How to Keep Your Garden Alive During a Drought

My Hydrangeas Gave Up on Life

So last summer—actually, wait, it was two summers ago, the year my hydrangeas basically gave up on life—we had this brutal drought.

I'm talking six weeks without a drop of rain. The grass turned that sad, crunchy brown colour. My neighbour's roses looked like they'd been through a war. And my vegetable garden? Let's just say the tomatoes never recovered and I still haven't emotionally processed it.

Standing in my backyard with the hose at 7 AM, watching my water bill climb while my plants wilted anyway, I realised I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. Sure, I could design a beautiful outdoor space, spec the perfect patio furniture, choose planters that photograph like a dream. But actually keeping things alive when there's no rain for weeks on end?

Totally different skill set.

That summer taught me more about drought gardening than any article or landscaping course ever could. Some plants made it. Most didn't. And I learned—painfully, expensively—which strategies actually work and which ones are basically just throwing money and water at a problem that needs a smarter solution.

The Brutal Truth About Gardens and Drought

Here's what nobody wants to admit: when there's a real drought, not everything survives.

I know. That's not what you want to hear. You want me to tell you there's some magic trick that keeps everything lush and green even when it hasn't rained in two months. But that's not reality, and pretending otherwise just sets you up for disappointment and a massive water bill.

The goal during drought isn't to keep your garden looking like it's May in Seattle. The goal is strategic triage—saving what matters most, letting go of what you can replace, and making smart choices so you're not out there every morning with a hose wondering why you even tried to grow anything.

And your lawn? Let it go dormant. I'm serious. That brown grass isn't dead—it's sleeping. The roots are fine, and it'll green up again when rain returns. Fighting to keep a lawn green during drought is like bailing water out of a sinking boat with a teaspoon. Pointless and exhausting.

Mulch Like Your Garden's Life Depends On It

If I could go back and tell my past self just one thing before that catastrophic drought summer, it would be this: mulch everything. Now. Yesterday. Before the dry spell even starts.

I didn't mulch properly that year. I had maybe an inch of bark chips scattered around here and there, mostly for aesthetics. Totally insufficient.

After that summer, I went full mulch-obsessed. Every bed, every tree, every shrub got a thick blanket of wood chips. The next time we had a dry spell (last July, lasted about three weeks), the difference was dramatic. My garden stayed healthier with half the watering.

Watering Deeply vs. Watering Often

My watering strategy before the Great Drought Disaster of 2022 was: run around with a hose every day or two, giving everything a quick drink. This is—it turns out—exactly wrong.

Shallow, frequent watering encourages roots to stay near the surface where they're vulnerable to heat and drying out. You want deep roots that go down, down, down into the cooler, moister soil below.

I invested in soaker hoses after that summer. Best garden purchase I've ever made. I lay them under the mulch in my main beds, connect them to a timer, and let them run for about an hour once a week during dry spells. The slow, consistent moisture goes exactly where it needs to go—to the roots—instead of evaporating into the air.

The "Let It Die" Conversation

This is the hard part. Sometimes you have to let plants die.

I know. It hurts. That clematis you've been nursing for three years? The fuchsia that finally started flowering beautifully? The annuals you paid £40 for at the garden centre last month?

Some of them aren't going to make it. And trying to save everything means you might lose everything instead, because you're spreading your limited water resources too thin.

What About Container Plants?

Spoiler: they're the first to go.

Pots dry out insanely fast. That beautiful container garden on your patio? It might need water twice a day during hot, dry weather.

This year, I cut my container plantings by 70%. Just a few pots near the front door with succulents. Everything else went into the ground.

The Lawn Conversation

Why I stopped caring if it's brown.

Dormant grass isn't dead grass. The crown and roots are fine. The grass is just conserving energy and water. Consider this: an average lawn needs about 30,000 gallons of water per season. That water could keep your trees alive. The lawn can recover. Dead trees can't.

Gray Water and Getting Creative

Grey water—water from sinks, showers, washing machines—can be used in your garden.

I started keeping a basin in my kitchen sink to catch water while rinsing dishes. On an average day, I collect 2–3 gallons. Over a week, that's 15–20 gallons going to my garden instead of down the drain.

My shower has a bucket in it now. My husband thinks I've lost it. My plants disagree.

The Aftermath

When rain finally came, I made another mistake: I got overeager about replacing everything that died. Don't do this.

The drought two years ago fundamentally changed how I garden. My current outdoor spaces are more sustainable, less stressful to maintain, and ready for the next dry spell.

The Bottom Line

Drought gardening isn't about tricks or hacks. It's about working with reality instead of against it.

Prioritise what matters. Mulch heavily. Water deeply but infrequently. Improve your soil. Choose plants adapted to your climate. Let your lawn go dormant without guilt. Use every drop of water efficiently.

Some plants will die. That's not failure—that's information. Replace them with something tougher.

My garden survived last summer's dry spell with minimal intervention. Not because I suddenly became an expert gardener, but because I learned from previous disasters and made structural changes that set me up for success.

Your future drought-stressed self will thank you. Trust me on this one.