I love what I do. I love plants, I love gardens, I feel a great pride in my knowledge and abilities.
Why then do I feel so numb to it all at the moment?
This is regular thing for me every July; it’s as though I reach the point where I’ve peaked and I can’t muster the energy, emotional and physical, to keep pushing onwards.
A few months ago I was admiring Camellias, but it feels like an eternity has passed since then
It’s been a strange year.
It’s always a strange year in the garden. What is a ‘normal’ year? Do I expect a year where everything goes to plan? Do I expect to get through Magnolia season without a frost, to go through summer with the right amount of rain every night but easy weather to work in every day? That would truly be an exceptional, and very odd, year indeed!
I tell other gardeners that we must go along with what fate gives us. If we’re growing a diverse range of plants then we will usually get good years for some things but not others every single year. A nice mild spring might well be good for Magnolias but it then might well translate into a problematic season for roses, for example.
Between deer, gall midge and bad weather, good years for ‘daylilies’ can seem rare
I know this, and I’m sure you know this too. I think it’s the experience of most gardeners, but it’s one of those things it’s good to say out loud just to reinforce it in our own minds.
I think part of my garden fatigue is down to horticulture as a hobby and a job. There’s that famous quote, attributed to a number of different people, that says “find a job you love, and you will never have to work a day in your life”. I used to subscribe to this idea but I’m not so sure now.
Some plants seem to perform well all the time without wavering. I wish I could!
Can you love something but grow tired of it for a time?
Problems arise when your life revolves completely around that thing. When the inevitable annual fatigue comes along you’re trapped until you find your way back to how you should be.
I’ve come to realise that this isn’t actually a bad reflection on me. During past slumps I’ve contemplated other careers, but what would I do? I’m an outdoor person who likes plants, so logically I’m in the right career.
Pragmatism.
There are too many challenges and variables beyond our control for us to not be able to “take the rough with the smooth” as they say. A good season is great for our garden, and yet a good season for us is usually a good season for the weeds and other things that keep us busy. If we’re lucky then a bad year for the garden means we can afford to let things slide, although we usually spend our time trying to salvage order from the chaos. It’s all so tiring.
This Hydrangea looks incredible as it fades
Certainly writing for you wonderful GardenRant readers has helped me out a lot; having a writing slot here encourages me to think beyond whatever it is I’m doing for work, and that can only be helpful. Also your kindness in taking time to comment is very much appreciated.
I have a plans to shake out some of the work I’m doing, and I hope this will help me find a bit more hope and optimism. A few of the people I’ve been working for have become unreliable and I can’t afford, emotionally more than financially, to put up with that any more. It’s time to make changes to my work.
A trip out can be beneficial, even if the garden isn’t all that great…
I must also personally come to terms with this annual lull; it’s a challenging few weeks to push through but it is only a few weeks. Things will get better. At least there’s one type of therapy I can use that will work and is available 24/7: retail therapy. Excuse me while I go and browse second hand gardening books online…
You are not alone and have accurately described everything I feel at this moment here in the Piedmont region of the Mid-Atlantic. The weariness and frustration will pass, you will rest and find joy again in spring blooms. Thank you so much for sharing!
I’m relieved it’s not just me.
As a die-hard gardener I guess I’ve felt a little guilty about not being at my best all the time. Maybe it’s just something we all have to endure?
The plants do that here – bounce us into a lull. Roses stop flowering and the late perennials have yet to get into their stride. Maybe some of us need a little break in July?
Yes, maybe gardeners and gardens need to take more of a structured break at this time of year?
Make a note and time a holiday at this time in future? Good plan.
It’s the heat and humidity that suck the garden joy out of me this time of year. You’re comment on hobby and job struck home. I wanted to be a landscape architect. Now I’m glad I didn’t go into that field. Too much of a good thing.
I’m looking forward to a bumper crop of tomatoes this year!
