Amateur (N. or Adj.), from the French amator, or lover

Synonyms:  dilettante, layman, dabbler, putterer

1. Taking part in an activity for pleasure, not as a job. A hobbyist or volunteer.
2. Devotee, admirer.
3. Someone who doesn’t have much skill in what they do.  Incompetent.

Little has made me feel more like of an amateur gardener than finding favorite ferns grazed back to their crown by deer.  For years now, I have recommended planting ferns to fellow gardeners who also contend with deer tromping through their yards, grazing valuable plants all the way.  “Deer won’t eat ferns.  They don’t like the texture,” I would assure them, with some earnest air of authority.

I could open a half-dozen gardening books and point to that nugget of wisdom.  I’ve added ‘ferns’ to all my lists of ‘deer resistant’ plants over the years.  And yet an hour exploring our garden this morning, hose in hand, before the heat of the day descends again, proved that when it comes to gardening, I remain a rank amateur.

And that is fine.  Better to be an amateur and admit that although you love some pursuit passionately, you know almost nothing in the larger scheme of things.  That leaves one open to learning from the daily challenges, without getting too puffed up with all the things you think you know. 

An ‘amateur’ is a lover, in the purest linguistic sense.  The negative connotation of a ‘dilettante,’ or worse an ‘incompetent,’ came later.  This morning’s garden tour left me feeling more of an incompetent, however, as I noticed how many plants continue to struggle in this odd weather year.

I became an ‘amateur gardener’ around the age of five, when I first experimentally planted some of my dad’s grass seed into a glass peanut butter jar half filled with soil.  I don’t recall whether I scooped up some soil from the yard or found a bag of potting soil in the utility room.  But I remember planting and watering the seeds, setting them near a window, and watching them grow into blades of grass.   That had me hooked. 

I’ve gardened in many different places over the years with varying levels of success and ‘teachable moments’ of failure.  This yard, near Jamestown, and overrun with wildlife, has presented the steepest learning curve to manage.   Classes, certifications, books read, gardens visited, videos watched, and earnest instruction from colleagues and mentors have all ultimately left me, still a beginner. 

And that is partly because every month and every year present novel challenges here.  ‘Solutions’ prove temporary, at best. There are more mysteries, still, than final answers.  Despite the disappointments and challenges, I still love watching things grow.  I love experimenting with bits of plants to see what they will do.  I still enjoy cultivating the unconventional.  Our garden is an ongoing ‘experiment,’ and will never be quite ‘finished.’ 

Despite the damaged ferns, grazed perhaps by deer, or by turtles and rabbits, my experiment with planting Christmas and other evergreen ferns to sequester carbon is going very well.  The grazed ferns today were both Athyriums, one a hybrid, ‘Ghost,’ and the other an Asian A. otophorum.  A rabbit or turtle most likely uprooted and consumed the three missing Christmas ferns planted as sporeling plugs this spring.  The mossy path between the main areas of ferns in the upper, wooded garden continues to slowly fill in to form a lush carpet, despite the heat and dry spells this summer.

Interestingly, the evergreen Japanese holly ferns, Cyrtomium falcatum and C. fortune, that I’ve recommended to others in recent years, had a huge setback this past winter and still are very slow to produce much new growth.  They have been established in containers for more than three years now.  Caladiums are filling one of these containers, finally, but the ferns are barely making an effort to send out new fronds, even with regular water and feeding.

But many plants in our garden remain slow to grow overall, this year.  I’ve been wondering whether the Canadian wildfire smoke has affected growth rates, too.  I planted lots of Pentas, Salvias, Gauras, herbs, and other flowering plants this spring and have been keeping them watered and tended, since.  Few have flowers blooming this week. 

One of the Pentas was covered in flowers on Thursday morning, but I had trouble finding it, today.  I searched as I watered where it should be.  You guessed it… it had been eaten down to the crown.  Another supposedly ‘deer resistant’ plant, off the list.  Several others, planted elsewhere, continue to grow, but aren’t as large or covered in flowers as I expect at the end of July.  Even so, we have enjoyed watching hummingbirds dart around the garden, visiting the Verbena, Hibsicus and Cannas, now in bloom.

We had Hibiscus coccineus bloom this week, another native Hibiscus that volunteered in our yard some years ago.  I was happy to find olive trees for sale at our local grocery, and have one potted up and happily growing alongside several others on our front patio.  One of the older trees is fruiting this year.  The Salvia stems I botched with the string trimmer rooted, and they are potted up now and growing on the deck.  And the Begonias are all doing well, covering themselves with beautiful leaves and flowers.

Many of our sporeling ferns, grown from collected spores in previous years, have grown large enough to pot up and begin their independent lives.  I was happy to dig them out of their propagation boxes and plant them on the deck this week.  I have also begun collecting fresh spores to sow in the coming weeks.

It has been so hot and humid here for the last several days, with excessive heat warnings, that we have mostly stayed indoors.  Any watering happens between dawn and around 9 AM.  My gardening ‘to-do’ list grows as I look forward to cooler days and nights ahead.  Late summer and fall are our ‘second spring’ each year, and I’m looking forward to renewed growth and enthusiasm from all of our green-skinned companions.  As some wise person once said, and others have repeated, “When obstacles block your path, notice that the way forward is through the obstacles. The obstacles often show you the way.”

How does anyone learn anything, without lots of experience with failures?  I’ll continue to count our successes as happy accidents, and the failures as teachable moments.  What else could you expect from a beginner, a rank amateur gardener?

With appreciation to Jim Stephens of Garden Ruminations, who hosts Six on Saturday each week.

Late Summer in the Garden: To Do, To Do Less, and What to Avoid

You might enjoy my series of posts, Plants I Love That Deer Ignore.

Visit Illuminations for a daily photo and quotation