A One Month Update

Sep28

Let me just prepare you ahead of time that there’s not much of an update, even though it’s been one day short of a full month since there’s been a blog post here. That’s a long time I admit, but it’s been dry, I’ve been back to work, and it’s been dry. The dry always gets me. Crunchy grass, dusty raking, and stuff just sits there and slowly debates whether or not it will hold on or go to the light. Watering would do magic, but for some reason I absolutely hate watering. One kinked hose, knocked over pot, or a watering can that needs a refill rather than being enough for the whole porch and I’m cursing up a storm. Plus I hate getting wet from watering. I can stand out in the rain until hypothermia threatens, but gosh if I get a little water on my foot or a spray in my face… I digress. I don’t like watering, it leaves an ugly taste in my mouth and maybe that’s my excuse for blog neglect. But…. the colchicums are blooming, and to see something up and fresh in a brown and wilted garden is maybe not inspiring, but at least it’s hopeful.

A nice bouquet of colchicum blooms braving the heat and drought. Some sort of C. speciosum, it came to me mislabeled.

Hopeful is also the rain which finally found us late last week. I’m remarkably optimistic again so lets hope it’s not another month before this blog is revisited!

‘Pink Star’ I believe, an excellent, long blooming cultivar that last for a few weeks even in the face of no water and glaring September sun.

So colchicums. I think you know the drill. Poisonous so resist eating them, leafy spring foliage which dies back in June, Flowers which appear just as the rest of the garden is starting to give up.

The tail end of the colchicum season in a crispy and dusty colchicum bed.

There are quite a few colchicum in this garden now. Finding different forms takes a bit of searching, and sometimes finding a correctly named different form is a struggle, but it’s worth it. To me at least. I hear there are plenty of people out there who have just a single bunch or two and are very satisfied, and I even have a friend or two who don’t grow any… but I try to keep open minded in my friend group, and hope one day they’ll embrace the diversity.

‘Glory of Heemstede’ trying to rise above a mess of chrysanthemum. Finding a spot where the low blooms of colchicum display well, after everything else has grown up during the summer, is sometimes a struggle.

This year I’m maybe admitting that some colchicum are nicer than others, and by that I mean put on a better show and have a longer bloom season. Keep in mind that shady practices and a questionable gardener and garden soil really influence my favorites, but this year I would say my longest blooming, best shows are from C. cilicium, x byzantinum, ‘Disraeli’, ‘Giant’, C. autumnale ‘album’, ‘alboplenum’, ‘Sparticus’, x agrippinum, and ‘Pink Star’. Maybe I’ll add the floppy ‘Lilac Wonder’. She flops so don’t expect anything else, but is so reliable I can’t leave her out.

‘Sparticus’ has a smaller flower in a light shade of pink. Always neat, and even after a week or two still fresh as ever.

By the way, if you’re in the US and struggling to find a few more unusual ones it might not hurt to contact Kathy Purdy at Cold Climate Gardening, or Facebook or Instagram… she doesn’t reeeaallly sell them, but if you’re really nice and sound desperate and she has spares you never know who might send you a price list next summer 😉

x Agrippinum is a good one for smaller gardens. The spring foliage is small and low and no trouble at all and the low flowers last for a while. I plan to move a few into the new rock garden, I think it’s a perfect spot.

So do I have enough colchicums, or perhaps too many? Hahahaha, of course not! I still need bigger patches, even if there might be one or two who could do better. I should be splitting clumps right now as they flower, it’s easy to find them and if you do it before the flowers fade it’s unlikely the roots have sprouted much yet, and you can see exactly where the good spots for more colchicum are!

Colchicum here and there. C. autumnale ‘album’ is a tiny white flower, but probably one of the longest bloomers, and it does well here. Don’t be fooled by the petite blooms though, the spring foliage is regular sized.

And that’s all I’ve got. The rain brought a tint of green to the lawn so I spent all day Saturday chopping down dead things, mowing up dried things, and going over the “lawn” to take the top off all the weeds. I even edged and blew off the walks. It looks so so so much better and even inspired me to dig up a bed in the potager and plant some lettuce seedling for the fall.

