Every spring, I’m conflicted over when it’s the best time to change the garden’s bedclothes.
Irrigated flowerbeds spend winter buried under a thick down comforter of leaves in my garden. Xeric areas and rock gardens get light and airy quilts of pine needles and evergreen boughs, respectively. One large agave wears a winter coat of burlap.
Despite warnings about smothering plants and rodents taking up lodgings beneath the mulch, in my experience plants so treated come through winter in much better shape than those left uncovered. Mulched ground stays frozen and plants remain soundly dormant throughout the manic weather fluctuations typical of late winter.
The quandary is that removing this protection too early inevitably exposes tender new growth to the harsh realities of a Colorado spring (when overnight lows can still fall well below zero). But because few things are as sad as crocuses blooming beneath a brown shroud, I’ve come to rely of these cheerful flowers as a wake-up call.
This year the first crocus bloomed on Feb. 20. I’ve been cleaning up the garden every nice day since.
It’s a gradual process that spans a couple of months. Starting in the hottest, sunniest part of the garden, I first cut off dead stems and other detritus from the hardiest perennials (like tall bearded iris, catmint, Jupiter’s beard and tall sedums), moving from the southwest-facing hillside at the back of my home to the northeastern edge along the front sidewalk. As I go, I also rake off the top layer of leaves, leaving a few inches to protect crowns and roots a little longer.
Next, I cut all of the clematis (without regard to pruning category) down to approximately 1 foot. (Spring bloomers get underway later in the season, true, but it beats having to untangle dead vines from live.)
Summer-blooming cut-back shrubs like rabbitbrush, blue mist spirea and butterfly bush get a similarly severe pruning. By this time, usually a month or so has passed, and it’s safe to shear ornamental grasses and tender perennials.
Only after all of the above is accomplished do I finally work up enough courage to rake off the remainder of the winter mulch.
After scattering organic fertilizer over the naked soil and watering if the soil is dry, I then spread a light layer of fresh compost, but only on irrigated beds. Gravel-mulched beds get fertilizer and fresh gravel, but are otherwise left to their fates.
The last step is keeping a very close watch on the weather forecast. With even a hint of an arctic cold front heading this way, I cover rock gardens with reserved evergreen boughs and other beds with a frost blanket or an old sheet. I can’t deny that every spring, I lose a few plants to late frosts. But it can’t be helped. You really can’t wait until the weather is frost-free in May to uncover the garden.
Not if you want to enjoy your crocuses.
Marcia Tatroe’s most recent book is “Cutting Edge Gardening in the Intermountain West” ($29.95, Johnson Books). E-mail her at mtatroe@q.com.
