The Case of the Missing Carrotops
The delicate balance between woodland creatures and harvest.
There are days when I feel exactly like the proverbial mouse hiding under the toadstool in the rain. The world is pouring down, and my garden is my shelter.
So I can’t really blame the mice for finding their way under the not-quite-sealed hoop covers at night, nibbling the best carrot tops and the most tender kale. It’s warmer in there, and the menu’s excellent.
I’m willing to share… to a point. But I can already tell this is about to scale wildly out of control.
The mice always win if they want to badly enough, but there was this early summer when I managed to make the garden annoying enough for them to give up, thanks to the miracle of ProtekNet. Pricey, yes, but worth every penny. Now each bed is double-wrapped: ProtekNet below, weather cover above. Thankfully nothing needs pollinated.
Marian: 2. Mice: countless.
Meanwhile, don’t be fooled by autumn’s cooling! While we think of it as the season of endings, it’s really the best time to begin. The soil still holds a lot of summer’s warmth and plants can root deeply without the stress of heat or drought. Anything planted now has months to settle in quietly, building strength beneath the surface. So whether it’s small trees and bigger shrubs, or plants seeded over the summer, everything will be ready to really pop in the spring.
Fall planting isn’t about instant reward;
it’s about trust in the slow work that makes everything stronger later.
This round of work meant tackling the creek. This is something I usually avoid so insects and birds can keep their winter refuge. But the Jewelweed and Sochan had staged a full takeover. It was time to reset the canvas.
Now, with new Sweetspire and Beautyberry tucked in, twenty feet of erosion-controlling sneezeweed I grew from seed, and generous gifts of purple ironweed and iris from friends, the banks are set to burst into color next spring. All that’s left is to set firmer boundaries for those wild, gorgeous overachievers of Jewelweed and Sochan.
I encourage you to consider planting one perennial now; even a small one!
It’s an easy act with a big payoff. The soil’s still warm enough for roots to grow, so even a single plant tucked in now (a shrub, native flower, or clump of herbs) will wake stronger in spring. It’s a reminder that growth doesn’t always need urgency, but it loves a head start.
Other fall activities that will help:
Add a layer of leaf mulch. Let the leaves stay or pile them around your beds. They’ll feed the soil and shelter all the small lives that make spring possible.
Sow one patch of native wildflower seed. Even a corner of pollinator-friendly plants can anchor a thriving spring habitat.
Tuck in bulbs or garlic. Small gestures that feel like secrets you forget about them, and then they surprise you months later. In fact, I just planted my bed of garlic for June deliciousness!
Mark where things struggled this year. A quick note in a garden journal now saves confusion and replanting later.
To my dear locals! On November 15 at dusk, I’m hosting a neighborhood level bonfire and toasted marshmallows. So if you haven’t heard the details yet, contact me and I’ll fill you in! My fairie lights will be twinkling and the spiked as well as non-spiked hot chocolate will be flowing. Marshmallows and extenders will be provided too.
I love reading your little stories and adventures.