I found a $3 six pack of lettuce seedlings at my local farmstand, split them and it’s probably the best $3 I’ve spent in a while… although the $3 cauliflower I bought was a delicious monster!

Hope your autumn is off to a good start. I’m mildly optimistic even if I have far fewer chrysanthemums than I need and there are still no fall blooming snowdrops up but you have to count the wins, and the rain was a definite win. Maybe it will inspire me to manage a few replies to month-old comments and maybe another blog post some time sooner than later, but my history says otherwise. I think you will have an excellent week regardless!

Leave the Leaves?

Oct20

Autumn has its moments but without a few rainy days and minus the cooler temperatures I’m at a loss. We could use some rain. The lingering annuals and a bunch of perennials, and even some shrubs, are wilting now and between you and me I’m almost hoping for a strong frost to come along and put things out of their misery rather than spend the next few weeks hoping for some last-minute miracle to come along and renew the decaying garden. I was also warm yesterday when I was out doing something in the sun, and flirted with breaking a sweat… which is totally inappropriate for this season of briskness and cozy jackets.

A form of the native aromatic aster, I think this one is ‘Raydon’s Favorite’, should be in every garden. It outblooms most chrysanthemums and is a late season pollinator magnet. Here a final bloom of the rose ‘Rosarium Uetersen’ adds a nice dash of coral pink.

Fair warning that this gardener rarely has a kind word to share about the autumn season, so don’t worry that my disgust and lack of interest in the yard means I’m struggling with some kind of seasonal trauma that I’m barely surviving, because that’s not the case. I’ve been busy and motivated, just not in the garden. Garage cleanouts, painting, puttering, and life in general are moving along nicely and I don’t really mind that the daily garden tour has turned into a ten minute walk of ‘meh’.

October colors in the front border. Okay, but kinda boring to be honest.

It’s been somewhat warm and the forecast promises warmer for the next few days, but I did notice a few things have been touched by frost. Coleus mostly. Cuttings were saved a few weeks ago and are doing fine, as well as all the other tender goodies which were dragged inside before the cold, and for some reason this year it didn’t seem like nearly as much work as other years. Many things are in the new basement area and apparently having enough space for your plants goes a long, long way in making the indoor migration less painful. As a way of celebrating I stopped by a greenhouse clearance sale last week and bought four new plants and that of course is not a problem at all since I stayed under fifteen dollars and I’m sure many people have purchased just one single orchid and then stopped.

I love euphorbia ‘Ascot Rainbow’ and hope it can survive the winter in this pot. Normally they are borderline hardy here, but maybe if I drag the pot under the protection of the front porch it will stand a chance.

So upon review it sounds like I’m just waiting for winter to come and wipe the outside garden’s slate clean and that might be a fairly accurate assessment. Year round gardening works for some people but I like a nice winter break, a season and a time to reflect, and maybe a pause in the battle to regroup. Some things look messy now and I like that I can tidy them up once at this time of year and have it stay that way rather than face a new field of weeds the week after I pull them all.

The potager two days before frost singed the awesomeness of the banana. Bringing other things in was a breeze, but digging and lugging this beast in?… remains to be seen.

A clean slate in autumn and ‘leave the leaves’ doesn’t necessarily play well together since my impression of the ‘leave the leaves’ movement is that one should leave all the decay of autumn in place until June or whenever of next year just in case a bee or lightning bug chooses to overwinter in that twig or under that leaf. It’s not a bad reminder that a tornado of leafblowers and a lawn crew which trundles off every last bit of fallen foliage is only leaving a barren wasteland of exposed soil, but it shouldn’t shame you into staring at a drift of leaves against your back door and a depressing flowerbed full of scarecrow twigs all winter. Do what you want. It’s your garden and as a gardener you’ve probably already thought about how your garden fits in with the natural world and how happy you’ve been to find it swarming with birds and insects and wildlife in general. Shame should be reserved for the desolate weed-free lawns of a golf course or the monotonous mono-plantings of some dull homeowner association. If you needed it I give you permission to trim back the dead things which offend you and remove the leaves which have become too much. Your garden will still be a refuge.

