A few of my favorite things ….

Mahonia ‘Winter Sun’

I get excited about new plants. A lot!

I’m intrigued by the latest and largest, the newest color of this or that, and any new cross or hybrid of one of my old favorites. My wife will tell you that I buy one of each, but that’s not strictly true, sometimes it’s more.

Then, after a year in the garden the newcomers are still loved, but the passion has subsided, the heat has cooled to a simmer.

With exceptions. ‘Winter Sun’ mahonia (Mahonia x media ‘Winter Sun’, in bloom below) is one of those.

My ramblings through the garden always include a stop at one of the many mahonias to check out what’s happening that day. The compact (for a mahonia) growth habit and dark green, spiny evergreen leaves are nice enough, though I’ve cursed ‘Winter Sun’ a time or two stepping on a dead leaf when barefooting through the garden.

I’m probably too easily entertained, but I never tire of the unfurling of Winter Sun’s new foliage (above), like an alien creature spreading its menacing tentacles.

Odder still, from a scaly terminal bud, in early fall it appears that pink tinged worms emerge from their nest (above), then elongate (below), before developing into erect racemes of fragrant yellow flowers in late November. The progression is a delight that occupies many hours when I should be raking leaves, or generally being productive doing something else.

The wife grew weary long ago of racing to see what-was-the-matter when I ran to tell her of the latest goings-on. Clearly, she has little appreciation for natural wonders.

And so, enough far-fetched tales and wide-eyed enthusiasm.

‘Winter Sun’ goes through several periods of growth mid-spring through summer, and so it grows fairly rapidly, for a shrub, that is. Other mahonias tend to flop about in this direction and that, very irregular in form, but ‘Winter Sun’ is more compact, though it grows taller than the more common Oregon Grapeholly (Mahonia aquifolium) or Leatherleaf Mahonia (Mahonia beali).

In my garden the ‘Winter Sun’ planted in a sunnier spot has grown past six feet, and presumably will require some future pruning to keep it within bounds. The fierce spines determine that this be done with a long handled lopper to avoid the inevitable puncture wounds and loss of blood.

In rather deep shade, in an area competing with shallow red maple and tulip poplar roots, ‘Winter Sun’ grows more slowly, and perhaps more compactly. In my experience the mahonias are untroubled by pests, and are particularly resistant to injury from deer.

I have witnessed small purple grape-like fruits on ‘Winter Sun’ in the nursery in late winter, but never on the plants in my garden, probably because birds pluck them when there are few other fresh fruits to choose from. In any case, the fruits on Mahonia beali and aquifolium are larger and more prominent, so if you are determined to grow a mahonia for fruit, then ’Winter Sun’ is not your best choice. If this is your preference, I would advise growing all three, for it would be foolish to be without ‘Winter Sun’.

Flowers in late November

Instead of leaves I see houses in the distance, the last of the blazing orange Japanese maples were stripped in the wind and rain earlier in the week. Wet leaves are ankle-deep in the garden, and I bemoan the drab winter ahead with the red berries of hollies (below) and nandinas the only bright colors.

This has been a good year, wet seasons in spring and autumn sandwiching a dry late summer have provided ideal conditions for growth and blooming. A sub-freezing night ten days past ended the late flowering of toad lilies, windflowers, and sunflowers, and killed the above ground growth on most of the perennials.

The Encore azaleas had weathered  repeated frosts through late October and early November at peak bloom, but below thirty degrees the flowers melted. Without extreme nighttime lows since, the numerous remaining buds have begun to open, and though the azaleas will bloom only sporadically, their color is welcomed.

The Encore variety Autumn Amethyst (above) withstood the cold better than others, but Autumn Princess and Autumn Rouge have scattered blooms and buds that will continue to open until the next hard freeze. With the next cold spell their flowering will end until late April in this northern Virginia garden.

The fall blooming Camellias weren’t bothered at all by the cold, and Snow Flurry (the white double flower below), Chansonette (above), and Winter Star (below) will flower into December. Winter’s Interlude will not begin to bloom for several weeks, but then buds will open intermittently in warmer periods through the winter.

I have learned my lesson with camellias (after twenty years), and have prepared to spray a winter formulation of deer repellent to protect their evergreen foliage. Perhaps the taller shrubs will regain leaves lower than four feet next spring. The leaves don’t appear to be very tasty, and deer don’t bother them, or the arborvitae, hollies, cypress, and azaleas, until the more choice and succulent hostas and hydrangeas have died back for the season.

