A Winter Makeover and Catching Rain

No, I’ve not had my hair trimmed – although I should – its’ very shaggy. No manicure either – although my nails could do with a pampering. Even wearing gardening gloves my hands have taken a beating – I’ve gone through two pair in two months – gloves, not hands. But this makeover is not about me.

While spending much of the last few years focused on training for long walks and writing four books, my garden – as much as I love the place – didn't get enough attention. If only there were forty-eight hours in every day, or if only I still had the energy and strength of a twenty-year-old. Alas, neither is the case.

This winter, however, has offered up more gardening time and most important – help. The space has enjoyed an extensive makeover.

The garden shed – that Mike built in 2004 as a sauna – has been tilting with the roots of a massive fir tree lifting one corner. The tilt is resolved, the foul rat-infested interior cleaned, a wall removed, a new roof installed. It is now an attractive and useful tool shed and the rats have moved on. To where, I’m not sure.

A hawthorn tree that was shading my vegie garden has been removed. That was a difficult operation – some of the thorns on that tree were two inches long. I was a little sad to see it go – Mum and I had planted it as a tiny seedling over twenty years ago. But the sun now shining into my veggie garden will encourage wonderful summer produce to grow.

I’ve already told you the tale of the demise of my rose garden. The new shrubs have yet to be planted and the current snow covering is ensuring that won’t happen for a while.

The meditation area will still be a quiet corner, but in the lazy days of summer, a hammock might encourage more reading and snoozing than formal meditating.

Pruned rhodos now encourage viewing through their twisted trunks, a much more pleasant aspect than the solid wall they had created with their dense green foliage. Although lovely in bloom, the rest of the year they tend to hog a lot of space without offering much in return.

The most important makeover is an improved rainwater catchment system. There is no denying the potential for continued and worsening drought conditions. My water comes from aquifer # 408 and I share that supply with 1511 other wells. Many of us understand the looming threat of reduced water levels and are doing what we can to ease the strain. This aquifer is officially rated as moderately vulnerable by the province. Some folks who share this finite and precious resource prefer to keep using water as if it was an endless supply. Water – or a lack of it – is a concern that should have us all taking note. Even those without an environmental conscience might realize that without potable water, their property is not a valuable commodity. When the water runs out, all of us will be in a world of misery. That when might be sooner than even the wasters and deniers would like.

The other day a person suggested to me that perhaps someday, someone would invent something so we can continue doing nothing. I’m still digesting the lunacy of that way of thinking but propose a different scenario. How about today, you and I take personal responsibility to do what each of us can to mitigate running out of potable water. But what can we do?

We can reduce our aquifer water use. Lawns do not need to be green in the summer. Grass is resilient. How about we embrace a pride in letting our grass go dormant and brown for a couple of months of the year. We let our dahlias die back and permit our roses to have a blooming break. Why not let the lawn have a rest too?

I have a friend whose lawn is mostly buttercup – it is so pretty, and her buttercups stay green without being watered. Other friends are naturalizing their lawn space, planting drought resistant native plants. The area is beautiful, full of pollinating insects and the plants don’t need mowing. I’ve reduced my lawn. It’s been down to zero for a few years now. The only grass I have left is an un-mowed, un-watered meadow where deer roam and nibble, bunnies hide, and wildflowers grow. I don’t even own a mower anymore. Liberating.

Many of us have a passion for gardening and growing shrubs, flowers, and vegetables that all need water to survive. How do we reconcile that love of gardening and growing with not using aquifer water?

How about we catch the rain and store it? We have huge amounts of rainwater throughout the winter months, and it’s easy to save some for our summer use. It’s true that most water storage tanks are ugly. But here’s the thing – we could change our perspectives of what is or is not attractive. I’ve had two wonderfully ugly 1200-litre storage tanks on the roadside of my house for over ten years. When I had them moved this winter, no one noticed. So how much of an eye sore were they? And is perceived ugliness a reason not to capture the rain? The two moved tanks now share a more convenient place with a third the same size. They reside in all their unattractive glory beside my berry and veggie garden. I have also consolidated numerous annual containers to be within easy reach so I don’t have to lug a watering can too far to keep pretty geraniums blooming.

A word of caution. Rain barrels/tanks set next to a house to catch roof water from existing down spouts need to be installed so that the overflow doesn’t soak house structure and cause rot. That overflow system is a vital component. If that is a worry, the catchment system doesn’t need to sit under house eaves. With a little ingenuity and the willingness to redefine what is or is not an eyesore, the tanks can be incorporated into the landscape of a garden and become interesting – even prized – features.

Here's a few pictures of my new water catchment systems. Along with the three big tanks, I’ve installed five 200-litre barrels, two livestock watering troughs, and a big container. I’ve pulled some large plastic garbage bins into water-catching service as well. All told, I now have capacity to store just shy of 5300 litres of rainwater. My goal is to not use aquifer water anywhere in my garden this year. I’ll report on my success – or lack of it – at the end of the coming gardening season.

Where have I put all the barrels; you may wonder? One is by my back door, another by the front. While the garbage cans are out of sight under the eaves of my potting shed, most of the rest are visible to any who enter my home or look out a window. They aren’t attractive – nowhere close to being aesthetically pleasing – but I’m determined to get used to their place in my garden, shall treasure their precious supplies of rainwater and will hydrate my plants without remorse or guilt or impacting our shared and vulnerable aquifer.

Happy times in your gardens … with or without the snow.