are wondering what the gardener
might read in the space between chores, I can highly recommend A Curable Romantic by Joseph Skibell.
Dara Holmes called the book, “Brilliant. . . astonishingly original. . . what
life on earth might actually mean.”, and I am inclined to agree. This novel has
Sigmund Freud, Esperanto, Jewish mysticism, and the nature of Evil all roiling
about in a stunning plot. Not a perfect book, I thought it might benefit from a
bit of editing in the middle, but
what inspired work ever is perfect?
Now for some useful information about Dahlias:
they are a dramatic and very worthwhile cut flower, not as mysterious or
difficult as many gardeners believe. Dahlias are a tender perennial, which
means the tubers must be dug up and stored over the winter in a cool, but not
freezing location. An unheated basement or a garage attached to the house is
perfect. Dahlias are stunning in floral arrangements, or float a single blossom
in one of those fancy bowls you inherited from your mum but never use. Slowing
down to enjoy a single flower is a rare event these days and worthwhile
endeavor. Dahlias will meet you more than half way, catching your eye from
across the room and almost winking seductively.
In New England, Dahlias are best planted in
April, about two weeks after the ground can be worked and, surprisingly, while
the nights are still below freezing. This is because they take at least three
weeks to break dormancy and emerge from the ground. By this time, the weather
will have settled and nights are warmer. Give them lots of room in one of your
best full sun locations. patience is required as they have lots of growing to
do before producing those juicy, giant flowers. By mid-July or so, the plants
will begin to bloom and not stop until the hard frost. It might be worthwhile
to stake the best varieties before then, while you can still identify the
flowers, to make especially sure you dig those. The tubers are likely to double
each year, so some selection (or sharing) is a good idea.
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