The last blooms of clematis ‘venosa violacea’ are as pretty as the first and are probably more numerous since I gave the vine a little trim after its first flush of flowers. A friend said trim it back completely in July, but I wasn’t that brave.

So that’s a lot of tough talk from someone who is likely to never have an immaculate garden to begin with. Other homeowners are complaining about a few leaves blowing into their yard and sullying their pristine turf while I’m usually wishing for a windy day to dump everything here. Most will stay where they fall but at some point a mower bag full of their chopped brothers will be spread on top. It’s a rare day when a twig or stem ends up in the trash and these days there’s not even much going to the compost pile since I tend to tuck pulled weeds and such into the depths of the borders. It may not be ideal from the perspective of the every leaf is sacred crowd, but even after a run through the mower for the sake of neatness and then a toss back onto the beds these processed leftovers still serve plenty of good.

Frost asters galore in the weedier parts of the garden. These have a decent winter structure so will stay even after death…

Mid October. Meh. If the weather were different and I cared more there would be a cleanup in progress but this year I’m not there yet and the mess is fine. You look at your own mess though and feel free to clean up whatever you want and know that I’ll have your back, and in the meantime have a great week!

Flying Through November

Nov15

I swear Halloween was yesterday yet here we are already two weeks into the next month. Usually autumn is the season of painfully slow decay and death, a ‘stick season’, but over the past few years I’ve been developing a new appreciation for all the optimistic plants which take the cooler temperatures and run with them. Cyclamen come to mind, Cyclamen hederifolium in particular, and when cyclamen come to mind Edgewood Gardens also comes to mind, and when you’re that far into it what better than to hop in the car for an early November visit the see the gardens in person and visit with Dr Lonsdale?

Outside the cyclamen were wrapping things up, but in the greenhouse the show was still going full throttle. What a rich range of colors in these potted Cyclamen hederifolium.

This Edgewood cyclamen visit was under the guise of meeting up with snowdrop crazies and spending an afternoon admiring the full-bloom show of thousands of autumn snowdrops, and that was exciting, but I forgot how nice the cyclamen can be. My mind was again buzzing with the idea of keeping even more cyclamen potted up and under cover, able to be appreciated in any kind of weather and easily rearranged and admired at eye level rather than on your knees. My own are doing well in a coldframe, but maybe a second or bigger coldframe is something to consider…

The flowers are a floral spectacle but the foliage patterns and shapes also hold their own. Narrow, marbled, purple-veined, pink-flushed… the variety is amazing.

I guess to be somewhat helpful I should mention that there are four fairly hardy cyclamen species which are somewhat easy to get a hold of and experiment with outdoors in the more Northerly zones. These are nearly all the fall-blooming Cyclamen hederifolium, but there is another fall-bloomer, C. cilicium, and there’s the early spring blooming C. coum, and the attractively evergreen, summer-blooming C. purpurascens. Of the four I believe C. purpurascens might be the hardiest with a zone 5 rating, but as with most plants, location and snow cover probably play a huge part in how well hardiness really plays out.

Only the best forms end up in pots in the greenhouse. Besides looking even better that way they also serve as mother-plants, hopefully setting seeds for the next generation of even better varieties.

Did I crack and add a new cyclamen? Of course, but strangely enough it was a non-hardy Cyclamen graecum which ended up in my hand. Why add any more carefree, outdoor varieties when you can add one which needs a frost-free spot all winter and protection from rain all summer and will quickly die if you mess up? Message me if you know the answer…

And did I mention there would also be snowdrops?

The greenhouse benches were packed with autumn-flowering snowdrops.

Okay, so maybe I was also excited about other things. There was excellent company for the afternoon and more snowdrops than one would think would flower in November. We spent quite some time looking and talking about snowdrops and plants in general. Not bad at all.

