THE SUMMER THAT'S GONE 



WHOEVER it was that first thought of dividing 

 the year into seasons, and however he came to 

 do it, one thing is certain: he was no gardener. 

 For of all misleading ideas from the plant 

 grower's standpoint, that of four distinct, equal 

 periods each with its own characteristics and phenomena affect- 

 ing only the plant progress of that particular three months is 

 one of the most pernicious. 



Consider the summer and spring just past. They have 

 brought, of course, their trials and tribulations — frost and 

 drought, heat and severe storms. The late cold snaps took 

 their toll of blossoms and the fruits that should have followed 

 them; heavy rain at blooming time prevented more or less 

 pollination, it is true. But while these catastrophes are attrib- 

 utable to causes that immediately preceeded them, there has 

 been a considerable amount of wilting, yellowing, and falling 

 of foliage and even the death of many plants because of which 

 gardeners have "cussed out" those same frosts and droughts 

 when the real cause of the trouble should have been sought 

 much farther back. 



Let us, then, get away from the belief that untoward condi- 

 tions during a particular growing season — using the word in a 

 horticultural rather than a calendar sense — are the sole and 

 entire cause of the disappointments of that same period. Let 

 us, at the same time, cease imagining that it is the favoring 

 features of such a period that are primarily responsible if it 

 happens to be marked by exceptional garden development. 



Rather, let us recognize the fact that the phenomenon of 

 growth in perennial plants is a continuous, uninterrupted per- 

 formance, extending from one year into the next so that the 

 fundamental causes of successes and failures to-day may trace 

 'way back among the climatic or other peculiarities of seasons 

 and even years that have long since passed. 



THIS time, a twelve month back, plants were completing a 

 vigorous season's growth. But, as fall came on, and then 

 winter, many plants, instead of rapidly and thoroughly ripening 

 their tissues and entering a long period of dormant recuperation, 

 under the influence of a long, warm autumn and an exceptionally 

 mild winter, failed to get "soundly to sleep." Between De- 

 cember and March there were weeks when new leaves were to 

 be found on more than one species of shrub; in many places the 

 ground never froze hard enough to justify mulching; cover 

 crops of Crimson Clover remained green all winter even in the 

 latitude of New York. In short, while the plant kingdom in 

 the temperate regions was inactive as far as building up tissue 

 and storing up food were concerned, it was using up 

 energy and lessening its supply of reserve strength with which 

 to start the spring season of .192 1 . 



Starting fully a month ahead of the usual schedule, warm 



growing weather had the plants up and growing exceptionally 

 early — and their condition can doubtless be accurately com- 

 pared with that of a person aroused at five-thirty to catch an 

 early train after a broken slumber following a very late and 

 hilarious party. They were, as you might say, hardly "fit." 



And then, instead of an easy, salubrious spring and summer, 

 what did they encounter?: — Late frosts, long continued droughts; 

 extremes of heat; and rain, when it came, in deluges and down- 

 pours. Just to indicate how unusual the weather was, the 

 Weather Bureau records show that between January first and 

 August fifth, the aggregate daily average temperatures exceeded 

 the total of the ten-year averages for the corresponding days by 

 more than 900 degrees! During the same period, the sum 

 total of the daily precipitation fell below the corresponding 

 accumulative figure for a ten-year period by more than four 

 inches or the equivalent of a full month's rainfall! 



Is it any wonder that, in this enervated condition, many 

 a tree failed to pump its sap to its topmost branches, the leaves 

 of which thereupon turned yellow, drooped, and perhaps fell 

 to the ground? Is it any wonder that many perennials bloomed 

 precociously — then pined away and died? Is it any wonder 

 that shrubs that had appeared sturdy and thoroughly estab- 

 lished in past years, gave up the fight? Is it any wonder that 

 there has been wailing and gnashing of teeth in many gardens? 

 And, finally, is it to be wondered at if before the summer of 

 1922 more losses are suffered — ostensibly and presumably as 

 the result of "early frosts" and "winter killing," but actually 

 due in large measure to the accumulated effects of the history 

 we have just reviewed? 



All this is no cause for discouragement, however, even though 

 it seems to indicate that, after all, we gardeners are largely at 

 the mercy of phenomena over which we have and can hope to 

 have no control. Rather, in view of the troublous times we 

 have passed through, may we congratulate ourselves that our 

 losses have been no more severe, and be thankful for whatever 

 success has come to us in our gardens. 



OF COURSE there are lessons involved. (That is one of 

 the wonderful things about gardening — there is never a 

 failure or a disappointment but it points out the way to better 

 methods and greater chances of success.) The first is the ever- 

 wise suggestion that in our planting we use mainly, if not ex- 

 clusively, species and varieties which we know for a certainty 

 are perfectly adapted to our localities and therefore best fitted 

 to survive such obstacles as may arise. For example, in north- 

 ern New Jersey this past summer, the yellowing and dropping of 

 Maple foliage was especially noticeable after the long drought 

 of June and early July. But it was noticed that this took place 

 almost without exception on Rock or Sugar Maples and hardly 

 ever on the Norway and soft species. Well, the Sugar Maple is 

 essentially a tree of upper New York and New England, of 

 regions of low temperatures and deep, cool soils; the Norway 



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