December 2023
I love to potter in the garden, especially on summer evenings when it’s light until nearly 11 o’clock. Gardening in late autumn is another story. ‘Pottering’ has given way to hasty forays between torrential showers. Everything has to be done quickly, partly because it’s cold, partly because it’s about to rain again, and partly because the daylight ends so abruptly, just after 6.
That means that the big tasks proper to this time of year have to be accomplished in the least favourable conditions. I’m fortunate to have someone to call when they need doing: a splendid gardener whose schedule permits him to dedicate a few days each year to La Laguna. If my strong point is endurance (as in weeding, bent over, hour after hour), his is a breadth of horticultural knowledge, along with the strength to hold a motor-saw steady long enough to prune 180 large hydrangeas, 40 roses, a dozen shrubs, the lavender bed and the birch walk’s unruly growth, in a single November day. In April, he performs another Herculean feat by giving the 23 metre-wide labyrinth its annual trim, then transforming the abundant clippings into mulch.
Last week, on one of the few sunny days we’ve had since mid-October, between us we prepared the garden for winter – or, as the English say, ‘put it to bed’. All the end-of-season vegetables were finally harvested, and anti-weed mats spread over the plot where they had been. The long watering hoses now lie coiled in protective plastic under the terrace’s stone table. Pots of geraniums have been moved to shelter, bulbs planted, marigold and calendula seed collected, herbs hung to dry indoors. I also planted a ‘Camino de Santiago’ rose, bred by pilgrim and rose expert Norman Sinclair, and delivered here a few weeks ago by Norman himself: one of the many examples that he has presented to municipalities, religious communities and individuals along the Camino Francés. I’m delighted and proud that Norman considered this Quiet Garden a worthy recipient. Next year, I’ll hope to post a photo of it. Meanwhile, here is one showing the last roses of the year, in a jug made by my friend Elizabeth Block, of Toronto, many years ago.