A Sense of the Seasons

by Liz Smitten, Certified Master Gardener

Originally printed in Lubbock Memorial Arboretum Newsletter, December, 2005

The Arboretum, as with any garden, requires almost constant care and attention. Much of the work is done by a dedicated group of volunteers, who start doing early “housekeeping” chores in February, while the ground is still frozen, the wind is more than brisk, and the sun lays gently on the snowy landscape. This is the time we rejoice in seeing the winter jasmine with its warm yellow blooms, smelling the resin fragrance of the juniper grove, and hearing the snap of icy twigs as the day warms up. The coziness of the little brick house that we call our headquarters, and the shared laughter with friends at the end of an afternoon of work more than compensate for the red noses and frozen toes as we stomp our boots, remove our soggy gardening gloves, put up our tools, talk about what we want to grow in the coming year, and finally head for home. During the next few months the weather confounds us by fits and starts, now with an unseasonably balmy day, then by yet another night of plunging temperatures and the threat of snow or ice, and back to shirtsleeve working conditions as we move towards spring.
By early April clumps of pansies and Johnny-jump-ups; drifts of daffodils, crocus, tulips, and hyacinths; the flush of new green on a myriad of perennials and shrubs; and the tiny first leaves of the many self-seeding annuals appear throughout the various beds, along with a healthy crop of cool season weeds which are beginning to set seed. Spring at the Arboretum is a combination of removing the wind-blown dried leaves from the beds; cutting back the ornamental grasses and the perennials which are showing new basal growth; planting the cool season annuals and summer-flowering bulbs, tubers, and corms; pruning and shaping the roses; preparing the beds for the warm season annuals and perennials; and engaging in the everlasting, but soul-satisfying, Battle of the Weeds.
Summer brings long, hot, dry days, and we switch our work schedule to the cooler mornings, watering, deadheading spent blooms from the roses and other flowers, thinning too-crowded plants which have come up from seed, harvesting the summer vegetables, bringing cuttings or plants from our own gardens to share with each other and with the Arboretum, keeping our distance from the red-wing blackbirds who nest in the photinia, and plotting subtly devious battle plans in our continuing efforts to conquer the ever more formidable army of weeds. Summer is the season when we cover ourselves with sun screen, shade our faces with a fashion show of hats, drench ourselves in the distinctive smell of bug spray, and talk about gardens and gardening while we relax with glasses of lemonade at our mid- morning break.
 Then, in a blink of an eye, late summer moves into autumn, and the little brick house is filled with gourds and pumpkins, peanuts and pecans, and the beautiful dried flower arrangements that cause us to remember the splendors of the summer. In the beds and lawns, the warm season weeds too are in full glory, and there is urgency in our efforts, as we try to complete our weeding before their seeds are scattered by the gusty winds. Now we deadhead the mums, dig up the gladioli corms, cut back dying flower stalks, and wait for the first killing freeze, which heralds the last major clean-up of the gardening year. We set our clocks back an hour, dress in layers, and again revert to our afternoon workdays, to avoid the now chilly mornings. This is also the time we pause from our work to stroll through the Arboretum and admire the underlying structure of the gardens; the plumes of the ornamental grasses, the mottled bark of the crape myrtles, the sculptured branches of the desert willow, and the clusters of berries on the hawthorn, Chinese pistache, nandina, euonymus, juniper, bittersweet, and holly which come into their own glory at this time of year.
 Of all the seasons, this is when we seem most blessed, surrounded by our garden and our friends, and looking forward to the promise of another year. Joyous holidays to all!