What to Do in the Garden in October
Living North's gardening expert Ross Pearson shares his advice on what needs to be done in the garden this month
Out in the countryside, families in matching knitwear are dutifully marching through overpriced pumpkin fields for Instagram. ‘Just £10 per squash if you pick it yourself!’ says the sign, as people convince themselves it will all be worth it. Even the dog has an autumnal bandana. Meanwhile, you’re at home, quietly considering how soon is too soon to light the log burner, and whether owning a leaf blower might finally be worth the investment this year.
The garden stops shouting and starts whispering. You notice the small things again: a single rose hanging on in defiance, the delicate clatter of crispy leaves down the path, the steady trickle of acorns trying to brain you on the walk to the compost bin. Everything is a bit softer, a bit slower, a bit more reflective. There’s also the odd melancholy moment, usually brought on by the sight of a once-proud courgette plant reduced to green mush, or the discovery that you grew 19 tomatoes all summer and forgot to eat any of them. But this is good melancholy, the sort that reminds you the year is turning, the soil is still alive, but all the nonsense will begin again in due course.
So, take a moment. Make a plan. Burn the plan. Make another one. Walk the garden with purpose, or at least convincing aimlessness. Wear wool. Drink from a thermos that may or may not contain tea. Welcome to October, the month where gardeners pretend to be organised, while secretly doing a lot of optimistic faffing.
Callicarpa bodinieri ‘Profusion’
Let’s talk about berries. Not the edible sort (we’re not making jam) but the ones that look like they’ve escaped from a children’s cartoon. Enter Callicarpa ‘Profusion’, also known, rather dramatically, as the beautyberry. This is a plant that refuses to do subtle. All summer, it blends in like the quiet guest at a dinner party. Then autumn arrives, and it erupts with small clusters of berries so vividly purple they look almost radioactive. They’re somewhere between violet and Barney the dinosaur and frankly, it’s glorious.
The leaves turn buttery yellow before they drop, leaving the berries glowing against bare stems like botanical baubles. Birds don’t rush to eat them (which is helpful), and they last well into winter, long after everything else has given up and gone to bed.
Plant: Full sun or light shade, preferably in a sheltered spot. They like good drainage and a bit of room to breathe – this isn’t a plant that thrives when squashed behind the compost bin.
Care: Minimal. Prune in late winter to encourage new growth, which produces more berries. Otherwise, leave it alone and let it be fabulous. Think of it as the extroverted relative who only visits once a year but arrives wearing sequins and gin perfume. A showstopper, but on its own schedule.
Tidy the Greenhouse
If your greenhouse currently resembles a botanical crime scene – shrivelled tomato corpses, rogue courgettes that grew behind your back, and tools you definitely don’t remember leaving there – now’s the time for a clear-out. Remove all spent crops, sweep the floor (while trying not to disturb the spider mafia), and give the glass or plastic a wash. Fewer smudges mean more light in the darker months. While you’re at it, scrub pots, check for cracks in the panes, and pretend you always intended to be this organised.
Plant Spring Bulbs
October is the perfect month for bulb planting. Tulips, alliums, daffodils, crocuses, and other things with names that sound like minor Greek gods can all go in now. It’s a job that feels almost silly while everything else is dying back, but it’s a pure act of faith. Get them in before the frost arrives. Mix them in clumps, drifts, or “accidental chaos” for a more natural look. Don’t be stingy…bulbs are cheap joy, and there’s no such thing as too many when spring comes calling.
Collect Leaves
The lawn is now a leaf-magnet. Don’t leave them to rot into a slippery death trap. Collect them up, especially from grass and paths, but don’t throw them away. Pile them up in a corner or a black bin bag with a few holes punched in and forget about them for a year. Voilà: leaf mould. The caviar of compost.
Lift and Store Tender Perennials
Dahlias, cannas, and their frost-sensitive friends are not thrilled about October. If you’re in a frost-prone area, lift tubers once the foliage is blackened. Let them dry, brush off soil, and store them somewhere cool, dry, and spider-friendly. Or, if you’re feeling brave (and live in a milder part of the North), leave them in and mulch like your life depends on it. Either way, say a kind word before you abandon them to fate.
Pots: Clear, Refill, Repeat
Your summer containers have had a good run, but let’s be honest, they now look like something a goat fell asleep in. Clear them out, compost the contents (unless they’re riddled with vine weevil, burn those with feeling) and refill with autumn interest: cyclamen, violas, small grasses, maybe a dwarf conifer if you’re feeling retro. Think ‘compact seasonal joy’ rather than ‘tragic pot of pansies outside a dentist’.
Sow Broad Beans
If you’ve got a clear bed and a sense of optimism, now’s a great time to sow broad beans for an early spring crop. ‘Aquadulce Claudia’ is the go-to hardy; reliable, and sounds like an expensive perfume. Sow directly, cover if pigeons are loitering, and look forward to smugness in April.
Build Compost Piles
You’ve got heaps of stuff now, old foliage, plant debris, the lettuce that bolted in June and still haunts your dreams. Gather it all into a compost heap. Alternate green and brown material, chuck in some cardboard, and give it the occasional stir. It’s the alchemy of gardening – rot done right.
Plant Garlic
Garlic planted in October tends to produce stronger, plumper bulbs than spring plantings. Choose a named variety, break into cloves, and plant them two inches deep and six inches apart in well-drained soil. Cold snaps help them split, so don’t worry about the weather. Garlic thrives on adversity.
Check Structures
Now’s the time to check your shed roof and guttering, the greenhouse glass, the wobbly trellis you’ve ignored since June, and anything else that might not survive a winter gale. Because discovering structural failure during a December downpour is never joyful.
Final Thoughts
Despite its lack of horticultural perfection, October is by far and away my favourite month of the year. It’s all fire and gold above ground and quiet preparation below. The flowers are fading, the trees are shouting, and the soil is slowly drawing in breath. There’s less urgency now. Fewer pests. More time to think. More time to do things properly. And remember: it’s fine to do less now. The plants are. The insects are. Even the weeds are getting sleepy. Let the garden begin its descent with grace and a bit of flair. So, walk slowly. Kick leaves. Scribble plans on the back of seed catalogues. And just buy that overpriced pumpkin latte.
