Cutting back asparagus is a small lesson in patience and erosion control—not of soil, but of impulse. We live in a world that screams “do it now,” but the asparagus fern whispers, “wait for the gold.”
That moment when you finally snap the shears on a dry stalk? It feels oddly satisfying. Like finishing a good book or closing your laptop after a job well done.
So next time you see a bed of browning ferns in October, don’t rush. Let the frost kiss them first. Then, with a little ceremony, cut them down. Your future self—and your May asparagus soup—will thank you.