Even more snowdrops, this time in the afternoon glow of a lowering sun. Days like this always end much too quickly.

So again, in a weak attempt to be useful, most people are familiar with the early spring blooming types of snowdrops (Galanthus), but other species and forms exist. For this visit we were catching the down side of the Glanthus reginae-olgae season, but the peak of the G. bursanus season. From what I know they are both strictly fall-blooming species (ok, r-o does have a spring blooming subspecies…) but there are others which straddle the line. Galanthus elwesii is mostly spring-blooming, but there are a bunch which begin in the fall or early winter and quite a few of them were also showing on this visit…. plus some G. peshmenii and quite a few G. cilicius (which may not be hardy enough for most Northerners) and I guess that’s about it and I apologize for going on again.

The next generation of cyclamen. Just imagine the joy of potting up every. single. last. one. of these.

Did I crack and buy a new snowdrop? Strangely no. I’m just that responsible and frugal that I resisted completely. That and college visits have been happening, and apparently prices have gone up and between that and a home remodel I have decided I’m broke… or rather my wallet told me and I’ve only just now recently received the message.

Be fruitful and multiply! That’s what I whispered to this amazing combination of dark flowers and silvery foliage.

The reality of my own autumn snowdrop successes is another thing which poured cold water on my delusions of pregaming the winter snowdrop show. For as much as the hardiness and tenacity of fall blooming snowdrops has impressed me, the frequency of failure in these fall wonders has kept me from diving in too deep. A case in point is my amazing little clump of G. peshmenii (but probably really G reginae olgae) which over maybe six years had gone from a single bulb to at least nine flowers last year. This year it’s nothing. “going back” is the term I’ve heard for clumps which go from excellent to nearly dead in the span of a year, and I’m going to guess some bacteria or fungus got in there this summer and that’s why. Fortunately there are a few bits of foliage finally coming up, and I hope in another six years I might be back to 7 or eight blooms… unless these weak leaves are one last show just to say goodbye… in which case I hope they get a move on it because I’m not getting any younger.

A struggling Galanthus reginae olgae clump. Maybe there’s a rotted flower stalk visible which would indicate some kind of botrytis or stagonospora infection, but of course that doesn’t matter since I’m not ready to douse my plants with fungicides and will just hope for the best.

So my best clump has almost died out and to be honest every other snowdrop up already has been chewed to the ground by slugs. Silly me, I didn’t put slug pellets down, right? Well that’s because slugs are rarely a problem here so who would think to do that? At first I thought some ignorant bunny or bird was snipping off blooms, but after the fourth or fifth clump was wiped out I finally figured it out, and now I own my first box of slug pellets and I’m not afraid to use them.

Perhaps the giant deciduous leaves of Magnolia macrophylla aren’t a good pairing for fall snowdrops but G. elwesii ‘Barnes’ found a big enough gap to come up through.

So maybe the later fall snowdrops will have more success. The fall Galanthus elwesii are starting, and although they often suffer terribly from sudden blasts of arctic weather, they also seem to forgive and forget, unlike the G. reginae olgae which seem to hold a grudge and enjoy being spiteful. Even rotten, mushy leaves in January don’t necessarily mean death for the G. elwesii, they sometimes pop up the next fall as if they were just kidding about the being dead thing.

‘Hoggets Narrow’ is probably my favorite fall blooming Galanthus elwesii. I love the long form and the grace of the blooms, and even if he likes to die dramatically each year from some hard mid-winter freeze, he still comes up again in the fall. I’m pleased there are two blooms this year.

Sorry. This is probably all too much snowdrops for November so here’s the rest of the garden.

My first year with Ajania pacifica, a chrysanthemum relative from Eastern Asia. I’m looking forward to seeing it grow into a nice big clump of neat foliage and bright yellow November buttons.

Last blooms, changing foliage colors, and a billion end of year chores. We had our killing frost, and although it’s warmer again and will likely stay that way for a while I’ll probably need all that time to get even somewhere close to everything done.

