Hello gardeners!

When I returned to my garden after three years of living overseas, I wasn't sure what to expect. I braced myself for change — in fact I avoided even walking in the garden for several days. I was avoiding seeing the situation up close.

OVERWHELM

There was the overwhelm: the sheer volume of maintenance needed after years without a steady hand to guide the garden forward. Blackberry canes, wild roses, buttercups, horsetail, and weedy grasses certainly took advantage of me being away. Invasive plants, I realized, don’t wait for an invitation — they fill every space they can. It was shocking to see how quickly even a well-loved garden can slip into monocultures when nature's balance tilts. So far I have removed close to 100 juncus (rushes), numerous alder saplings and I am nowhere close to getting a handle on the horsetail or buttercup. Did I mention endless varieties of grasses growing into the beds, as well?

DELIGHT

But this spring I have also enjoyed the delight: those small, perfect moments when forgotten perennials pushed up through the soil. Plants I had loved and carefully placed years ago returning like old friends. I was so happy to see they survived.

EFFECTS OF CLIMATE CHANGE

Still, the effects of climate change were impossible to miss. Some plants were lost altogether — the strawberry patches decimated, either dug up or worse, possibly harmed by chemicals. Evergreen variegated Carex grasses that are scattered around the garden are literally half dead—one side is perfectly variegated and the other half is completely dead. My once-thriving rose bushes were skeletons of their former selves, with many large canes dead and brittle.

I hadn’t fully realized how small shifts like wetter autumns followed by cold snaps and drier springs, could create such visible scars. Now, I see it plainly: our gardens are on the front lines of a changing climate.

HOPE

Yet amid the wreckage, there was hope — and it lived in the soil. I have been actively keeping leaf mulch on garden beds for close to five years. Some areas of the garden have very heavy layers of leaf mulch and in these areas the soil is visually richer and has a higher degree of moisture. The plants in these pockets looked healthier, sturdier, more alive. In contrast, beds where only pine needles covered the ground or where no leaf mulch was present were far drier. The difference was undeniable: good soil practices make all the difference.

I always knew, intellectually, that regenerative gardening mattered. But now I’ve seen it with my own eyes. I’ve felt it under my hands as I pull back mulch and find a web of earthworms and the white threads of mycorrhizal fungi in the soil. I’ve watched it in the way perennials leap forward when the foundation is solid beneath them. Plus no trees on our property have failed or are showing signs of damage which I believe is a direct result of the years of leaf mulch restoring the soil and providing all the nutrients needed for the trees to flourish.

Coming home to my garden has reminded me of something simple and profound: