Dividing and moving: twenty-two clumps shifted in one long weekend
The plan was drawn in January on graph paper, one square to 30 cm, with the existing plants marked in pencil and the moves in red pen. By April it had been redrawn three times. The weekend chosen was the third in April because the soil had finally dried enough to walk on without compacting, the thermometer pushed into the bed at 10 cm read 11 °C, and nothing in the border was more than a hand high. Two days, roughly eleven hours of work, and a sore back.
Twenty-two clumps were lifted. Most were divided: the geraniums and the alchemilla pulled apart by hand into four or five pieces each with roots and a few shoots; the astrantia and the hair grass cut through with an old bread knife, which works far better than a spade for anything with a dense crown; the two Japanese anemones left whole because they resent disturbance and I only wanted them moved, not multiplied. Everything I lifted from the clay came out as a lump; everything went back in with a bucket of compost worked into the hole and a handful of grit for the sedums.
The moves themselves came from two years of looking. Three single salvias scattered along the border became a group of five near the middle, with the bought additions. The grasses went from the back, where they vanished, to the front third, where the low sun reaches them. The anemones went from the sunny end, where they wilted every afternoon, to the shed end, where they should be happier and where they fill the July gap. The geraniums, divided, made a continuous edge along the whole front for the first time.
Everything was watered in with a full can each, about 10 litres, and again on the Tuesday because the week turned warm and windy. Losses so far: one piece of alchemilla that I planted too shallow and found lying on the surface a week later, and one hair grass division that was too small and has not moved. Everything else has new leaves at the base and the salvias are already showing flower spikes.
The biggest surprise was how quickly the border looked better. Not in flower, since very little was, but in shape: the repeating groups read even as green mounds. If I had known in 2024 how much moving things around would matter, I would have planted everything in fives from the start and bought fewer kinds.