I suddenly have evergreen structure for the winter. Tiny little nubbins have gained presence and with the grass still green it’s a nice view as everything else goes into hiding.

I did manage to finish the dirt moving. The dream was a November finish line and I was as shocked as anyone to see it really worked out. Things are too late to do much planting, but I’m dumping grass clippings over the bare soil and throwing down some grass seed to mix in and hopefully something comes up first thing next spring. If it does, it does, and I have too much cleanup to do to overthink it too much other than to remember how much grass I’ve weeded out of flower beds. Grass is my worst weed, so I can’t imagine having to try too hard to get it to grow on purpose.

Remember the tulips I dug? In a moment of revelation I realized planting tulips was more satisfying than seeding grass so why not just call it a new bed and stick the bulbs there?

Moving dirt is hard work and requires many rest breaks. During some of the rest breaks stupid ideas germinate, and before you know it you’re digging up a sad little boxwood hedge and framing out a new tulip bed and then you might as well frame up a new tropical bed or daylily farm while you’re at it. A useful fact is that November is pretty late to be carelessly ripping up boxwood and popping it in elsewhere but I’m sure you knew that just like I do, and I also know I shouldn’t still trim the boxwood since it will likely freezer-burn the fresh cuts when it gets cold, but how can I stand looking at a rollercoaster top of the hedge when it should be level? I guess it settled very unevenly after I replanted it last spring.

Here’s the question… the bare soil will become yet another bed, and I want to line it on one or two sides with boxwood. Too much? Or just a nice try at more winter interest?

So when is too much boxwood too much? Boxwood blights and boxwood caterpillars are going to reach this garden someday, but not today, and perhaps I should just have my fun while I can, but someday I can see regretting not being more proactive. To be clear, I’m really not adding anything, just moving hedge I already have but maybe I’m missing a chance to try something new.

Maybe crushing all these decisions into the last un-frozen weeks of 2023 is also not the best process, but I really need to clear out my spring calendar for snowdrops, so better to get this out of the way now. Oops, there’s that snowdrop thing again, sorry. I shall try to make it longer next time without mentioning them. Have a great week 😉

A Case of the Lazies

Sep27

You would think that with all the hand sanitizer, distancing, staying at home, and hand washing, that there would have a sterile cloud surrounding me, but somehow I’ve still managed to catch a case of the lazies. What a surprise, right? I’ve never really shown much immunity, so all it really takes is a cloud across the sun, a temperature slightly too cool, or a day with a nice breeze to trigger a relapse. I guess that happened. My wife will tell me I should have worn a coat. My son will ask if I want another donut. It’s easy to see the struggle.

The front border as we roll into October. Heterotheca villosa ‘Ruth Baumgardner’ is the yellow daisy in front.

A coffee and a donut make for a nice morning stroll around the garden. Fancy people do scones and jam, but scones are crumbly, and I’d hate to waste a trail of jammy crumbles behind me as I take in the dewy garden. As I walk, the dew and change to fall colors make it really obvious summer is over and I’m surprisingly ok with that. The garden right now is a mix of summer lingerers and autumn bloomers, and although I spent last weekend leveling my mother inlaw’s garden and putting nails in the coffin of her 2020 season, here it’s a different story. Cool things like the Heterotheca villosa are only now just coming into full flower. This plant was shared with me a few years back by Kathy Purdy of Cold Climate Gardening fame, and it’s a native daisy which I cut back by half each June to keep bushy. From what I’ve heard, ‘Ruth Baumgardner’ is named after a past president of the Perennial Plant Association, and was selected as a shorter form of the species, but that’s still relatively tall, hence the early summer chop.

