I’ve never thought of myself as a gardening expert, although people often refer to me as such. An expert, to me, suggests someone who knows pretty much everything. and I’m constantly reminded of how much I don’t know about gardening, even after 46 years of digging in the dirt. But I will readily admit to being a gardening fanatic, and as such, here are just a few of the lessons I’ve learned.

I have no idea how many plants I've killed in the past 46 years of digging in the dirt, but it’s quite a few. In most cases I was to blame for planting something in the wrong spot, ignoring a plant’s hardiness rating, forgetting to water, or failing to fertilize. And of course there have been times when weather played a role and took its toll on plants. But sometimes plants die for no apparent reason.

So accept the fact that you too will kill plants. And move on.

Soil is an extraordinarily complex, living thing, teeming with bacteria, fungi, and critters of all kinds -- nematodes, mites, earthworms, and insects. Together, they create a unique  environment that supports plant health. That’s why it’s absolutely essential to feed your soil by routinely adding organic matter such as compost or bagged composted products. After all, it’s alive.

And honestly, until you come to terms with that fact you’ll never really get gardening.

Storebought composted products are great. They’re full of organic matter, rich in nutrients, relatively inexpensive, and convenient to use. But they’ll never take the place of homemade compost. When you combine leaves, plant refuse, kitchen scraps, and other organic matter in a pile, add water, and turn it now and then, in time you’ll witness the amazing process of decomposition, and wind up with the greatest soil amendment money can’t buy.

And your plants will be regal.

Mulch does so many things. It keeps weeds at bay, stabilizes soil moisture and temperature, protects soil from erosion, and it looks great. And organic mulches break down slowly to amend the soil. I prefer bark mulches in my ornamental beds and straw in my veggie garden -- it decomposes readily and provides a safe haven for beneficial creatures, especially spiders and beetles. So please, don’t skip on this stuff.

Thank you very mulch.

The quote above is my own. And while it may not pass for profundity, it captures the essence of what I think is the most important lesson I’ve learned in all my years of success and failure as a gardener. What I mean is that you should spend time in the garden now and then doing nothing more than observing. No pruners. No trowel. No watering wand. Just you (and perhaps a beverage) strolling through the garden and paying close attention to the wonders that surround you.

As you stroll, look at plants from the top down and from the bottom up. Examine the undersides of leaves, and be prepared to be startled by critters that like to hide there. Feel the textures of leaves and stems. Crush them and smell them. Do likewise with flowers. And yes, even weeds. Flip over rocks to see who and what’s hiding under them. Pull up a plant that’s seen better days and pay close attention to its root system.
Do those things and chances are you’ll never see your garden in the same way again, and you’ll begin to understand the interconnectedness of all the living things that call your garden home. But most importantly, you’ll begin to develop a genuine kinship with the world around you.
And that’s time well spent.

I’ve been outwitted by squirrels for decades. They destroy my newly seeded beds, they eat the developing buds of my pear trees, and, uncannily, they nibble away at my tomatoes the day before I intend to harvest them for a BLT. I’ve tried feeding them, to no avail. I’ve used various repellents, storebought and homemade, with limited success. I even hung a dead squirrel (road kill) on my fence thinking it might scare the others away. 

It didn't work. And it disgusted my wife.

That likely sounds counterintuitive, but let me explain. When you spray a broad-spectrum insecticide, chances are you’ll kill the target insect, but it’s likely you’ll also kill any nearby beneficial insects. And for reasons only nature can explain, the reproductive rates of beneficial insects are rarely as rapid as those of the pests that prey on plants. That results in an uptick of the pests, and a lag in the time it takes the beneficials to catch up. So if you do spray, try to focus on products that won’t harm beneficials, and spray only the plants being attacked by pests rather than the entire garden.

Less is not just better; it’s more effective.

I’m guilty of describing bugs two ways -- good bugs and bad bugs. Squash bugs, bad. Aphids, bad. Ladybeetles and lacewings, good. But that’s not really fair. For example, if it weren’t for aphids, ants -- which are beneficial in the garden -- wouldn’t have access to their delicious, nutrient-rich honeydew. There are dozens of other mutually beneficial insect-to-insect and insect-to-plant relationships. And let’s not forget that all bugs are a source of food for birds and other critters.   

But to be honest, I still think squash bugs are bad, fair or not.

Plants have vascular systems. They also “breathe” in a sense. And yes, they even have sex. But the best comparison between plants and people has to do with the strength of their immune systems. In both cases, when the immune system is compromised, susceptibility to disease increases, and in the case of plants the threat of attack by pests also increases. That’s why keeping plants healthy by planting them in the right spot, making sure the soil is rich in nutrients and drains well, and watering regularly is critical to their survival. 

Doing so will also greatly increase the nutrient value of the foods you grow. Just don’t think of them as people when you eat them. Yuk!

For me, gardening is more than fun and enjoyable and richly rewarding. It’s also therapeutic. And it connects me to my past -- my dirt-poor grandfather’s farm and my dad’s suburban plot of beans, cucumbers, okra, and tomatoes. But for some people, gardening is a dreaded chore. I get that. There are just people who’d rather spend their weekends doing anything but gardening.

I suppose that’s why golf was invented.

I wrote about potatoes two weeks ago, but I’m going to dig a little deeper into the subject next week, including a look at their origin and the fascinating story of how they found their way to our tables. And I’ll discuss the many varieties we have in stock and are ready for planting.