It has something to do with the changing seasons. They determine the rate of growth on the one hand, and the demands on our time on the other. Typically, the season when we have most spare time is usually the season when we don't want to be outside for any length of time.
(It would be interesting to know whether gardeners in tropical regions without seasons experience the same cycle. Are they just constantly chipper, or do they burn out, too?)
The emotional cycle I've often succumbed to sounds a little like this:
March
Eager anticipation. The buds on trees and shrubs are starting to swell. By the end of the month they may have burst into leaf, and it should be mild enough for you to sow annuals.
April
Spring is in the air. Early flowerers are in bloom. Weeds haven't got out of bed yet, and you're excited: it's the season for germination and new growth.
May
Proficiency. It's a month of rapid growth, but your plants are still small enough to handle - and so are the weeds.
June
Pride. June is the month of first fruitfulness. The sun is high and the garden is in its prime. This is real summer.
July
June lulled you into a false sense of security and you've rested on your laurels. Your free time is now split ten ways, and you're going on holiday at the end of the month. But the garden continues to grow apace...
August
Burn out. You're overwhelmed by unruly, leggy plants and insurgent bouts of rusts and aphids that you missed in July. The garden is looking tired and parched of colour. You are determined to win the battle - but it's hard: isn't August supposed to be a month of hot, sunny weather? It's just been a bit iffy.
September
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness. The weed, pest and disease crackdown has mostly paid off: the majority of plants have been saved from a rusty/aphidy fate, and you can rejoice in the (often tasty) fruits of your labour.
October
The (surprise?) success of September's harvest takes you into October with enthusiasm and good intentions. Yes, pruning! Yes, autumn maintenance! You can do it!
November
Death months. There are more fallen leaves than you can shake a twig at, and the average rainfall feels like it rivals India in the Monsoon. You physically can't go outside because the wind is holding the door shut.
December
Ah, crisp and frosty morns, brisk walks in the country. But it's too cold to garden. Just don't look - what you can't see won't hurt you.
January
Disconnection and guilt. It's too late. If it can't survive -15°C and 8 inches of snow, maybe it was never good enough for you anyway.
February
It's a tempestuous month, but as supermarkets rebrand for spring and seed catalogues land on your mat, you feel anticipation and excitement - but it's still only warm enough for Parsnips...
... and so the cycle continues.
However, it's not all bad news. If you suffer the same peaks and troughs as me, here are a few things you can do to keep your garden on a high.
1. Don't bite off more than you can chew
Be realistic with yourself about what you can manage in terms of your time and space available. If you have limited time and space, go for slow-growing perennials which require minimal regular maintenance, or evergreens which won't shed (as many) leaves in the autumn. The same goes for annuals: plan where you're going to grow the plants on before you even sow them. This should tell you how many you need. If you can't bear to thin and discard seedlings, give them to friends to grow on. A problem shared is a problem halved, as they say!
2. Be a (horticultural) mind-reader
Anticipate problems before they occur. Doctors always tell you that prevention is better than cure, but prevention can feel like a hollow victory: it's about something not happening. You put nets over your brassicas and Cabbage Whites don't lay eggs on your prized specimen. You pull up a weed before it sets seed and a new generation of Cardamine hirsute doesn't grow. But a preventative approach in spring should mean you don't have to adopt a scorched earth policy come August.
3. Look at your plants
As self-help guides everywhere tell you, acknowledging that you have a problem is the first step towards solving it. Similarly in gardening, identifying a problem (it could be a pest, diesase, or disorder) is the first hurdle. But often a problem only comes to our attention when it's too late - when slugs have nibbled through the plant's vital arteries or blight has infested our whole crop. So it's worth taking the time to just look at your plants, check them for signs of something amiss, and nip P&Ds in the bud.
4. Keep growing
Our perception of gardening is totally skewed towards spring planting and sowing, and I suspect it's this seasonality that contributes to summer burnout and autumn/winter disconnection from the garden. However, many hardier crops such as New Zealand spinach or year-round varieties of cauliflower can be sown in late summer for overwintering. Autumn is the prime time for planting fruit trees (though the supermarkets would say differently) and bulbs - so spread your gardening enthusiasm throughout the year to keep things ticking over.
5. Ride the wave
Having said all of this, I'm going to give a potentially contradictory piece of advice: ride the wave. You can adapt your style of gardening to take the pressure away during those times when you're just too busy, but the main thing is to never let gardening become a chore. Only do things when you have time and enthusiasm, not when you feel you have to, and you'll enjoy it all the more.
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