Lingering rebloom on the red hot poker. The bright color looks as good now as it did in July

If I weren’t so under the weather with my laziness I would be taking advantage of the more relaxed pace of pre-October and building that coldframe I’ve been mulling over for the last three weekends. Unlike the last four years that I’ve been thinking about it, this is the year it has to happen. I’ve already lined up a few plants to go in (all my projects are usually the result of me painting myself into a corner plantwise), pulled out materials, piled them into the garage (where the car can’t go until this in done…), and now I just have to commit to a design. ***spoiler alert** it’s based on an old shower door and leftover 2x4s so don’t set your hopes too high…

Admiring colchicums is an excellent lazy day activity. Here’s ‘Lilac Wonder’ flopping its way through the blue of leadwort.

Even just talking about a future coldframe has me exhausted, so let’s take one more look around the garden. The mums are coming, the colchicum are here, and in spite of a slight touch of disgustingly early frost, the garden still looks nice.

The former rock garden turned colchicum bed has been overrun with chrysanthemum seedlings. Not for the worse though. Colchicum ‘Innocence’ still found enough of an opening to show off.

A few early chrysanthemums. I’ve killed off many (honestly it’s closer to most) of the larger flowered ones, but they’re my favorites. Someday I dream of fussing and nurturing them enough to have those big show-worthy blooms, but this year just getting them staked them was a big first step.

I believe this is ‘Cheerleader’. Even under less than perfect conditions he tops out at 3+feet and requires some kind of support.

With the chrysanthemums starting in the potager I was happy to see that even with all the new beds and strict paths, there was still a nice crescendo of late summer chaos. Verbena bonariensis and ‘Hopi Red Dye’ amaranthus still found their loopholes and there’s more than just dried tomato vines and over the hill zucchini filling the beds.

An overgrown mess is what I expect in October. Fall veggies would be nice too, but there’s always the farmstand for that.

One veggie which I do want to show off is the sword bean (Canavalia gladiata) which has managed to grow up the pergola and put out a few pods in spite of the shortening days. I admit to checking it every day as the foot long pods get fatter and fatter, and if anyone gets even remotely close to the potager I insist on showing them off. At the suggestion of a friend I usually do it with a little “argh, these be my sword beans, argh”, but the magic of my humor is often met with an uncomfortably blank stare.

The sword bean. It’s grown as a vegetable through India and SE Asia but I’m not sure if it’s edible here in Umrika.

Now colchicums. I looked and saw only three pictures were posted on this blog last year, so you’re welcome, but even after I killed half the ones I transplanted during the potager construction (leaving them out to dry in 97F full sun was not really as good an idea as I thought), there are still a few nice ones to show.

Colchicum ‘The Giant’. I think this is the real thing, and it’s worth it to find.

The cooler, dry weather has made for an excellent season.

Colchicum ‘Sparticus’ was too pale for me at first, but as the single bulb has turned into a bunching of blooms I’ve become a fan

Colchicum ‘Harlekijn’. Love it or hate it you have to admit it’s unusual.

Colchicum ‘Zephyr’. The nerd in me enjoys this gathering of Cotinus, Colchicum, and Cardoon (Cynara cardunculus). That’s a lot of Cs.

Colchicum cilicium. Maybe Colchicum cilicium ‘Purpureum’ according to the most recent buzz, but regardless I really like this little guy.

Colchicum giganteum… another one which might be getting a more correct naming of Colchicum speciosum giganteum group.

‘Lilac Wonder’ in the lawn between the swingset and trampoline. I wonder if the kids will ever question why there were so many poisonous plants so close to their play areas…. although I like to think of the whole garden as their play area.

Colchicum speciosum (I don’t think it’s ‘The Giant’) in need of dividing. A whole border filled with these might not be a terrible idea… hmmmm…

I’m surprised by how many colchicums this garden has acquired. I blame thoughtful friends and the evils of social networking, but seriously if a yard full of colchicum is the worst viral pictures bring on then I’m all for it. Unfortunately that’s not always the case. In the meantime I’m looking for more, and I’m also obsessing about a new book. Colchicum: The Complete Guide has recently come out as the definitive guide on species and many cultivars and I keep thinking what’s a full on obsession without a guidebook to follow? It’s item number one on the Christmas list 😉

Bits and Pieces

Nov15

There’s a forecast for snow tomorrow, and in this little slice of near-suburbia things are absolutely not ready. The gardener has been in more of a Netflix mood rather than a slaving out in the elements mood and as a result things are more behind than usual. ‘No big deal’ he says as he dips his hand in yet another vat of overly buttered popcorn, and that pretty much sums up the last few days… except for the weekend. It was sunny yet cold, and after weeks of gloom the sun was a nice change.

