The Quiet Work

Cloches, Cover Crops, and Bulbs

October in the Northwest carries a quiet weight. By day, the air along the Skagit River can still blanket us with warmth—maples catching light in pockets of a golden glow near Mount Vernon, salmon running with their own urgency, the hum of harvest festivals at the markets reminding us of abundance. But by night, the chill settles deep. Walking out to the garden after sundown, you can feel winter already whispering in your bones.

At Jennings Park in Marysville, the community garden beds stand in transition. A late bee hovers near the last cosmos bloom, while cover crop seed waits in the gardener’s hand—an act of faith in cold soil. Along the shoreline at Camano Island State Park, the wind off the water carries salt and cedar, reminding us that the circle of seasons is turning.

This is the season of building shelters for our gardens, and for our spirits.

Cloches: Holding the Light

In October, we construct cloches—plastic-skinned hoop houses that hold a gentler climate within. Unlike cold frames with solid sides, these curved shelters let the Maritime Northwest’s soft, diffuse light reach from all directions, giving kale and spinach a chance to thrive even under low skies.

Imagine standing in your garden in La Conner, hands firm on your new plastic covers while geese fly overhead. The act feels both practical and ceremonial. You are preparing a sanctuary for the months ahead.

But don’t be tempted to seal the cloche as if it were a tomb. Open its ends on days above 40°F—like lifting windows in an old farmhouse on a bright autumn morning. Venting lets air move, keeps disease from taking hold, and reminds us that even in winter, gardens need breath. And when rains come, peel back the covering so the earth can drink deeply. Twice a month in fall, more often as spring returns.

Do you notice how tending to plants this way is also a mirror? How often do you, too, need breath, space, and water to remain alive in difficult seasons?

Cover Crops: Planting Resilience

As October advances, there is still time to sow resilience. In Stanwood, as fields stretch wide toward Warm Beach, Austrian field peas and fava beans can take root in cooling soils. Pair them with rye or oats to give structure and protection through the damp months.

Cover crops are not just about soil health—they are about trust. You may not see their benefit until next year, yet they knit unseen threads, just as community gardens across Puget Sound bind neighbors together. If birds or squirrels scratch too eagerly at your sowing, a thin veil of row cover will guard the promise until it germinates.

SOW OUTDOORS THROUGHOUT OCTOBER

If you like to eat onions, garlic and other fragrant alliums, this is the month to get them planted. You can sow fava beans now to enjoy sautéed with garlic scapes in April and May. This is also the month to plant spring flowering bulbs.

GRASS FAMILY

Gramineae

Barley, Oats, Rye, Spelt, Triticale, Wheat.

ONION FAMILY

Amaryllidaceae

Garlic: Artichoke, Hardneck, Silverskin. Onions: Rakkyo, Multiplier. Shallots.

PEA FAMILY

Fabaceae

Fava Beans, Snow Peas

Planting Alliums and Spring Blooms

October is also the month to plant what will carry us into spring. Garlic cloves pressed into the earth in Arlington now will rise with scapes ready to sauté come April. Fava beans sown today may meet those garlic shoots in the skillet, a gift of timing.

And for those who long for beauty after the grey—this is bulb-planting season. In your beds in Conway or tucked into the edge of a woodland garden near Lake Stevens, daffodils, crocuses, and fritillarias can naturalize year after year if given the right care. Planting bulbs is like writing a letter to your future self—“Remember joy. Remember color. Hold on, it is coming.”

Which bulbs might you plant this year as small promises for your future self?

SPRING BLOOMING BULBS
PLANT OUTDOORS THROUGHOUT OCTOBER

The flower bulb industry seems to exist to sell bulbs that act as annuals; the plants never perform in subsequent years quite as well as they do that first year. Here is a short list of bulbs and varieties that will naturalize and increase in splendor year after year, if given proper care.

BUTTERCUP FAMILY

Ranunculaceae

Grecian Windflower Anemone blanda: Charmer, Violet Star, White Splendor

ASPARAGUS FAMILY

Asparagaceae

Brodiaea spp.
Glory of the Snow Chionodoxa spp.: C. forbesii, C. luciliae
Grape Hyacinth Muscari spp.: M. armeniacum, M. latifolium

IRIS FAMILY

Iridaceae

Crocus spp.: C., tommasinianus, C. chrysanthus: Ladykiller, Blue Bird, Snowbunting
Iris reticulata: Joyce, Natascha, J.S. Dijt, Edward

LILY FAMILY

Liliaceae

Dog's Tooth Violet
Erythronium spp.: E. dens-canis, E. revolutum, Pagoda
Mission Bells Fritillaria spp.: Checker Lily, Crown Imperial
Lily Lilium spp.: L. henryi, L. pardalinum, L. regale, Oriental hybrids, Trumpet hybrids
Tulip Tulipa spp.: T. fosteriana, T. greiggi, T. kaufmanniana, T. batalinii, Darwin hybrids

ONION FAMILY

Amaryllidaceae

Daffodil spp.: Arctic Gold, Ceylon, Misty Glen, Tahiti, Jetfire, Quail, Thalia, Plenus, Bell Song
Onions, Ornamental Allium spp.: A. christophii, A. cowanii, A. moly, A. sphaerocephalum
Snowflakes Leucojum spp. and Galanthus spp.

TRILLIUM FAMILY

Trilliaceae

Trillium spp.

Honoring the Circle

As the month wanes, cultures across the world hold space for honoring the dead. Our gardens, too, reflect this truth. Leaves fall, soil rests, and the cycle closes. Standing in the fields at Riverfront Park in Sedro-Woolley, with fog rising off the Skagit, it is hard not to feel the presence of those who worked this land before us. Indigenous peoples marked this time as the closing of the natural circle of the year.

What parts of your own circle are asking to be acknowledged, or let go of, this season?

How Eco-Restore Can Help

At Eco-Restore, we walk beside you in this seasonal rhythm—helping build cloches that shelter your winter greens, planning crop rotations that weave resilience into your soil, and choosing bulbs and perennials that return stronger each spring. Together, we create gardens that honor both practicality and reverence—gardens rooted in place, echoing the cycles of Skagit and Snohomish alike.

This October, as you breathe in the scent of wet cedar and feel the cool weight of fog on your skin, may your garden remind you: shelter can be built, promises can be planted, and circles—both natural and human—can be honored with care.