November Woodland 2017

Last night a stiff wind blew for hours. I could hear it gusting as I lay in bed, and all I could think of was all the leaves being swept to earth. It has been a disappointing autumn, as far as fall foliage goes. Colors have gone from summer green to murky tints of gold and red to brown and on the ground...in days! This morning was very chilly with a sharp, clear sky. For the first time I felt the breath of winter as I gazed at the tide of leaves drifting over the garden. It is the price we pay for living amidst towering trees. 

Here are some images I took in the woodland garden this past week. Lou had just raked leaves off the moss paths. Ha! He has much more to do now! It is important to keep the moss paths clear of leaves and other debris. Moss does not need earth to grow, but it does need air.

Japanese maple 'Waterfall'

Clockwise from top left: Persimmon 'Tamopan'; Mahonia 'Soft Caress'; Camellia 'Leslie Ann'; Witch Hazel - I planted this years ago, and it has finally bloomed!

Finally, a view across the lower front lawn toward a natural, undeveloped wooded area. It was once brimming with dogwood trees. Sadly, drought, disease, and old age have taken their toll through the years. The trees with the red leaves are my remaining dogwoods. Oaks and hickories are the larger trees with gold and brown leaves:

Autumn's Parting Gift

Autumn gave us a parting gift after another inch or two of rain and temperatures that plummeted into the frigid range. Wearing my warmest coat, I walked outside and then stopped in my tracks when I saw a blanket of colorful Japanese maple leaves on the path in the front garden.

I would have noticed a few lovely fallen leaves, but this EXUBERANCE took my breath away. 

Forget for a moment that someone is going to have to rake not only the paths but also the shrubs. (That would be Lou. I think raking has become his favorite pastime, and I praise the great job he is doing.)

The sheer mass of red leaves makes me remember another path - one covered in cherry blossoms. I think of great swaths of daffodils, a desert carpeted in wildflowers, a trail edged with clouds of blue woodland phlox, an orchard of row upon row of olive trees: all sights that stay with me because of the magnitude of their elements. 

Nature reminds me that beautiful gardens are not timid. They don't have to be big, but they must have commitment. OK, a hundred garish gnomes are not for me, but surely they would make a child smile! And that is more than some gardens accomplish.