If you live in my zone, nature has beat you to the spring pruning. Shrubs weighed down by heavy snow loads have broken branches. Boxwood exposed to winter winds, extreme cold and snow loads show die back to varying degrees. Any ivy that has climbed into a tree or up the side of the building in a uniform shade of tan. Some of my roses are showing a little green. Others only show green at the base. Others have red shoots breaking from below ground.
Nature is the source of disaster pruning. Too cold weather. Too windy weather. Gale force winds knock over trees. Too cold and too harsh winters create die back in the crowns of trees. Too cold temperatures can wipe away years of growth, or the life of a marginal evergreen. Nature pruning is a rude and sweeping process with no discussion beforehand. As I have said before, nature bats last. Gardeners are left with the ruins.
The plants play a big part in this process. If a plant is threatened, it may signal branches to die back, to insure survival. I have roses, very old roses, whose tops are lifeless. But the activity at the base is thick-extraordinary. Some boxwood will have die back at the tips, but be vital at the interior. Some hollies will shed their leaves from an extreme winter, but will eventually leaf out normally. Some hydrangea hybrids that are marginally hardy will succumb to the worst winter I have ever experienced. That said, the will to survive is the most powerful force I have ever ever experienced.
The will to live enables me to work, even though I am older. I am determined to keep designing, and keep gardening. That will to keep gardening on is about that will to survive. To keep right on living, in a lively way. The will to live inherent in every plant I grow makes my mistakes in their placement or care no more damaging than a mistake. Plants can survive the most difficult siting, the worst drainage, less than perfect light, a terrible winter, an attack from Japanese beetles, a blow from a lightening strike-and still soldier on. My landscape endures without complaint my bad moves, or lack of understanding.
People do the same. They soldier on, in spite of personal issues that prune them to the quick. All of us living beings come with an extraordinary will to live, standard issue. We reinvent a landscape. We rebuild a garden. We re imagine a space. We make a new melody, or tune up. We take a winter pruning to the next level. We replace and replant. None of this is news to you.
Nature saw fit to prune my roses for me. How gracious of her! It will take some time for them to grow out of the winter damage, but I think it is better to prune back rather than replace. There is a big root system underground that is probably just fine. Every day I get a better picture of what will survive, and what will not. And though we have one 80 degree day forecast for this week, we could still have a bout of very cold weather. Pruning is a call to action, a signal to grow. New growth is especially susceptible to damage from cold temperatures.
My Carefree Beauty roses survived the winter without incident. But the incredible weight of snow better than four feet took them over-onto my boxwood hedge. Pruning back the dead branches to an outfacing bud will not solve this problem. How will I address the misfortune visited from one plant onto another? Ask me tomorrow. I do not have an answer today.
I have seen lots of climbing baltic ivy representing that deadly shade of brown. This picture is from my garden. Should I have to prune these vines back to the ground, I will. Lots of plants whose tops cannot handle a vicious winter are still alive at the root. Be sure the stems are dead, before you prune. If the stems scratch green, live with the unsightly mess long enough to see what will re-leaf, and what is lost.
Our spring is so cold, I am still wearing my winter gear. But it my intention to stay in the game, whatever it takes.Watching the maple trees leaf out, the daffodils blooming, the hellebores coming on, the delphiniums a foot tall, the magnolia stellata blooming, the grass greening, the grape hyacinths coming in to bloom-spring is here. Every spring has its particular aura. This spring is very much about that miracle which is the will to live.
I cut a bouquet of daffodils from our garden for Buck. He is not a gardener, but he did like this vase of flowers I put in the kitchen window for him. The cups are a miraculous shade of pale peachy pink. What has survived and is doing well in the garden helps to provide a little balance in a spring sometimes upside down.