When November begins to unfold, at least in our region, the garden is pretty much, with the exception of some herbs and maybe some root crops, ready to rest until the ground can be broken in the spring.
With this in mind, it is important to remember that rest is not only good for the garden but good for the gardener as well. By August I am tired and, in many cases, ready to throw in the trowel, as battling bugs and funguses and critters and blights is, after all, tiresome. September and October fly by with final harvests and cleanup.
There is nothing natural about gardening. Mother Nature does not plant in beds, borders or neat little rows. She does not use black plastic to keep weeds at bay or drip irrigation to keep moisture levels at their peak. She does not have a rain barrel conveniently installed beneath the haphazardly placed downspout on the barn.
Gardening is expensive. Dont believe anyone when they tell you how much money you are going to save by growing your own food. They are either lying or delusional. I could buy organic produce from vendors at the farmers market for less than what it costs to grow the same produce in my own garden.
When you factor in the cost of seeds, peat pots, plants, seed-starting mix, soil amendments, fencing material, tools, gloves, mulch, stakes, posts, chicken-wire, landscaping fabric for the hoop house, preservation supplies and the time, only an independently wealthy person would want to be a gardener.
Gardening is work. Allow me to rephrase that. Gardening is incessant, backbreaking work that if left undone becomes even more work. In the spring it doesnt seem so bad. Filling our pink lungs with fresh, spring air and breaking a sweat beneath the layers of a thermal and an oversized flannel is exhilarating and leaves our cheeks with a rosy glow that is reminiscent of the radishes that will emerge from the weed-free soil in a matter of weeks.
In July, after nine straight days of high humidity and temperatures above 90 degrees, nothing is growing except the weeds that still need to be pulled. The rain barrels are empty because it hasnt rained since Easter and you find yourself dragging 300 feet of hose across the yard. You become so dehydrated you ponder driving yourself to the emergency room, but with a realistic fear that you wont actually make it you start drinking straight from the hose that, nowadays, is made from some kind of plastic that will probably shave five years off your life if you even put your lips near it.
But gardeners are risk-takers. Each year we plant seeds that might not sprout. We provide elaborate trellises for climbing plants that might succumb to pests or disease. We handpick bugs and drown them in buckets of soapy water, even though there is always some left behind to continue to procreate and destroy our harvest. We dig trenches for fences so clever groundhogs and raccoons wont dig under to enter the smorgasbord of tasty foods and yes, we even drink from hoses.
The five months ahead will prove to be a worthwhile rest. There will still be nightly visits to the garden to put kitchen scraps in the compost. As leaves begin to dry they can be added to the bin so it stays hot even when the air is cold.
The garden takes on a ghostly appearance in winter. Nothing is growing and the few creatures that visit are unable to find anything to eat. Below the surface is another story. Pests and disease are surely lurking and waiting to make an appearance next year as they always do to keep me from ever fully controlling Mother Nature. The reward is worth the effort. Food from the garden does more than nourish us and taste better than anything we could buy. For some of us, the need to garden is simply a part of who we are.
