Something I’ve noticed in gardens that have been tended by the same person – or people – is that the best ones never stay the same. People who truly love their plots shuffle things around all the time, with the same confidence and curiosity as those restless interior design lovers who change their curtains twice a year with the clocks.
The longest I’ve ever had a plot is five years, but even in that time I feel as though I made several different gardens. The suck-it-and-see approach of lifting something that isn’t terribly happy has been a stalwart of mine since I started container gardening on a tiny balcony.
Yes, there’s a risk that moving a plant may overwhelm or challenge it, but it’s also a free and relatively easy way of playing with new shapes, forms and ideas in your plot, no…
Something I’ve noticed in gardens that have been tended by the same person – or people – is that the best ones never stay the same. People who truly love their plots shuffle things around all the time, with the same confidence and curiosity as those restless interior design lovers who change their curtains twice a year with the clocks.
The longest I’ve ever had a plot is five years, but even in that time I feel as though I made several different gardens. The suck-it-and-see approach of lifting something that isn’t terribly happy has been a stalwart of mine since I started container gardening on a tiny balcony.
Yes, there’s a risk that moving a plant may overwhelm or challenge it, but it’s also a free and relatively easy way of playing with new shapes, forms and ideas in your plot, no matter the size. And I’d argue that right now, this slow, quiet time between Christmas and January, between one year and the next, as the days gradually start to stretch out again, is a symbolically lovely time to do it.
If you live in an area that has been damp to the point of boggy, or frozen solid, then save it for a quiet weekend in January instead. But if things are simply cool, damp and docile out there, you’ve got the perfect conditions for shuffling some plants around, because many perennials will be dormant. I recommend you start with the things that are bothering you a bit – whether it’s because you wish they were growing better than they are, they’re frustrated in a too-small pot or looking deathly – because the chances are that a new spot will only improve things.
One of my favourite things about gardening is the almost free-flowing nature of how plans unfurl once I’m out there. But if you’d rather be more formal about it, draw up a sketch of your beds, whether existing or planned, to help get things in their new place. Prepare the landing site before you lift anything: dig a hole that’s generously deep and larger than the anticipated rootball (look to the crown of the plant for a good guide), and add some mulch or well-rotted compost. Then lift, plonk, bed down firmly and give a good water to celebrate the plant’s new home.
Depending on the plant, you won’t see the fruits of your labour for a few weeks yet, but there’s a satisfaction in this, too. While you wait, you can enjoy your new planting arrangement through its skeletal structure; and if it’s not working for you, have another shuffle before spring comes. A fresh take on the garden for the new year.