I don’t do heat and humidity at the best of times (not really a thing here in the UK), so the idea of trying to garden in it scares me a little.
I think I could use another hobby, something non-garden to take my mind off things, but I’m rather obsessed with the plant world.
I’ve been this way for years. But really, this is the time to want to sit in the garden in the early evening with wine and listen to the birds and watch butterflies. This is what we do it FOR.
(Oddly, this year I’m not burnt out. Spring was so late here that somehow I’m still playing catch up. And I’m OK with it as I backed way off from gardening in total for a while and now I’m back to enjoying it and doing a re- imagining and re-work that I’m really happy about. )
My overarching plan is to deliberately set up the garden and garden work with the “pause” in mind. Weed in February to get ahead of it if possible…Have all the big work done, flowers blooming, the chairs ready, and a good book and nice bottle waiting… Does it always happen that way? Nooooo…. but that’s the grand idea anyway.
I don’t know why this appeared under your comment- was just supposed to be a general comment. Sorry! I’ve had lots of trouble with Garden Rant and comments- this is the first time one actually posted
I’ll check with the team to see if we’ve got any known issues. Thank you for flagging it.
I bought a table and chair set so I could finally sit in my garden, only for the British weather to turn back to its normal default (although I must say I am delighted to have rain again).
I think that’s a great idea. I’m hoping my garden will generally get on with its efforts during summer without needing my attention; the problem is that I get this urge to fiddle with the planting, and every plant lifted is a plant I must care for again until it’s established.
Hang in there, Ben! This too will pass. It does, without fail, every year. Although, I must say that climate instability is making me wonder about that reliability!
I wonder if climate instability will just make the summer slump worse, or whether it will move the slump earlier or later in the year.
Thanks for your Rant Ben! I too, have felt this “slump.” The initial frenzied adrenaline of the spring has worn off, it is hot (and smoky still here in Chicago), and the garden work is tedious. However, IT COULD BE WORSE! This year, at the very end of June, I got tangled in boat lines while docking our sailboat. My left leg was broken and the soft tissues (muscles, tendons, nerves, skin, etc.) were damaged. The nerves growing back are extremely painful! The doctors ordered my leg be elevated above my heart 23 hours per day. So now I lay on my back madly texting clients and my garden team about scheduling, explaining why I can’t be there, what may/may not be a weed, how to improve the containers in which the small annuals we installed this spring are now bursting at the seams and are crowding out other annuals, thus ruining the design, and much much more. All the while hoping my pain meds last long enough for me to concentrate on all of this. All I can say is, enjoy the fact you can go out and putter in the earth and enjoy a bumblebee bouncing along. Your slump will pass and brighter days lie ahead. Give yourself a break and do something that does not involve any gardening for a whole day. And then get back in there with joy.
Crikey, that’s a bit more dramatic than my annual summer slump!
I can only send my very best wishes for a speedy recovery.
Oh, I feel your pain – or burn out. I’m a professional and home gardener too and I don’t want to even look outside right now. Thank you for this rant. It helps to be reminded that I’m in this mood every year. And it will pass!
It will pass; we must have faith in ourselves.
It’s good to know that pretty much all of us gardeners go through the same July/August slump. Stoicism helps–what you cannot change you must accept. So I have learned to live with the fact that so long as i cannot put a deer-proof 8′ fence all around my 2 acres of central Virginia suburbia–and I cannot because it includes a right-of-way and my own driveway–I will not be able to have daylilies or hostas and must grow lilies in pots that can be moved into protection. And I have learned to focus on the early spring as my peak gardening pleasure–hellebores, daffodils and other deerproof bulbs and a host of woodland ephemerals.
And they say we should all garden with wildlife in mind… but deer can be a particularly pervasive nuisance.
It’s good that you’re adapting rather than just getting angry at them.
You have echoed my feelings exactly. .
Glad it’s not just me.
