November is a dark month. It can be a rainy month. There is not much to do in the November garden, it appears, and nothing appears to be growing either — a fallow time of year, when what is happening is invisible to human eyes.
Motivation is often the question. The weather has turned nastier or maybe bone-chilling, days are shorter, and the wait for killing frost seems interminable, as one counts the shrinking weeks to the approaching holidays and the pressing inside activities that crowd our calendars.
Life has gone underground, as the metaphor of the classical Greeks (who were very observant) eloquently demonstrates: Hades, Lord of the Underworld, abducts Persephone, the embodiment of blooming life, and carries her down to the dark reaches of his realm, there to live with him.
But this is an illusion: in the garden world there is always something happening (or things to do), whether incremental or major, and a lot is going on. An example would be root growth, underground; both figuratively and literally the opposite of what happens in spring. Then the highly visible explosion of growth and activity in the natural world amazes even the least observant among us: Persephone returns! Now, however, the stage is being set.
Carrots
Are fall carrots more sweet, crunchy, brittle because of the infrared light that yields quality roots? I find the tops love to grow quickly and without setback in the cooler, moister, Island autumn, while the still-warm soil supports the roots. So I always prefer to sow carrot seed in the latter part of summer, rather than trying to grow a crop in the frequently dry Island spring in my non-irrigated garden.
This year on August 8 I sowed a row each of two different carrots, ‘Bolero’ and ‘Starica,’ plus a mélange row of odds and ends of previous years’ ‘Nantes’-type seeds. The ‘Nantes’ is one of four carrot types related to root shape and the one I prefer for my taste and garden’s soil.
(The three other types, each with slightly differing attributes, are the Danvers, the Chantenay, and the Imperator. The Chantenay type is recommended specifically for gardens with heavy or compacted soils. It is blockier and more wedge-like, and shorter than the three other types.)
I covered the seed with floating row cover and watered it, by hand and by sprinkler, almost daily while waiting for the seed leaves to emerge, which they did, quite quickly. The row cover remained in place until the growing tops visibly lifted it.
Carrots are nutritional powerhouses, rich in vitamins, anti-oxidants, and minerals. Surprisingly, according to Wikipedia, “Only 3 percent of theβ-carotene [nutritional precursor to vitamin A and incentive for eating carrots] in raw carrots is released during digestion: this can be improved to 39% by pulping, cooking and adding cooking oil.” This seems counter to what we usually think — fresh and raw is invariably superior — so is important to know.
We are eating and sharing the carrots now, and mighty nice they are.
Fall cleanup
As examples of incremental gardening activity I always cite weeding and leaf harvest. A family disagreement exists, reflecting quite different MO’s, between my husband and me. His approach is the wholesale one: all at once. He sees no point in doing anything about leaves until they are all down, and raking can be done “once and for all.”
This is consistent with an approach you need to take when you are being paid to do fall cleanups. For myself, in my own garden, however, my opinion is that this makes for a garden that for much of the season is weedy/unsightly, or covered in leaves. I prefer to do some weeding every day, or harvest some leaves on a steady basis, and keep on top of the situation. Otherwise, by waiting until early December, many leaves are blown into the woods and lost, and it is often cold and wet then, too.
Since leaves are such an extraordinarily valuable resource — free, too — efforts should be made to get all of them but without having to endure a marathon of effort. A little here and a bit there, and eventually it all gets harvested into mounds of future leaf mold.
Moving inside
November is time to “play indoors,” if you have a greenhouse, sunspace, or bright window array, that is. The many pots of hippeastrum (“amaryllis”) and fall blooming Thanksgiving and Christmas cactus (Schlumbergera) that I carried down into the darkest corner of my cellar in early September can now emerge after their rest period. All the others, except the hardiest potted bay, rosemary, and agave plants, have been dragged inside, where, to my amazement, the flowering has intensified on orchids, calamondin orange, dwarf pomegranate, tibouchina, cyclamen, and geraniums.
The darkness will have retarded development in the cactus buds and permitted them to synchronize somewhat with their respective holidays. This year’s Thanksgiving is late, however, and my plants look as if their big display will peak before then.
The cultivars of Schlumbergera fall into two main groups: the S. truncata, which has pointy, claw-like leaf segments; and S. Buckleyi, with more rounded, symmetrical leaf segments. The S. truncata group blooms earlier and likely to be called Thanksgiving cactus, while the S. Buckleyi group is later blooming and likely to be called Christmas cactus.
Both groups are epiphytic and are found growing on trees, similar to many orchids, in their native Brazil. Therefore they prefer a fast-draining soil mix, although it should be rich as well. While coming into bloom, take care not to overwater plants; this may cause flowers to disintegrate faster. As light levels increase in February, start watering and feeding regularly to set the stage for a great display a year from now.