The sharp spines of mahonias protect its glossy evergreen leaves from deer, and now Winter Sun (below) is approaching full bloom. Of the handful of mahonias I grow, this has become a favorite for its neat, compact habit and bright yellow, late fall flowers. On occasion the flowers will be followed by small grape-like fruits, but the fruits are either not so numerous as the spring blooming Mahonia beali, or the birds grab them before I have the opportunity to see them.

The Knockout roses, pink and red (below), continue to bloom, though the flowers are more ragged than in warmer times. The edges of each bloom are injured and misshapen, but from a distance, even from a few paces away, the damage is not evident. The yellow Knockout quit blooming weeks ago. I don’t know if this variety will be  early to quit in autumn, or if the lack of blooms is due to its relatively new planting.

So, there will be more color than just berries to enjoy for several weeks longer.

To do, today and tomorrow

Don’t bother me, I’m busy! There’s no time to visit, no guests permitted. Not until the leaves are raked, chopped, hauled, and piled in the compost heap.

The dahlias, cannas, and elephant ears have been dug, cleaned, dried, and now must be bagged with dry leaves and set on shelves in the garage nearest the house to prevent their freezing. This is an easy one.

A forest of maples and poplars borders this one acre garden to the southeast. Beech and birch, katsura and ginkgo, black gum, cherry, dogwood, and Japanese maples small and large planted over twenty years drop a sufficient number of leaves to keep the gardener occupied for some weeks to come.

The driveway and  front walk were cleared first, then a path was made from the deck to the two stone patios, crossing the divide between stone slabs that bridge the upper pond, and then down stone steps to the lower patio. I have walked this path thousands of times, but nearly stepped into the pond and tumbled down the leaf covered steps in the past week.

Leaves from the paths have been shredded, then bagged and hauled to the nearly full open air compost bins. Much of the garden remains leaf covered, and though these will be chopped and left in place to compost, this chore will consume my daylight hours for the next week or two. Then, there will be time to rest.

The remnants of the late season hurricane that swept through over three days this past week has made leaf clean up more challenging. When leaves are dry they are raked and chopped with relative ease. Wet leaves mat down and clog the shredder, so the task has been made more time consuming.

I’ll try to keep a positive attitude, but leaf clean up feels more like work, and less like gardening.

Blooming, in November?

A blast of sub-freezing temperatures late last week ruined the flowers of toad lilies, Encore Fall blooming azaleas, and roses. The azaleas and roses have numerous unopened buds that were tightly wrapped, and thus insulated from the freeze. If the weather stays mild, if nighttime lows don’t drop too far into the low-thirties, then we’ll have more blooms. I’m betting we will.

Not all flowers in the garden were injured. The ‘Chansonette’ Autumn blooming camellia (Camellia sasanqua ‘Chansonette’, above) escaped injury, and the hybrid ‘Winter Star’ (below) has multiple blooms, which will continue weeks longer. Deer have nibbled my camellias into feeble form in recent Winters, but since I’ve begun to spray a repellent regularly I expect them to revive.

I prefer the Autumn blooming Sasanquas and hybrids from the National Arboretum introductions. The buds of Winter flowering types are often injured by freezing temperatures, regardless of the hardiness of the plant, and the April flowering varieties compete with so many other Spring flowers.

How can you resist a lush, dark green evergreen shrub loaded with flowers in northern Virginia in the middle of November? You can’t and you shouldn’t, and now that we have concluded that you must add a camellia or three to your garden in April, we’ll move on to other parts of the garden.

While deer might terrorize the camellias, I can say with certainty that they will steer clear of Mahonia ‘Winter Sun’ (above). The spiny leaf margins will draw blood if you’re not careful, but there are many reasons to include this November blooming evergreen in your garden.

Winter Sun grows more compactly than other shrub forms of mahonia, and is happy in full sun or shade, though it will grow more vigorously in sun. I make a point to visit the handful of mahonias I have scattered through the garden to see the colorful and unusual growth buds unfurl, and the bright yellow blooms often persist well into December.      

The common Beautyberry (Callicarpa americana and Callicarpa dichotoma) blooms modestly in mid Summer, followed by masses of delightful purple berries, or drupes, late Summer into December. Beautyberry is a coarse textured shrub not worthy of much attention until it flowers, then is one of the star attractions of the late season garden. My garden has the white berried variety (above), which is no better than the purple, but equally showy.  