Exactly how I’m feeling at the moment – bunt out, hot and sweaty. Trying to finish a project so I can move on to another area and get hot and sweaty …………………
It’s no wonder non-gardeners look at us as though we’re mad!
We love what we do, but sometimes I think we could benefit from doing less of it.
And it’s the same here in NH with the added challenge of recent flooding that has thankfully receded, but left quite a mess behind. The heat, humidity, and bumper crop of mosquitoes (almost makes me long for last year’s drought…… almost….) has me throwing in the trowel and retreating to the books as well. Gardening books, particularly some of the older ones, are what get me through the cabin fever months of February and March. As I get older, they now get more use in July and August. This too will pass pretty soon, and be followed by a glory of asters, goldenrod, turtlehead, and ironweed blossoms. Hang in there everyone!!
I love older books and have many (too many?).
When it’s not nice to be outside I can lose myself in a book.
North Atlanta, Georgia… wonderful spring and summer! …best rainfall ever.. Hot temps but manageable if you finish work by 10am…. So why my slump?
( more like a brick wall…to slump against)
Knowing I will never rid my gardens of centipede grass, Japanese packing grass or…or…or… but most importantly, A serious case of poison ivy… On my face…Where is a good flame-thrower when you need one?…..
Persistent problems are terrible. I look after a garden with three-cornered leek (Allium triquetrum) rampaging around; I hate that garden when the wretched stuff comes up everywhere.
Flame throwers are the answer to so many problems!
Upstate New York… and there is so much to do and so many challenges; invasive spring bulbs-blue scilla, that are everywhere, invasive worms are getting worse, weeds romping through the beds, projects that need to be done. It all gets overwhelming. My therapy is visiting all the little nurseries as the sales are starting. The problem is I come home with a car full of plants that need to go in the ground and so the cycle begins again.
Ah yes, I know that cycle all too well.
That’s why I buy books; at least they don’t need planting!
Professional independent gardener in Raleigh NC and this hits home. It’s too hot and too humid and just this morning I mockingly said to no one in particular, “If you have a job you love, you’ll never work a day in your life.” I do love my gardening job, but today felt like work! July is the hardest month in the garden(s). But oh, wait until mid-September… now that’s good stuff! Thank you for reminding me I’m not alone. Onward!
My heart goes out to you as we’re in the same boat here; if we don’t push through the uncomfortable weather we don’t get paid.
I get comments through the summer from people who tell me I’m so lucky to work outside, yet these people are strangely absent during the winter.
I like autumn/fall. Even though the prospect of a dark and grey British winter is on the horizon it’s a time of great bounty, with dew-covered cobwebs on asters, fruits on trees and the leaves starting to change colour.
I recently found myself almost welcoming a necessary break for covid isolation — an excuse NOT to garden. Essential watering and a little harvesting only. After six days away, I feel more ready to get back at it. Give yourselves a break — let nature take over a little. Maybe there will be some good surprises –even in July!
Very little is urgent in the summer garden, apart from life-giving watering and a bit of harvesting and dead-heading.
There’s something of an impression that we must be martyrs to our gardens; I disagree!
Hot – dry- hot -dry – hot. Too hot for this senior citizen in Minnesota, so the weeds flourish. It will eventually be cooler, and wetter, so I’ll wrestle with big weeds then. At least the lawn goes dormant, so I don’t have to mow.. I’ve come to appreciate brown lawn!
Wow, so much complaining in these comments. Here on the semi-arid plains of Colorado, we are on our knees, thanking who & whatever, for a long cold WET Winter and Spring. Post-pandemic, Post-drought.
These comments are hard for me to read. This is a real “First World problem,” people. (As my more woke friends like to say.)
***Be grateful you’re waking up alive, able and healthy every morning!***
Good grief, whine, whine, whine.
A little harsh maybe?
We’re all people, gardeners, facing challenges of making beautiful gardens even when nature doesn’t want us to. The comments, including my main piece, aren’t suggesting that there aren’t bigger problems at stake, such as drought and heat etc. As you will be so accutely aware from your own experience, gardening can be an uphill struggle.
