Your root awakening
There’s no time to laze with weeds to dig out before nature wakes up
unfinished bit that’s not often seen. It’s 25 metres square, adjacent to the boundary where we’ve been building a wall for years and beside a garden pavilion that’s never been finished.
And over the years it’s become inaccessible. Briers, bindweeds, docks and nettles have made it their own. In winter, much of the clothing of these plants disappears so the bones of these invaders are clearly visible. I want to reclaim the ground and end the story of the garden beautifully.
Tackling these uninvited guests is a challenge. They all spread through their root systems so clearing the green growth on top won’t do the job. I don’t use weed killers and yet I want quick results so that in the spring I can plant the area… so there’s only one answer. Dig every root out. So on Boxing Day I hacked through the jungle with the shears. And then I began to dig. And from then until now it’s been two to four hours daily… shoving the fork in the ground, ripping up the nettle roots, shaking off the soil and filling the barrow. Some weeds are more satisfying to dig than others. The nettles are shallow rooted… once I get a tug at a clump I can rip a whole network of its cousins out in one go. Bindweed is however a devil. Its roots are fleshy, white and brittle. And it’s everywhere. Dig up a clump of soil, let it fall to the ground and dismantle and the flex of roots are revealed… running in every direction. And if I leave a single piece it’ll turn into a new plant and start the invasion again.
The briers are my favourite. I grab the arching barbed wands with my thick gloves, follow the arch to where it’s rooted and release its grip on the ground with the thrust of the fork. Very satisfying! I’ve filled seven wheelbarrows full of errant roots at this stage and I’m still not finished. If you’d like to see my daily progress I’ve posted a reel on my instagram @diarmuidgavin The roots won’t go on the compost heap, to avoid them infesting that. Instead I’ll let them dry out and burn the lot. And afterwards I’ll dig in the two tons of compost that’s waiting in bags on the front driveway.
I’ve entered the new year with all gardening guns blazing and it feels great! I’ll keep you posted on my progress.
Bindweed is a devil, its roots fleshy, white, brittle and everywhere
The week between Christmas and the new year has to be one of the longest – a series of endless days when the lights on the tree are still twinkling and there’s too many tubs of sweets and mince pies to be eaten and old favourites on the TV to be watched.
But this year I found it hard to sit still. I’ve been itching for the joys to come, eager to move things along and desperate not to be lulled into lazy mornings in bed and late nights in front of the box.
It’s always a week into the new year before anything happens, before emails arrive, the phone rings, before new gardens are commissioned or trips and adventures are schemed. But experience tells me that if I get lazy and am seduced into the seasonal lazy life, it becomes a habit. And it can be February or later before normal service resumes.
So this time I had a plan. I’d start my gardening year before 2024 had even started… on Boxing Day!
So, on December 26 I went to the shed and gathered secateurs, shears, spade, fork and shovel in the wheelbarrow and trundled down to the end of the garden.
Since December 21 each day has lengthened... just a bit. And for me that’s a reason to be outdoors – it’s joyful. Nature is beginning its long slow wake up. The weather where I am hasn’t been too bad and there’s always something to do.
At the garden’s end there’s an