You can always tell when Denver’s about to tip into winter. The air gets thin, sharper somehow, and the sunlight feels more like a lightbulb than a heater. By mid-October, I’ve already got neighbors hollering over the fence—“Hey, should I still bother with mulch?”
I laugh because it’s always the same question, every year. And my answer never changes: yes, you should.
Thing is, most folks think mulch is just for looks. You throw it down, make the beds tidy, call it good. But here, in this city that can’t decide if it wants to snow or shine, mulch is a shield. It’s what keeps the dirt from turning into cement halfway through January.
The Real Enemy Isn’t the Cold
It’s the wind. That dry, sideways gust that never quits. You feel it tearing through the yard while you’re trying to hang Christmas lights. It pulls the last bit of moisture out of the ground. The top layer turns to dust, then freezes solid. By spring, you’re digging through a crust of misery.
A couple of inches of mulch changes that. It calms the ground down. It keeps what little moisture we’ve got trapped where roots can use it. When the snow finally melts, and it will, all at once like it always does, the dirt underneath is still soft enough to give. You can actually stick a shovel in it without swearing.
The Good Stuff vs. The Pretty Stuff
If you’re wondering what kind to use, don’t overcomplicate it. Go with bark, pine needles, cedar, whatever you can get your hands on. We’ve used all of it, sometimes mixed together. It breaks down, feeds the soil, smells like the mountains after rain. That’s the good kind.
Just don’t pile it high around your trees. We’ve all seen those “mulch volcanoes” that choke the life out of trunks. Give things space to breathe. A little gap makes all the difference.
Rock mulch looks clean, I get that. But rocks hold heat in the summer and cold in the winter. They don’t care what your plants need. I use them for paths or around the mailbox, nowhere else.
When to Get It Done
If you’re waiting for the “right” time, you’ll miss it. There’s no magic date. You do it when the nights start to bite, when you’ve already raked up half the yard and you’re wearing gloves for the first time in months. That’s your sign.
If the soil’s dry, give it a light soak. Then spread a couple inches of mulch: not too neat, just enough to cover the bare spots. You don’t need to measure it; eyeball it and move on.
Come Spring, You’ll See
Here’s the part nobody believes until they see it: next spring, the beds that were mulched last fall will wake up first. Every time. The soil stays softer, weeds have a harder time getting started, and those perennials push through like they own the place.
It’s one of those quiet chores that doesn’t feel urgent until you skip it once—and then you never skip it again.
Need a hand?
BNB’s been helping Denver yards survive winter and come back stronger for years. We handle the mulching, the cleanup, all the little details you’d rather not deal with in the cold. Call when you’re ready! We’ll make sure your garden’s tucked in before the first snow.
