I’m looking for relief – from the heat. I’m dripping, and I can’t sleep, so I figure I may as well garden. There’s just one problem: It’s dark. But with each hot flash, you get more creative. I found a miner’s helmet in a catalogue of hard-to-find tools; it’s perfect for nighttime gardening.
Before you write me off as hormonally imbalanced, hear me out. There are a number of gardening tasks that are perfectly suited for the dark. Slug patrol, for starters. Come on, who among us has not gone slug hunting with a flashlight and a six-pack of beer. For bait, of course. I even talked my husband into joining me one night. I used the old excuse of “sharing the experience.” He falls for that line every time. He was actually quite good at it, but resented the sacrifice – the beer, not the sleep.
Transplanting, too, is well suited for nighttime gardening. Here’s how it works: during the day, I use Day-Glo paint – two colors – to spray the ends of stakes. I place the first (orange) stake next to a plant in need of relocating. The second (green) stake goes next to the pre-dug hole where the plant will end up. That way, at night, I simply aim my wheelbarrow toward the glowing orange stake and dig up the plant. I then head to the green stake, where I pop my transplant into its new home. There’s a massive plant relocation program going on in my yard tonight. Consider this an invitation.
Mulching can also be done in the dark, especially if you just need to deposit wheelbarrow loads in one location. I save the finer tasks, like spreading the mulch, for daylight. I’m not crazy.
Deadheading in the dark is an ideal task too. The shaft of light provided by the miner’s helmet is just enough to shine a light on a single plant, so you can really focus on removing those spent blossoms. No distractions at 3 a.m., either.
There’s a lot happening in the garden at night. My moonflower vine unfolds when coaxed with even the smallest amount of moon- or helmet-light, and bats are busy nighttime pollinators.
All gardening is an act of faith; nighttime gardening is an act of devotion, though my neighbors might call it dementia.