In recent weeks we’ve featured the Autumn leaf colors of trees in the garden, but none are more attractive than Oakleaf hydrangea (Hydrangea quercifolia, below). The huge, faded flowering pannicles remain, but the deep purple-red leaves persist weeks after the leaves of trees have fallen.

Today, the remnants of this late season hurricane are passing, so I’ll allow the fallen leaves that cover the garden to dry for a few days, sooner if the sun comes out tomorrow. There is plenty to do, raking and shredding leaves, hauling to the compost pile, but with a forecast of above average temperatures I’ll be watching for new blooms.

Blooming today, mush tomorrow

At zero degrees Celsius (thirty two degrees Fahrenheit) and below, intracellular freezing causes membrane damage and leakage of cellular contents. Or something like that.

My slightly less technical explanation, one day you have flowers in the garden, the next mush.

On this November weekend the trees are bare in this northern Virginia garden, but a few days earlier there were flowers, quite a few. The Toad lilies (Tricyrtis, above) that were pinched back in mid-Summer bloomed several weeks later than the others, and were in full splendor until two days ago. Despite today’s warmer weather they are quickly browning.

Autumn crocus (Colchicum, above) have been blooming for several weeks, and though the flowers suffered little damage in the late week sub-freezing temperatures, the stems have lost rigidity and droop towards the soil.

Encore azaleas (above and below) have been blooming since late September, a bit later this Autumn than normal with clouds and rainy weather, but their floral show has been a delight since. Numerous unopened buds remain, and still could flower if temperatures moderate.

With an acre of garden, twenty or more trees I’ve planted, and forest on the property’s border, clean up over the coming weeks is a considerable task. Some of the fallen leaves will be raked onto the lawn, then shredded by the mower and left. In garden areas not adjacent to lawn, leaves will be shredded and left as mulch, and others hauled to the compost pile.   

Even fallen, many leaves are quite spectacular on the ground. The huge leaves of the Big Leaf magnolia (Magnolia macrophylla, above) are large and leathery enough (almost two feet long) to choke the mower passing over them. After a few weeks they will curl and become brittle, much easier to clean up, though still too large for the leaf shredder.

The yellow leaves of ‘Autumn Gold’ ginkgo (Ginkgo biloba) are as vibrant on the ground as on the tree a few days ago. Once the leaves begin to fall, they do so suddenly, falling overnight.

And now there are neighbors, houses can be seen through the trees. I’m never prepared for this, though thankfully there are wonders that stand out in the late Autumn and Winter gardens to keep me going until March.

Later in the week we’ll show some of the flowers in the garden that take the early frosts and freezes in stride. Several will bloom into December. And then there are berries, and interesting buds and bark.

Autumn colors – Japanese maples

I didn’t plant Japanese maples in my garden for their Autumn foliage color, but many are notable for their brilliant and varied hues. In fact, I believe that the most spectacular leaves in the garden are from the Full Moon, or Fern Leaf maple (Acer japonicum ‘Aconitifolium’, two photos below). From every angle you walk around Fern Leaf maple there are varying colors, almost red to a mottling of red and yellow. For weeks, the tree is breathtaking.

I will admit that I did consider the Fall foliage when I chose to plant this maple. Spring through late Summer this small tree is unspectacular, though interesting, with a low branched, wide spreading, oval shape, and deeply cut green leaves. Nice enough, but perhaps not warranting prime positioning in the garden. But in October, look out!

I searched for a Golden Full Moon maple (Acer shirasawanum ‘Aureum’, below) for years until I found one in Oregon in a field of Japanese maples recovering from scrapes and scars, broken branches and Winter dieback. I had left a spot vacant in the garden, sunny, but protected from the late day sun, waiting with hope that I would find one.

I wanted this slow growing tree as a focal point, to display the bright golden leaves that shine on the gloomiest day. I didn’t give a thought to its Fall color, but here it is, nearly the equal of the Fern Leaf, though the leaves fall much earlier.

The deeply dissected green leaves of Seriyu maple (Acer palmatum ‘Seriyu’, above) turn later in the season, possibly because the two large trees are sheltered close to the shady east side of the house. The leaves will hold on the trees days after others have fallen, then seem to drop in an instant.

Even at this late date the leaves of a few Japanese maples in the garden have not turned yet. My recall is fuzzy, but I think they might be worth waiting for. When I see their Fall colors you’ll be the first to know, and I expect that later in the week we’ll get back around to some of the blooms that are still going strong in early November.