The point of my article, and the experiences people are sharing in the comments, are that while we love our gardens and feel great pride in what we do there comes a time in the year where we become a little tired by it all. As weather changes, the seasons progress and we hopefully all recharge our batteries, all will be well again.
We can only do what we can do.
Very little in the garden turns into a disaster if we don’t venture out to deal with it straight away, and we have the benefit of the cooler seasons to come. My own garden is primarily orientated towards the spring and autumn/fall, and given the fatigue I’m feeling at the moment I don’t think I’m inclined to bridge the gap. Maybe it would be good for my garden and me to have a summer break?
Dear lord, it is so encouraging to know I am not alone in feeling burned out by July. I am grateful I am not in the south, but even in New England (I’m here in CT), we get beastly heat and humidity every summer. If I do any gardening, it’s usually at 7 pm or so and it’s for a half hour or so at most. A little edging/mulching, which I NEVER finish in the spring although I say I will every single year. Tying up a few tall things, deadheading. I remember reading in a garden book somewhere that at a conference, California gardeners were feeling very sorry for New Englanders, whose garden activity comes to a stop in the cold winter months. “What must that be like?” They responded, “Heavenly!” I concur.
Haha, yes a break in the gardening year is certainly something I appreciate here in the UK, although I’m still working in gardens during the winter. The slowing down of the garden is a chance to actually get ahead rather than running to keep up.
well, this has all been very entertaining to say the least. As a 75 year old “retired horticulturist” (not that we ever really retire) I feel your pain Ben. But, to be brutally honest, you are fu@#ed. You will continue to go through this same cycle year after year because, like me, you are a one dimensional, compulsive workaholic that busts his butt off all spring for that “perfect” garden only to have it fall apart piece by piece as the summer rolls on. As much as we strive for that perfection, it is a fleeting condition that only lasts for a short time (and often only in specific areas of the garden and of course never all at once as we would like). I like to think of your (and my) condition as more of a “postpartum” depression that happens shortly after we have “delivered” our spring show. After all, isn’t that what we are doing, creating a performance for the masses to enjoy. Once the show has finished there is this let down that happens every year. In years past my staff has insisted that I leave because it is so unpleasant to be around me. It is the curse we all must endure, being the creative, compulsive, perfectionists that we are wired to be. Take a break (I know, it is hard to do) and recharge and then get back in the ring. We are who we are and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Soldier on my fellow gardener.
The thing with gardening, at amateur and professional level, is that it doesn’t just move at one pace; there are slower times when the gardener can catch up, there are faster times when the gardener is left behind. You’ve got to understand this if you’re involved with gardens or you’ll run yourself into the ground and probably go mad too!
There is an element of showmanship for sure. We chip away at the garden in the winter months and then push hard during spring, then there’s this lull in the garden during summer. Most of the work now is routine, but soon the season will change again. It’s been helpful for me to know that others involved with gardens get these peaks and troughs, and the numb fatigue each summer as we recover from one season and ready ourselves for the next.
This year I relieved my summer slump by BUYING MORE PLANTS! Yes, against all good sense I replaced the annuals-in-pots I was not liking with others I might like better. NOT resigned to wait til next spring!
Smart lady we’re not getting any younger are we
We have to do what we do. I have added to my library (needs less watering!).
I am in the July slump as well. Trying to focus on the positive Hs (hammock and hummingbirds) rather than the negative (heat and humidity). If that doesn’t work I may just drive the 4+ hours to Buffalo garden walk this weekend and see if inspiration gets me excited about my own projects again!
I’ve purchased a run of a rather awesome plant magazine and will be collecting it on Sunday, possibly with an arboretum on the way home. Like you I’m hoping to gain a bit of inpiration, maybe not to embark on a new project but actually inspiration to keep going!