Almost Autumn

September 23 will be the first official day of autumn. My part of the world has not received notice just yet. The days are very warm, though cooler mornings and evenings hold promise. Weather can turn in a moment, however, so maybe day after tomorrow will bring the cool refreshing days I am longing for!

I should go back and count how many of my posts begin by talking about the weather. We gardeners are acutely tuned to climate fluctuations, and too often we are wishing for a change. I am trying to appreciate each day. This summer I have made myself walk outside even when it has been exceptionally hot and humid. (I confess I haven't always enjoyed it, and some of those strolls were short!)

Really? In truth this summer has not been exceptionally hot and humid at all. Why, June and July were quite pleasant. 

OK. But as the calendar states, it is almost autumn! I admit, despite the hot afternoons, the garden looks inviting with mellow shades of yellow and myriad shades of green in the soft September light. I am eager to drag Lou out into the garden and get things done. My list is long.

A mid-September view of the arch. Notice that the Confederate jasmine (Trachelospermum jasminoides), which we cut back almost to the ground earlier this year, is recovering nicely.

This little Japanese maple is growing near a large white pine (Pinus strobus) in the front garden. I love its golden September foliage against the blue-green of the white pine needles.

Above left: Zinnias are blooming in a pea-green pot next to Blue star Juniper. Above right: Boulevard Blue Cypress tree gets the bonsai treatment in a pot at the top of the woodland stairway.

This birdhouse is located near the main entrance to the woodland garden.It is tempting to dive into yard work, but once the sun gets up and the humidity rises, one realizes that it would be better to wait a few weeks for the benefit of plants and humans both. Sometimes it is hard to be patient, but for the most part I am content to pull a few weeds while I wander around taking photos.I like the detail in this metal arch that leads into the arbor garden. The metal is dark brown, but the light was shining on it so that parts of it seem much lighter in this photo.

Wild ageratum, also called Mist Flower, is blooming now. This is one of my favorite wildflowers. Butterflies, like this skipper, also appreciate it.

The Ageratum rambles around the Red Cascade rose, which blooms prolifically in the spring and then sporadically through the summer. It has recently put out another flush of blooms.

I finish with some more late summer images.Clockwise from top left: My Winterberry hollies (Ilex verticillata) finally have berries on them this year. They are beginning to turn orange. I moved these shrubs FOUR times before they found a happy home; My winter daphne seems to be doing well, despite its recent move into a new pot; Annual Persian Shield is flourishing; Can I brag again about my Arborvitae fern (Selaginella braunii)? I love this plant!

May you all have a blessed week, and may you find refreshment for your souls.   Deb

Cat Walk

Our cat Autumn loves the garden as much as we do, though maybe for different reasons. She dreams she is a tiger, slinking through the jungle and stalking her prey. While she stays inside most of the time, we do let her out a few hours each day so she can be a cat.Being a cat.

We no longer put up bird feeders, not wanting to give her or our resident hawks easy targets, nor wanting to encourage our pesky chipmunks to hang around. (We have an over-abundant chipmunk population. In the past they built a condominium underneath one of our bird feeders and then sent out fliers advertising its amenities, including free meals. Now a vast underground chipmunk city stretches beneath our garden.) Both the hawks and Autumn hunt chipmunks, but since she has a home and doesn't depend on her prowess for food, Autumn is likely to catch chipmunks simply for play. I watched her do this one day. She repeatedly captured and released a chipmunk just so she could chase after him. I began to feel sorry for him; but apparently she wasn't actually biting him, and in the end he got away. 

Autumn often accompanies me on my garden strolls. I call these our cat walks. We make frequent stops to gaze into space for prolonged periods. I am mentally assessing the garden, while she has her eyes on some imperceptible movement amidst the plants.Clockwise from upper left:African daisy; An old Easter lily that blooms faithfully every year; Hydrangea 'Lady in Red', named for its red stems, not its blooms; Gardenia, whose wonderful fragrance fills the woodland garden each June.I can see the tension building in Autumn's body as she stares. Then she pounces, hoping to catch a chipmunk; but not all movement is made by chipmunks. The other day a snake did not appreciate her aggression and decided to fight back. Autumn made a hasty retreat and stuck close to me for the rest of our walk. I like snakes and leave them alone, because they like to dine on chipmunks, too. I hope that with all these predators, the chipmunks will abandon the area.

The cat and I pause at the top of the steps leading down into the woodland garden.Pink gumbo azaleas are blooming across from Autumn fern. (I named Autumn after the season, not the plant, because she came to us at that time of year and also because of the autumn colors in her fur.)

Down the steps is Carex 'Everillo'.I adore this plant! It keeps getting better and better and doesn't mind Autumn's occasional nibbles.

Next is Pilea glauca, or Red Stemmed Pilea.I love how the steel blue foliage contrasts with its red stems. This is a tropical plant that will come inside for the winter.

Now we come to the weirdest plant in my garden, Amorphophallus konjac, also called Voodoo plant, Devil's Tongue, and Corpse plant. All of these names are appropriate.The spotted stems feel like human skin. The great leaf opens up like an umbrella and looks a lot like a tomato plant. I have two of these growing in pots in different parts of my garden. They are four years old. It takes about five years till they bloom, so I am looking forward to that experience next year. The blooms are giant maroon things that smell like rotting flesh.

Well! Just below the Voodoo plant is much nicer Eucomis, or Pineapple lily.I recently discovered this plant and was thrilled to learn it is hardy in my area (zone 7b/8a). It is my favorite plant of the month. It is just beginning to open its blooms.

We continue our cat walk into the woodland garden, where dark shadows and light beams play across moss covered paths.This woodland side path leads around the main planting area in the woodland garden.

Bicycle shadow in the woodland gardenThe woodland garden is a quiet place, except for the shrieking hawks who built their nest in a pine tree earlier this year. The hawk babies are out of the nest now, but the fledglings are still hanging around, while their parents teach them how to catch chipmunks. All these hawks are talking to each other. It is a hard language to listen to. I tell Autumn they are fussing at her and she had better stay close. She does.

After we leave the woodland garden, Autumn and I make our way back toward the patio. I pause to examine the Confederate Jasmine growing on the new arch.Look on the left side of the arch, and you can see the recovering jasmine vine.The jasmine was severely damaged by winter freezes this year, and we cut it back nearly to the ground and took the opportunity to replace the old dilapidated arch. I miss the mass of jasmine that covered the old arch, but the vine is putting out lots of new growth. A new jasmine vine on the other side of the arch is also growing quickly, so I think by next year they will meet in the middle atop the arch.  

The cat walk is over, and Autumn and I head into the house. Autumn curls up for a nap. In her dreams she is a mighty tiger on the prowl, and the chipmunks don't stand a chance.

You may also enjoy these previous posts:

Under the Spell of the Voodoo Plant 

A Cat Tale

The Cat is Back

Confederate Jasmine For a Fragrant Layer in the Garden