A Gentle Revenge in the Hollyhocks

Coming back to a garden after two weeks away, at the height of summer, can inspire both dismay and frenzy, and in my case it has at times done both. By now, though, I am mostly an observer of the way in which nature takes over a once-cultivated place. Earlier this spring I made an attempt at planting a few things in the once-vegetable garden: some nasturtiums, a tomato plant, a few sunflowers and nicotiana. After a couple of weeks away I saw it was hopeless; the weeds and grasses that had become established in the past two seasons were so much more vigorous than anything I planted that they spread into the newly-dug areas immediately. I gave up and left them alone; daily attention was required, and I no longer could come close to that. Now, a month and a half later, the nasturtiums are buried in tall grass but their variegated, round leaves look gorgeous as a contrast. A few sunflowers are reaching above the mallows and touch-me-not; they'll bloom in mid-August. The hollyhocks are covered with bindweed, which twines between the stalks in intricate, dancing knots, and today they were pulsating with bumblebees, landing heavily on the strong blossoms and their powdery pollen. At the base of the hollyhocks, the tomato plant looks like it will produce some fruit, but it would like a little more room.

Letting go is being made easier by our neighbors. Today I saw that the people uphill from us have sprayed a huge swatch of the once-wildlife-rich underbrush separating our properties with weedkiller; the ground is scorched, bare, and ugly; the wild grapevines and sumac that sheltered a cardinal family every year are now gone, ready to be replaced by lawn which will be mown by the lawn service they hire. They are idiot suburbanites masquerading as "outdoors people" with their canoes and offroad vehicles, and they're symptomatic of every reason I no longer feel like living here in the village. Our quiet and beloved Icelandic neighbors left at the end of June to begin the next phase of their life; the next week direct-TV dishes were installed on the house's front, and the backyard filled with plastic play equipment; a radio now plays all day long. On the other side of us, a white-painted tire planted with bright pink impatiens has been placed on the stump of the huge maple that used to tower over our street; those neighbors to the west have been singlehandedly responsible for cutting the two oldest, tallest, and loveliest trees in the neighborhood.

Nature and I are patient, however. The honeysuckles, pin cherries and hemlocks we planted on the border of our property with them are thick now and full of birds; beyond them is a big stand of Jerusalem artichokes, six feet tall and covered with blooms in the fall. When we abandoned our vegetable garden, I carefully left a volunteer maple tree that had come up in the middle from seed shed by the very tree the neighbors had cut down. It's been growing for several years, and this year has really shot up; it's much taller than I am now, and growing strongly. I'm hoping that by the time we finally leave this house, it will be a nice enough tree that the new occupants will want to leave it. Before long, it will shade the back of our yard -- and the neighbors' as well.

And as around every old New England foundation, I think there's a good chance that there will be old apple trees and hollyhocks here, with their oblivious and busy bees, long after we're gone: reminders that a gardener once lived here.

Comments

[Scott]

News has it that tropical birds are appearing more frequently in Canada. I'd guess that bumblebees have been there for quite a while already. When you discover the community garden in the 'hood, just remember that in Montreal, the sun sets in the north, and all will be well........letting go is scary, especially when one does it in a big way, but all shall be well, and all manner of things, etc.

[beth]

Thanks, Scott.

[Mouse]

There is a house near the village that has been long-abandoned and left to the ivy and grasses, shrubs and small trees that have now totally covered it. On some still evenings I swear I hear the stones sighing as they settle back into the earth...

To everything there is a season...

[dignam]

Hello!

I'm commenting here because it appears that you close comments to previous entries.

My name is David Schneider. I'm the founder/editor of an online magazine of arts and ideas called The Boy Bedlam Review (http://www.boybedlamreview.com). I was very taken with your three-part meditation on Eliot and Heaney (The Wasteland and Bog People) and would very much like to reprint it for the next issue of The Boy Bedlam Review. We will, of course, provide links to this blog as well as any other of your endeavors you'd like to promote.

Please take a look at the site -- I think you'll be pleasantly surprised -- and let me know what you think.

Thank you very much.

Sincerely,
David Schneider
Editor
http://www.boybedlamreview.com

[marja-leena]

What a stunning photo, Beth! And I love this post. I'm always amazed how quickly nature can take over if left alone, especially in the rainforest. As you write, it can be good thing...

[Rana]

It's the ability of the non-human world to reclaim space that consistently heartens me. Sometimes I visualize pavement cracking, and weeds growing up through, young maples sprouting in the gutters of abandoned houses, mice making nests in drawers of clothing left behind... it sounds morbid, but it comforts me, thinking about how ephemeral our individual lives are, and how strong life itself is.

[anna]

Beth, commentators on the floods here in the UK have been highlighting the fact that so many people now concrete over their front gardens (often for car parking) and clear out the back gardens for patios/decking etc. : there's no place for the rain to soak away. Apart form the unsightliness factor - and i can't bear to see weeds sprouting from concrete - to me it looks sad.

A radio playing all day - definitely time to go.

Anna.

[Crafty Green Poet]

nature can certainly in the sort term outwit and outlive the idiot suburbanites.

[Diane]

Nature left alone produces the most wonderful displays. After a few years of tears my husband finally understood my distress and hired a fellow to cut our lawn who respected my desire to let nature take it's course along the woods and in certain garden areas.

Now we enjoy so many more butterflies and some really wonderful berries that we didn't even know we had.

[Nicolas]

How is global warming effecting the situation wehere you are. Here in Spain we are havignt to replan everything - plantings, fruit, our natural visotrs such as birds and insects.

@Rana - is the flooding just one symptom of this?

[Nicolas]

Sorry about the blank post there!