The Unexpected Benefits of Avoiding Fall Yard Cleanup
At the end of July I usually get the itch to start my fall cleaning. I’ll prune the scraggly raspberries, mow the scraggly strawberry patch, and harvest the sweet peas. By the time fall rolls around, I spend several hours a day working in the yard, removing trellises, turning beds, pruning perennials, and putting things away for the winter. Until last year, when I just…didn’t do it. Instead, I adopted the dog, took him to sunny Arizona for a few weeks to hang out by the pool, and paid no attention whatsoever. Spoiler: Everything turned out well.
Your Yard May Surprise You in Spring
Now, of course, there are benefits to fall cleaning, which has many parts: trimming shrubs and trees, turning beds by removing annuals or spent plants and planting new ones, composting, mulching , seed saving , planting spring flowering bulbs , preparing for winter, and spring cleaning. The result of completing each of these tasks is that your yard will likely look tidier in the fall and winter, and the spring will be more blooming. However, I was shocked at how little benefit not taking these actions ultimately brought. By November, leaves covered my yard in a blanket of colors. Then the snow fell on him. People were still walking by, complimenting the garden, and I found myself wondering how much time I had saved. What surprised me even more was that as spring arrived, the garden seemed ready to take care of itself for the most part. The plants grew on their own from what I didn’t pull last year. The tomato bed, which I didn’t plant at all this year, is filled with better volunteers (plants that grow where last year’s seeds fell) than I would have planted. The consequences of my position of non-interference, of course, were obvious: there was less order in the garden. Douglas Astaires migrated from their bed into the clover; tomatoes and yarrow grew everywhere, in the raised beds and beyond; and my artichokes did not survive the winter without their usual blanket of deep mulch. But the result was something new and interesting after 13 years of doing the same thing.
More food for birds
Two years ago I planted a native berry island in my hell strip specifically for the local wildlife and birds. Currants, osobnika, blueberries, cranberries and other random berries replaced the grass that had never benefited me. Leaving the berries to last all winter has become a fun part of local poultry farming. I moved my Haikubox —a smart recording device that detects birdsong and alerts you to your phone—near the islands and was shocked by the variety of birds that made their way into my yard. After leaving berries behind last year instead of keeping the blueberry, raspberry, strawberry, boysenberry and blackberry bushes clear, these birds have spread throughout my yard, making nests and roosting in the boxes I left for them. This was the first winter I had a semi-successful harvest of winter crops – I usually lose them to slugs – and I think there is a correlation between the birds and the lack of slugs.
More resilient plants next year
It wasn’t just berries – I kept tomatoes, eggplant, corn and peppers, as well as all the flowers. And although I did some cleaning in the spring to clear the ground for new plants, the seeds that fell from last fall’s plants were still in the soil, and they sprouted, making my garden more diverse than ever. These seeds survived the winter, meaning the plants and fruit they produced were also more resilient. They appeared exactly when the soil was ready for them. In some cases, they appeared in random places rather than where they were the previous year, abandoned by snacking bees and birds. By spring, the plants left in the soil had mostly composted on their own. I found myself thinking that I mostly made beds to make them look clean and tidy for my own pleasure; the plants themselves did not need this.
Leaving the leaves protects beneficial insects.
I stopped picking up leaves several years ago—even taking leaves from neighbors who helpfully dump bags of them in the middle of my yard. I use a leaf blower to move them into the beds where they act as mulch and they break down over the winter. They also provide beneficial insects with nesting sites throughout the winter. In the spring I try my best not to peel them, but you need to wait until the temperatures are warm enough, which means when you plant your tomatoes you can peel the leaves. I suspect that at this point you will find that the leaves have managed themselves through composting. Since I started doing this I have started to see the return of swallowtail butterflies and solitary bees and I have fewer aphids. I’ve seen bats twice in the past year—enough to build a bat house—and have regularly seen a possum on my security cameras. Both are considered excellent signs of garden health. My water features now have frogs in them.
My yard is healthier than ever because I’m doing less, and even though my yard looks messier, I prefer to feel comfortable. This year I’m splitting the difference: taking the trellises down, doing all the pruning, but lightly touching the beds and not worrying about the leaves. You can choose which aspects of fall cleaning you do, but if you’re looking for an excuse to give yourself a little grace to not do it all, here’s a good option: It might be healthier for you and your garden. .