Fearless gardening 101
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The everyday miracle of germination. — Danny Novo/Creative Commons
I hate to hear people describe themselves as having a "black thumb," as if they had some sort of reverse Midas touch.
Growing healthy, happy plants is really a matter of paying attention to their needs and sleuthing out what might be troubling them when they don't do well. As for gardening mistakes — well, everyone makes them. Don't let it spoil the fun you can have digging in the dirt.
Gardening is not a test; it's not rocket science, either. Since making a garden is one of those pastimes where you truly have only yourself to please, try to liberate yourself from the fear of error.
In fact, there are so many mistakes to make there's no sense making the same ones twice. The worse you feel about any given gaff the more likely you are to avoid doing the same thing again — people who like smarmy buzz words (I'm not one) call this a "learning experience."
It isn't just novice gardeners who muff it, either. I had to look at one of my worst mistakes practically every day since it stared me smack in the face every time I left my house by way of the back door.
Standing just inside my gate was a Douglas fir I planted to shield the back yard from a view of the road. I should have known better than to plant this happy little evergreen tree in a spot it would soon outgrow. It went in the ground next to my pair of giant Norway spruce when it was barely 6 feet tall, and before long it was pushing 20 with nowhere to grow.
I'm really had to remove it, a fact that caused me pain for a year or more. I tried — unsuccessfully — to donate it to some charity as a Christmas tree so it would at least have one final, shining moment before it went to the great Mulch Pile in the Sky.
I wrung my hands, but eventually called in the tree guy and covered my eyes while he took a chain saw to it. I'm sorry, I'm sorry — it seemed like a good idea at the time.
Sometimes mistakes are downright mystifying. I'd planted some Asiatic lilies in pots a couple of summers ago, thinking I could plunk them somewhere prominent when they were in bloom and then hide them while their foliage browned. They came up lush and healthy, but before they were anywhere near blooming the leaves became disfigured with a mottled rash of yellow.
I thought maybe the problem was the presence nearby of tiger lilies, which can carry a virus that spreads to other lily species without showing any symptoms themselves — think of them as the Typhoid Mary of the lily set. At a loss, I turned to my local Rutgers Agricultural Extension Station but once the agents ruled out my virus theory, they were stumped, too.
Great things from little seeds grow. — Harry Wagner/Creative Commons
I agreed to let them send one pot to the labs in New Brunswick where technicians would be able to find an answer, albeit at the cost of sacrificing one bulb's life. The answer that came back was a new one even on the ag station staff.
Seems the black plastic pots I used heated up significantly in the sun and kind of fried the lily roots. Apparently the problem was exacerbated by the Perlite I'd used to lighten the potting soil mix, but to tell you the truth I've forgotten the details.
I can tell you that there was prolonged and lively, often comic, discussion about all this and the ag staff thereafter identified me as "Lily Lady." I lost a lily but gained a new bunch of sympathetic gardening friends. And I plant my lilies directly in the ground now.
You're entitled to make your own mistakes, but here are a few of the most common to watch out for:
Failing to account for the mature size of plants. They look so small when you first put them in, but trust that they will, sooner or later, grow bigger than you imagine. Check horticultural guides for the ultimate height of your plants and plan accordingly.
Failing to consistently water new plants. Trees and shrubs, particularly, need regular deep watering in their first year. It's by far the most important thing you can do to assure their survival.
Failing to understand a plant's basic sun and soil needs. If you put shade-loving plants in direct sun, they'll wilt; if you put sun-craving plants in the shade, they won't bloom. Acid plants don't do well in limed soil; lime-lovers won't perform to peak in acid soil. This kind of info is readily available from books or from nurseries where you buy plant material.
Fear of experiment. If a plant is doing poorly where you stuck it and you can offer a better alternate site, don't be afraid to dig it up and transplant it — at the appropriate time of year, of course. Maybe tree roots are robbing your plant of nutrients or there's hardpan clay below the surface that you didn't know about.
Reluctance to discard unhappy plants. Sometime you just can't make a particular species happy or, having grown it, you just don't like its looks. There are so many different kinds of plants — gazillions to choose from — you don't have to put up with those you can't satisfy. Off with their heads, I say. Go with something else.
In gardening as in so many other things, optimism is a good trait to cultivate and the will to "try, try again" often bears fruit. Don't dwell on your mistakes; think of them as milepost markers on your way to better gardening.