Late Summer Slog
Heatwaves and rainy weeks--August isn't my favorite month in the garden, but I'm trying not to let it bring me down
It’s always sad when you realize that the garden has reached its peak, but I guess it can’t stay lush and fresh-looking forever, no matter how much it might feel that way, say, in early June. At the beginning of summer the garden is so exciting and so full of potential, but by late summer it starts to look a little depressed. Or maybe that’s just me.
August has to be one of my least favorite months, and it’s not just because of the heat. Emotionally, it has a very January sort of feeling to it. A bit of a letdown coming on the heels of a time that’s so joyous and full of color. When I was a kid it was all of the back-to-school commercials on TV that made me feel sad. I hated school. Later on it was something darker. Living in Oregon, the wildfires would usually start up around August, and we’d get weeks of eerily red-tinted, ashy air that was hard to breathe in. If the record-breaking heat didn’t kill the plants in your garden, the smoke tried its very best.
A beloved dog of ours died in August 2020, and my dear grandma passed away last August. I just don’t like August! However I really don’t want to let it beat me down. I really don’t want to let it hurt the garden, either, but it’s taking its usual toll at the moment. It’s been hot—the plants begin to burn out, roses shrivel up in the sun the moment they bloom. But I know it could be worse. I’ve had to pull out a few plants due to heat damage, but weirdly enough I haven’t had a bug issue ever since the aphids left in early summer. And although the garden may not look as lush and as colorful as it did last month, it’s still filled with flowers. Now I’ve just got to keep it going.
Coddling
By this time last year I’d all but given up on my garden. It was my first year of container gardening, and I was struggling through a hot and humid South Carolina August, and the plants that never really looked all that good to begin with were suddenly looking even worse. So I took the few annuals that still looked ok and planted them in my parents’ garden, and threw out the rest.
This year, though, I’m determined not to give up. I’m doing a weekly fertilizer feed (been loving this one, though it does smell, so you might not want to use it on your indoor plants), and of course watering whenever the garden needs it, which is most days, except for the last week, which has been all rain-rain-rain. I’m also making sure to be consistently deadheading, since most plants stop producing flowers and start producing seed when you don’t take off the spent blooms.
I’m also trying to remove any diseased/weird-looking leaves. I’ve already dealt with some type of blight on a hardy geranium, and I don’t want to be losing other plants because I’m not being careful about inspecting them. Drew thinks it’s funny that I can’t sit outside without jumping up and going to give the plants a wellness check, but you really need to, especially when it comes to container gardening. These plants are needy things!
Pruning
Part of coddling is occasionally having to be ruthless when it comes to pruning. Culling, too. Sometimes you remove a few leaves when they become too yellow or spotty, but once in a while you have to go ahead and remove the whole plant. The silene I grew from seed started to get some suspicious white spotting on its leaves, and even though the plants are perennial, I ripped them out. If it’s powdery mildew, I don’t want it in the garden. And some plants just aren’t really thriving in the heat. Especially some of the hardy annuals—I ripped out a few nearly-dead scabosia plants already, and the chocolate lace flower is putting out only tiny flowers now and is getting a little too dusty for my tastes, so that will probably go next. I have other, healthier plants living with them in their pots, and I figure that they’ll be happier on their own with more room, especially at this time of year when it’s so humid.
I’ve been cutting back some of my smaller and frillier sorts of annuals, too. The viola, nemesia, and lobelia all began to get rangy, so I took my pruners and gave them all haircuts in the hopes that I’ll get more flowers soon. And I read that you can do the same thing with cosmos once they begin to sulk. Mine were getting brown and crispy leaves and smaller blooms, so I cut back the plants by a third. I can’t promise you yet that it will work, but I hope it will.
Planning
This is the most important one for me, both for the garden and my mental health! The 2024 summer garden might have reached its peak already, but I can still look forward to new blooms, for this year and for the next. The ‘Sweet Autumn’ clematis planted along the privacy fence is still weaving its way through the lattice, and even though it’s not autumn yet I check every day for buds. I also have linaria seedlings growing in a little pot. They’re tiny still, but there’s always a chance I’ll see flowers before the frost. One thing I really need to get better at is planning for year-round interest in the garden, instead of putting all my energy into plants that are at their best in June and July.
I’m even planning ahead for my indoor winter garden. I’ve ordered a few more scented geraniums, and I’ve taken cuttings of ‘Attar of Roses’ and ‘Grey Lady Plymouth’ so that I’ll have plenty of pelargoniums to bring in as houseplants when I can’t garden outside anymore. I just love them—the delicateness of the leaves and, of course, all of the different scents. They really do help get me though the winter. And right now when it’s too rainy to go outside it’s kind of nice to be tending to some cuttings on our windowsill.
And of course, there’s next year’s garden. I’ve been sowing some biennials that hopefully will overwinter in the raised beds or in the cute little greenhouse I just got from IKEA. The hollyhock seedlings are looking great, and I also have lunaria going, too. The hollyhock seed pack instructions tell me to plant in late winter/early spring, and I can try again then if the seedlings don’t survive, but it really feels very hopeful to sow seeds right now. So even if they don’t make it, it’s totally worth it to be growing them now.
I'm so curious about trimming back the cosmos! Mine have been a total fail this year (I planted a ton of a variety I thought I would like but I ended up hating) - but being able to get a second round would be great!