 

The grand finale

Every year in the garden is odd in some manner, and probably most years are unusual in many respects. Though friends and neighbors might declare the weather for a season to be “normal”, there are in fact variations that determine that unpredictability in the garden is to be expected.

I say with relative certainty that the native dogwood (Cornus florida ‘Rubrum’, above) will begin to bloom in mid April, but I’m not surprised when it blooms a week earlier or two weeks later, or even if those in my garden flower a week later than my neighbor’s. The timing of leaves coloring in Autumn is similarly imprecise, but more so.

In the mid-Atlantic region our first frost arrives as early as late September or as late as the end of October. This year dry weather in August and early September forced birch and ash to defoliate earlier than normal, and cool and wet , but not cold, conditions since have slowed leave’s changing colors. Or not. A few miles further than my daily drive the opposite could be true, so expect nature to act naturally, unpredictably.

Though I’ve nearly run out of space, I love planting trees, and advise considering trees first when planning a garden, then hardscapes such as patios and walks, prior to figuring the small stuff. The shrubs, perennials, and flowering bulbs easily fall in place once the bones are set. But which trees are best? Is Autumn foliage color a worthwhile consideration in selecting a tree?

Today we’ll explore some of the trees in the garden with notable foliage color, and  a few from the neighborhood. What we won’t show are the red leafed cultivars of Red maple (Acer rubrum), simply because you’ve already seen plenty in your neighbors’ landscapes and maybe your own. They’re a fine tree, fast growing, and quite nice when the leaves turn, but we need more diversity in our gardens, not more maples. We will make an allowance to slip in a Sugar maple (Acer saccharum, above), and of course we can’t do without Japanese maples for their wonderful attributes, including colorful leaves in Autumn.

The long, wooded southeast border of my garden is mostly native red maples (also called swamp maple) and Tulip poplars, and neither has Fall color worth mentioning (sickly yellow is an apt description). With an overabundance of maples I chose several cultivars of European beech (Fagus sylvatica, above), Black Gum (Nyssa sylvatica), Ginkgo (Ginkgo biloba, below)), and Katsura (Cercidiphyllum japonicum) for the large trees in the garden, and a bunch of smaller trees, some with excellent foliage color, others not.

The Franklin Tree (Franklinia alatamaha, below) blooms from August into late September, and some years the foliage will turn early enough to be a delightful backdrop for the last of the white, camellia-like flowers. Not this year, but the blooms and Autumn foliage colors are long lasting, and remarkable. Franklinia is not often found in nurseries, I suppose because it is difficult to transplant, but worth searching for from specialty mail order growers.

Japanese Stewartia (Stewartia psuedocamellia, below) is slow to become established, but after a handful of years this small tree in my garden has begun to grow with more vigor, enough that the long branching bent under the weight of the flower buds. The blooms are quite similar to the Franklin Tree, but the flowering season is not so long.

‘Satomi’ dogwood (Cornus kousa ‘Satomi’, below) is a pink flowering Kousa dogwood, blooming in mid May to early June, well after our native dogwood. The leaves of Satomi are broader and glossier than other dogwoods, and the mottled Fall color is of particular interest on my strolls through the garden.

Cherokee Princess dogwood (Cornus florida ‘Cherokee Princess’, below) is a vigorous selection of our native dogwood, though more disease resistant than the native. It is just as beautiful, with white blooms before leaves develop, excellent Fall color, and red berries that often persist through the Winter.

Sioux (Lagestromia ‘Sioux’ below) is my favorite of the crapemyrtles, with excellent dark green leaves and long lasting pink pannicles in mid Summer, but also outstanding Autumn foliage color.

Later in the week we’ll see the Japanese maples that are nearly as spectacular in their Fall coloring as they are unique in leaf shape, and somewhere we’ll squeeze in some of the flowers that persist through the early frosts into November.

The garden pond in Autumn

I woke Saturday morning to driving rain, then a windy pause, followed by leaves raining from red maples in the forest at the border of the garden. I had been watching closely, I thought, for the turning of the the leaves so I could cover the ponds with netting, but I guess I wasn’t attentive enough.

This is a sad day, covering the ponds seems to close the garden for the season. The tropicals, bananas and elephant ears, have been transplanted into large tubs and hauled to the basement for the Winter. Most of the perennials are fading, so the garden surrounding the ponds is taking on a Winter-look. Too soon!

A few elephant ears with huge green leaves  have been left until frost kills the tops, then the roots will be dug and stored in bags of dried, shredded leaves in the garage. There are too many and they are too large, and there are too few windows to provide enough sunlight to overwinter all in pots. Dahlias and cannas will get the same treatment. A few will probably rot, or dry out, but most will survive to be planted out after the threat of frost is past in May.

