Finding Balance After a Tough Garden Season

Wine & Whiskey
3 days ago
5 min read

Every gardening season has its challenges, but this one tested me more than most. It reminded me that even the things we enjoy can start to feel like work — and that there’s a big difference between tending to something and being tied down by it.

This season started off on the wrong foot. The spring was cool and slow to warm, then came the endless rain, and just as I thought things might even out, summer turned brutal. Weeks of heat and drought baked everything in sight. The grass crisped into straw, the lilacs dropped their leaves in protest, and my little side yard next to the Barn Lounge — normally green and peaceful — turned into a dust bowl. It was discouraging to see the space I look forward to all winter become something I didn’t even want to sit in.

The drought also forced me to face a hard truth: I spend an incredible amount of time watering. Dragging hoses, moving sprinklers, hand-watering the perennials — it’s constant. And because I’m on town water, it’s not just time-consuming, it’s costly. After a while, it started to feel less like a hobby and more like a job. If I didn’t do the work, the gardens would die — plain and simple.

And then came the deer. After decades of ignoring this property, they suddenly decided it was worth visiting — and apparently, worth revisiting again and again. They ate nearly everything they could reach Hosta, phlox, Montauk daisies, yews, and the young apple trees. I had exactly one apple growing this season — and of course, they got that too. The deer continued to munch all of the apple tree leaves leaving behind sticks. I used repellant, but not enough, and by midsummer it was clear I’d underestimated them.

These are "our" deer in the neighbor's yard enjoying the fallen apples.

Here is that ONE apple on the tree that the deer ate ☹️

What worries me most is that once the deer discover a food source, they don’t forget it. I doubt they’ll skip us next year. It’s not realistic to fence the entire property, and honestly, I don’t want to. The space feels open and natural, and I like it that way. But I’ll have to protect certain plants — especially the apple trees. A small, fenced area might be the best compromise. I’m also looking into different repellents and deterrents, because this battle seems far from over.

The unrelenting heat made it almost impossible to work for long stretches outside, especially on the new shade garden I started early in the season. Normally, I love being out there, but this year the air was so thick and hot I could barely tolerate it. It ended up taking the entire summer to finish the new garden because I had to chip away at it little by little, working in short bursts whenever the weather allowed. I’m glad it’s finished now, but it wasn’t the kind of enjoyable, steady progress I’d hoped for.

Even the hardiest plants suffered — the Lemon Queen sunflowers and elderberry wilted, and the Joe Pye weed nearly dried up before I caught it. Even the rhododendrons, tucked into partial shade, looked miserable. I ended up watering them every other day, which made me question this whole gardening effort.

There were a few bright spots, thankfully. The hydrangeas and arborvitae seemed completely unbothered by the weather — thriving, actually (they were watered weekly). I picked a decent crop of elderberries before they wilted. The lavender did well too, as did the parsley, which I wasn’t expecting. The sage was slow to start but came through the drought fine in the end. The oregano, on the other hand, didn’t do as well as last year. I can’t tell if it was the abundance of early rain, the later drought, or something else entirely. Maybe I’ll try moving it next season and see what happens.

I did have a nice crop of blueberries — the reward for keeping them watered and covered with netting all season. And the Shasta daisies, yarrow, and black-eyed Susans provided enough blooms to make arrangements, so there were successes in the mix. But even those came with effort — consistent attention, watering, and maintenance to get them there.

So, when we planned a two-week trip at the end of September into October, I decided to test things. I didn’t ask a friend to water the gardens — I just let them be. It rained briefly one day during that stretch, and the weather was unseasonably warm. I figured it would be a good “survival of the fittest” moment: a chance to see what would make it on its own. When I came home, I was surprised — nothing was dead. Everything looked a little tired, but it survived. Even the pole beans I planted two weeks before departure grew a few beans. That taught me something important: maybe I don’t need to hover as much as I think. Maybe the garden can manage without me for a while.

I’m still a relatively new gardener — about five years in. Before that, I was a “curb appeal” gardener: tidy beds, low-maintenance plants, enough greenery to look nice without stealing too much of my free time. Somewhere along the way, I dove in deeper — and I’ve learned a lot — but this year made me question whether that’s still the right fit. I’m thinking of going back to my curb appeal roots (pun intended).

That realization has me rethinking not only the outdoor gardens, but the houseplants too. I’ve always had a few — maybe more than a few — scattered around the house. But every time I plan to be away for more than a week, I have to ask a friend to stop by and water them. It’s another layer of responsibility, and I’m starting to wonder if I really need that extra care on my list.

So now I’m just thinking it through. I still enjoy gardening, but I want it to be easier — less water-dependent, less needy, more resilient. I’ll be choosing plants that can fend for themselves and cutting back on anything that requires constant attention and spraying deer repellant regularly.

I guess that’s the lesson this season handed me — that freedom isn’t about getting rid of the things you love, it’s about finding balance with them. I’m still figuring out what that looks like for next year, but I know this: I don’t want to feel chained to the garden. I want to enjoy it — and still be able to take off in the RV when the mood strikes.

If you have found a way to balance the work of the garden with a life outside of the garden, I'd love to hear how you do it.

Here are videos of the garden.

In the Garden! Planting on Ledge: How I Garden in Rocky New Hampshire Soil with Just a Sled and Hoe