Just a few more days and out with the pumpkins and in with the boughs of holly. Fyi I’m thinking of moving the arborvitae… any thoughts on that?

In between re-acquainting myself with a rain-free garden and doing all the fall cleanup in just two days I did a little poking around and tried to find a few things of interest in an otherwise dying garden.

Polystichum polyblepharum 'Japanese Tassel Fern'

Evergreen ferns look even nicer set off by the yellowed hosta foliage. This is the Japanese Tassel fern, Polystichum polyblepharum, and one of my favorites. Thick brown fur covers the newly emerging fronds, and the plant as a whole is much sturdier than you might think.

There are a few last flowers, but many didn’t hold up well to the relentless rain. The chrysanthemums are mostly washed out with the exception of a single stray seedling which snuggles up against the porch. I tolerate its sloppiness all year and then finally reap the rewards in November when its flowers open to signal the end of the season.

My last chrysanthemum.

Out along the street the front border got a clearing out so that the earliest spring flowers can have an open stage for whenever the first warm spell hits. Of course that’s code for ‘I planted more snowdrops here’, but snowdrop season comes on fast and I want to be sure I’m prepared for that at least!

The interior of the bed has been cleared out and a Rolls Royce layer of leaf mulch put down. They’re the shredded Japanese maple leaves from next door, mixed up with a good amount of lawn clippings which should be delicious for the earthworms.

Although I did do some clearing out, the bulk of my fall cleanup is just removing anything which looks overly messy, and then running the leaves over with the mower and tossing the shreddings into select beds. Whatever is left I can just refer to as winter interest and eventually get it come springtime.

Although it was one of the first plants to go when temperatures dropped, the dead stalks of the abelmoschus still look great with their fuzzy seedpods.

Honestly if I had the opportunity I would want about double the amount of leaves that I collect each fall off the lawns. Some would go into the compost, but most just gets thrown back as a winter blanket for empty vegetable beds and sleeping perennial plantings. As it is I still end up volunteering to clean out my Bil’s backyard and then robbing the woods for whatever’s been dumped back there. It’s sad how I covet my neighbor’s fallen leaves.

An Asian spicebush, Lindera glauca var. salicifolia was named as my friend’s favorite shrub and I’d have to agree. The seedlings she shared with me are finally coming along and I love the late season glow of their foliage.

It’s not all about dead leaves though. Snowdrop talk will come up more and more now that the weather is turning cold. This season I am eagerly awaiting the opening of my new snowdrop walk, and based on all the buzz already surrounding it I’m sure it will be an excellent new springtime adventure.

Just in case it’s not obvious the new snowdrop walk enters between the chrysanthemums and carries you across the bed. Most people will need to crawl if they wish to avoid a cherry branch to the forehead, but you’ll be down low looking at them anyway so why bother with a whole bunch of head-room?

In the meantime, a few hardy cyclamen line the snowdrop walk. Cyclamen hederifolium is sending up its winter foliage now and the last flowers look even better against the beautifully patterned leaves.

It appears I’ve lost a few older cyclamen plants this summer, most likely due to all the rain, but there are still plenty left surviving and multiplying.

With the snowdrop walk all prepped and waiting, it’s time to turn towards the next on again off again project.

The land beyond the fence. Years back, before the fence went up, I used to mow around a few little quaking aspen sprouts. They’ve grown since, and are now sporting some attractively bright bark color.

You may remember that my MiL lives next door, and that a few years back I was able to get a bunch of fill dumped behind her house. In the years since, I’ve managed to level and plant the half closest to her fence, but the other half still needs grading and moving. After losing all hope of someone coming and doing the job in a day or two with all the right machinery, I’ve finally decided it will be me who digs and grades and moves all the dirt that remains. My guess is that the rest of my life will be spent digging back here, but I already have a shovel and the dirt is free, so what have I got to lose?