The rain persisted through late afternoon, so I was able only to cover the swimming pond before dark. This 1,600 square foot pond contains nearly 25,000 gallons of water, and I intend never to drain it for cleaning, so the priority was to cover it before leaves sank to the bottom. I was able to scoop some with a long handled net, and the pond skimmer captured others, so disaster was averted.

The swimming pond is nearly forty feet wide and a bit longer, and the lightweight nets will submerge once covered with leaves if not supported by cables. Steel rods are driven into the ground at pond’s edge, then plastic covered cables (the kind used for tieing up dogs) are strung and tightened to hover a foot or more above the water’s surface. The netting (a special ordered size of the same long lasting nylon netting used as deer fencing) is stretched tautly and anchored with stones at the edges.

Covering this large pond can be quite an adventure. Wet boulders and awkward footing, and the huge, tangled net, make the task more treacherous, with more than a few slips and close calls, but I avoided taking a swim in the cool water. The koi didn’t seem to notice. Since we quit feeding them early in the month, they have settled for swimming deeper in the pond, and showed little interest in my pratfalls.

The smaller ponds, and the long stream, were covered on Sunday, a dry, sunny day, with far less trouble. Even with assistance from the wife, stretching nets over the ponds and under the overhanging weeping Atlas cedar and Japanese maple entails a dunking or two, and squishing around in wet boots and socks for an hour.

I will leave the waterfalls running through the Winter. In the mid-Atlantic area we rarely have more than a week without temperatures rising above freezing, so ponds don’t freeze enough to require turning pumps off. In the worst case, waterfalls freeze and water is pumped over the edge of the liner and out of the pond until the pump runs dry. In my ponds that is a drop of only four or five inches due to the skimmer enclosure, not running the entire pond dry, so not a tragedy.

And now this unpleasant task is complete, the ponds are covered as the leaves are falling. The wet socks haved been laundered. The boots were left on the driveway for the sun to dry, and now a second storm has soaked them. With good fortune they’ll dry by the time the nets are to be removed in March.

That’s the way the world goes ’round

We’ve hired a fellow to rid our attic of squirrels. The pesky tree rats have chewed through wires, destroyed a heat pump something-or-other, and are generally making a nuisance of themselves. Thus far, a skunk and possum have been captured in the live traps, but no squirrels.

There is plenty of space on this property for wildlife, but the house is off limits to all but the wife and I, perhaps a few dozen mice, and, oh my, not to forget the crickets. The gentleman asked if we wanted our skunk and possum back, and of course they are welcome to return.

I rarely see critters in the garden by daylight, though needless to say there are squirrels and possums, birds, rabbits, frogs and toads, an occasional small snake, dragonflies, a fox from time to time, and the groundhog who lived under the shed for a few years and ravaged the neighbor’s vegetable garden. I walked upon and startled him drinking from the ponds several times. You can’t imagine how quickly these portly little critters can move.

Our groundhog departed this Spring, but did no damage during his stay that I can see. The hole under the shed and another conveniently located several feet from the now abandoned vegetable garden were easily filled. No doubt my neighbor has a different attitude regarding his departure.

I rarely see the deer who bed down no more than twenty paces from the house in a thicket of willow and mulberry, but there are tracks in damp ground throughout the garden, and if I was not to remain vigilant in spraying the repellent there would be considerable evidence of injury to the hostas and hydrangeas.

In this early Autumn the small back lawn has been pockmarked with holes from an animal, I assume a raccoon, foraging for grubs, which I’m certain are plentiful. I suppose the culprit could be our captured skunk, also.

If our smelly little friend has been relocated far from home I’d be surprised if another doesn’t resume where he left off in destroying the lawn. Grubs or skunks, I don’t know which is better, or worse, though we see neither, and the lawn was no prize in any case.

A section of grass behind the swimming pond has been wrecked, worse than the rest. It looks like a herd of buffalo stampeded through, but I’m quite certain we have no buffalo.

The ground in this area stayed damp, perhaps a perfect habitat for grubs. I suppose the lawn will return in the Spring, though I’ve warned the wife that it would be a shame if it didn’t and must be converted to garden.

Fortunately, buffalo have steered clear of the garden!

With October frost the leaves are turning, others falling, the berries of hollies are beginning to redden, but an abundance of blooms remains.

