Another favorite gardening book of mine is The Gardener’s Year, by Karel Capek. A lighthearted, amusing book, this one is also fairly short and a really fast read.
It was originally published in Czech in 1929 and in English in 1931. It had been out of print for years when the University of Wisconsin Press published it again in 1984, as part of a series of “classic” gardening books.
The Gardener's Year
Capek, a passionate gardener himself, has a knack for communicating the idiosyncrasies of gardeners.
For instance, here is a bit on becoming a gardener: “Your relation towards things has changed. If it rains you say that it rains on the garden; if the sun shines, it does not shine just anyhow, but it shines on the garden; in the evening you rejoice that the garden will rest.” What gardener can’t relate to that? I know my relationship to the weather underwent a dramatic shift when I started to garden—the high winds we have in this area almost give me physical pain as I worry about my delphiniums and hollyhocks getting bent over, and wonder if I should have staked my lilies.
And here is a bit on seeds: “I always thought that a plant grew either from the seed downwards like a root or from the seed upwards like the haulm of a potato. I tell you that it is not like that. Almost any plant grows from under the seed upwards, lifting the seed on its head like a cap. Think if a child should grow carrying its mother on its head.”
This book is a very enjoyable read—amusing and quirky, and the author never takes himself too seriously. One of my very favorite parts is the gardener’s prayer:
“If it were any use, the gardener would fall on his knees every day and would pray perhaps something like this: ‘Lord God, bring it about somehow so that it rains every day from about midnight to three in the morning, but, You know, slowly and warmly enough for it to soak in, but, at the same time, so that it doesn’t rain on the Sweet William, Madwort, Rock Rose, Lavender and those other plants which, by Your infinite wisdom, are known to You as drought-loving plants—if You like, I’ll write them down for You on a sheet of paper; and let the sun shine all day, but not everywhere (for example, not on the Spiraeas, nor on the Gentians, Funkia or Rhododendrons) and not too much; let there be lots of dew and only a little wind, plenty of worms, no aphids or slugs, no mildew, and let it rain diluted dung water and pigeon droppings once a week. Amen.’ ”
How perfect is that? 