Left side graded and planted to grass, right side still to be done. While I’m at it someone’s mentioned they’d like a screen of evergreens planted, so why not add that to the list as well….

I’ll be using the dirt to fill in some of the low spots in my own yard. It’s terrible soil and a ridiculous amount of work but I find I can only watch Netflix for so long before boredom sets in, and I do like earthmoving projects. S we’ll see how it goes. Maybe I can just rename this part of the yard ‘the gym’ and spend all the saved money on other more exciting things. Now what would that be…. snowdrops perhaps? 😉

Tuesday View: The Front Border 10.9.17

Oct12

My gardener has been extremely unmotivated these last few weeks as he comes to terms with the long stretch of hot dry weather which has settled down upon this corner of Pennsylvania. Months and months of not needing to water and not having to concern himself with pampering transplants has spoiled him, and the last month of humid, buggy, unseasonable heat has him refusing to work. As a result this week’s Tuesday view is not much changed from the last view, and other than the general air of decay setting in, there hasn’t been much of a fight put up against this end of season degeneration.

Today’s Tuesday View. Autumn is here.

The garden did get a good soaking this weekend when the latest hurricane leftovers blew through, but the humid dampness also brought the local gnat population to an electrified frenzy. Lets hope it also electrifies the gardener since all we’ve gotten out of him in the last few weeks has been a 20 minute manic attack on a relatively innocent Rose of Sharon bush (Hibiscus syriacus ‘bluebird’). It happened one overly warm afternoon, shortly after he was heard ranting something to the effect of “look at all those friggin’ seed pods, no way I’m pulling up thousands of seedlings next spring”. So out it came.

Sometimes pretty blue flowers and inoffensive green leaves just aren’t enough. The Rose of Sharon is out now, but unfortunately the branches, rootball, and garden cart still sit where the gardener left them over a week ago. Not even the threat of a Tuesday View was enough to get him moving!

Fortunately there have been a few other autumn goings on which can distract us from the local labour’s laziness and sloth. The fall bloomers are coming on in full force and the Monarch migration has reached its highpoint.

We are on the downside of the migration but Monarchs still keep fluttering on through. Aster ‘Raydon’s Favorite’ might not be the Monarch’s favorite but as far as asters go it’s mine. It tolerates drought, needs nothing from me, and flowers for weeks.

There are always a few dozen butterflies floating through the air, and as you stroll they take off and circle in a round, lazy pattern which makes you wonder how they ever manage to make it all the way to Mexico. But they do, and although it’s still on the warm side they better get a move on it. Frost is coming and the last nectar-filled flowers won’t be around forever.

Some color at the midpoint of the bed. An unknown purple mum from a years-past porch decoration and the cute little orange and yellow fruits of ‘Sedona Sun’ pepper. Each year I like ornamental peppers more and more and who knows, maybe next next spring will turn into pepperpalooza!

The last big hurrah of the front border will be the pink muhly grass (Muhlenbergia capillaris) at the far end. Most years the peak of pinkness hits only to be followed by a bleaching frost but this year my fingers are crossed for at least a few days of enjoyment. I’ll try for a better photo next week with a little late afternoon sunshine but for now you’re stuck with a little of the grass with yet another Monarch perched in front.

Monarch butterfly surrounded by the colors of autumn.

So that wraps up this Tuesday’s view, and it also signifies the beginning of the end of the 2017 season. You may have noticed that in spite of the heat I’m no longer quite as convinced that summer will never end, and I’m actually accepting that autumn is here. I guess it was inevitable, and if you’d like to see what it looks like in other parts of the world give Cathy a visit at Words and Herbs to check up on a few other Tuesday Views. I hear she is also admitting the season is winding down.

As always have a great week!

sorta like suburbia

more than you ever wanted to know about my garden

Tag Archives: autumn flowers