The Joe Pye Weed ‘Chocolate’ (above) has been flowering for weeks. They are scattered through the garden, all grown from windblown seed. Many seedlings have been pulled as weeds when they sprouted in unwanted locations, but I’m happy to have the volunteers that have been allowed to stay. Chocolate is medium height and compact compared to other Joe Pye varieties that grow four feet or more, and the dark foliage makes the white blooms stand out.

The Japanese Windflowers (Anemone) continue to bloom, both the single pink ‘September Charm’, and the single and double whites ‘Whirlwind’ (above) and ‘Honorine Jobert’. With recent mild temperatures the remaining buds might flower several weeks longer.

The groundcover Sedum (above) with grayish rounded foliage is blooming now. This sedum was provided a most unfortunate spot between small boulders that border a stone patio. It seems the narrow garden bed between the patio and lawn is a perfect point to cut through, in particular when carrying sticks to the firepit, with the sedum too brittle to withstand this foot traffic. Beyond the stampeding of clumsy humans, the sedum is quite tough and dependable.

Today thunder and tropical rain are stripping trees bare in short order. Only a  handful of days earlier the maples had little color, and only ash, birch, and a stray tree or two had dropped a significant number of leaves. I fear that I have delayed too long in putting the nets over the ponds, but the storms will have ended tomorrow, so they’ll go on nonetheless. We’ll cover this topic later in the week.

Flowers in late-October

Perhaps it’s too early to be late in the month, but that’s really not the point. There are flowers in the garden, lots of them, and this is Virginia in October, northern Virginia, closer to the mountains than the shelter of the city.

Nighttime lows have fallen into the mid thirties, and there are not so many flowers as any day in April or May, or July for that matter, but I planned for an Autumn blooming garden, and I can’t help but be pleased.

The remontant (reblooming on new growth) hydrangeas, Penny Mac (above) and Endless Summer, have been flowering since late May, though they slow down in the heat of Summer. There are numerous buds remaining, but those will not develop fully with cold temperatures.

The pink and red Knockout roses (pink, above) began blooming in May and often continue until Thanksgiving. A year ago, freezing weather halted their flowering by the tenth of November, but other years I’ve had a few flowers remaining in early December.

Though the temperatures are too chilly to wade into the swimming pond, I regularly visit the koi and enjoy the colorful red calyx of the nearby Seven Sons Tree (Heptacodium miconiodes, above). Clusters of small white flowers appeared in early August, so the tree will be a highlight of the mid Summer and early Autumn gardens.

The Encore azaleas (above and below) are blooming, not as heavily as October a year ago, but with splashes of color, and many more buds to open if the warmer weather predicted for the coming week arrives. This is the second season for the Encores to bloom in the mid-Atlantic, and the number of blooms often rivals the Spring. 

On visits to the Gulf coast in early December they are often in full bloom, which I’m told can stretch until after the new year. The Encores then flower off and on from early Spring into Summer and Autumn deeper in the South, but the later Spring bloom in Virginia does not give sufficient time to reset buds for a Summer bloom.

A delightful long blooming fuchsia, ‘Angels’ Earrings’ (above), is marginally hardy, but requires greenhouse-like humidity to over Winter indoors, so it will have a go of it in the garden. This fuchsia is mounding, not weeping, but the blossoms are so low that I’ll have to move it to cascade over one of the stone walls to show them off properly. Other fuchsias in the garden are quite hardy, but not so beautiful as this.

There are several Peruvian lilies (Alstromeria, above) in the garden, some hardy, others marginal in this climate. All have bloomed from late Spring through today, though there was a period during mid Summer when the foliage melts in the heat and the plant nearly disappears.

Other perennials save their floral show for the end of the season. The Japanese Windflower (Anemone, above) has single or double white or pink blooms that stand on long stems that wave in the October  breezes.

Taller still, and in bloom, are the perennial sunflowers (Helianthus, now beginning to fade) and Tatarian Daisy (Aster tataricus, above) that has many buds that will flower over the next several weeks.

The taller Toad Lilies (Tricyrtis, above and below) that were growing in almost full sun have few flowers remaining, and fewer buds, but the plants that had been pinched back through mid Summer have many buds still to flower. The early cold does not seem to trouble them, so I look forward to more weeks of bloom from this carefree, easy to grow perennial.

On this frosty October eve there are other bloomers that space will not allow. Several Sedums, Joe Pye Weed, and several Autumn Crocus (Colchicum autumnale) will flower until we get back later in the week.