Rosa Steppanova

4 November 2008

JUST NOW and again we’re treated to a few days of Indian summer in Shetland, but this year we moved straight from summer into winter. Following an exceptionally warm and calm season, the snow in early October came as a shock to the system, and the gales, hail showers, and driving rain we’ve had since, drove all but the most determined and resilient gardeners indoors.

That’s where those days between weathers come as a blessing for the rest of us, allowing us to get on with a few necessary autumn chores. Thanks to our almost frost-free winters we’re quite lucky really. Root crops such as carrots, parsnips and beetroot don’t have to be lifted, topped, and stored in boxes of damp sand. They’re safe left in the field or garden, provided the ground doesn’t become completely waterlogged, which will lead to splitting and subsequent rotting.

Unless your garden is completely sheltered, the autumnal gales can play havoc with annual or biennial herbs. Tied in neat bunches, and hung above the Rayburn, they’re decorative, but soon turn dusty and useless. To preserve their colour, flavour, and perhaps most importantly, their vitamins, it’s much better to chop and freeze them.

It’s been a marvellous year for potatoes, with above average yields and very little blight. Even the highly susceptible salad variety ‘Pink Fir Apple’ escaped almost unscathed. Still, it’s always a good precaution to burn the shores. In a dry autumn -they have been known to happen - allow them to dry in a heap for a few days, mixed with other combustible garden waste, before setting fire to them. Bury a few tatties in the embers and prepare yourself for a rare treat: A steaming and mealy interior encased in a thick black crust – very good for the digestion, and perfect fortification before you fork over your patch, in readiness for next spring.

Shetland tatties used to be stored out of doors in specially dug pits, earthed up, then topped with a roof of overlapping turf to protect them from light, rain, and frost. A cool outhouse will do just as well, and a generous covering of soil will keep your tubers fresh and plump well into spring.

Autumn brings many delights to the ornamental garden, and the turning leaves of shrubs and trees play an important part in this. Not all oblige. Alders and sycamores are always a disappointment, but the Icelandic birches and Asiatic rowans manage to put on good displays most years. Deciduous cotoneasters also turn colour well, and provide plentiful supplies of berries, much sought-after food for resident as well as migrant birds. Berberis wilsonii is as tough as old boots, changes from green to vivid crimson in September, and manages to hang on to its leaves well into November.

On a smaller scale, deciduous azaleas (rhododendrons) put on a splendid show regardless of the weather. They are tougher and more wind-resistant than their evergreen cousins, and perform well with a modicum of shelter in acid or peaty soil.

Autumn leaves, once shed, are a nuisance on path and steps, and when they cover evergreen ground cover plants, but don’t be too hasty when it comes to sweeping them up elsewhere. In borders, and especially on cut grass, they form beautiful seasonal patterns, to be enjoyed until the snow of winter covers them.

Much to their loss, some gardeners turn their backs on their herbaceous plantings once September is past, missing out on the numerous delights these months have in store: Michaelmas daisies, ice plants, Chinese gentians, monkshoods, late monbretias, and even later red hot pokers, shining like torches in the gloom of autumn. No garden should be without a few colchicums or “naked ladies”. They rise from the earth devoid of leaves, and their delicate pastel goblets, held on long tubes, benefit from a supporting cast (think soft corset) of herbaceous companions, such as dwarf asters or low growing sedums. They are also terrific in not too short grass.

Late autumn is a time for contemplation and planning ahead. Once the leaves are swept up, the tattie and salad patch have been forked over, all dead growth has been taken to the compost heap, and the hatches are battened down, the gardener is left with a clear view for changes or improvements, but that is a subject for the next instalment of ‘Four Seasons’.