Late September is a keep on keeping on time for us. The gardens are still puffing away practically under their own steam and we won’t start pulling the brakes until after the house closes (Columbus Day weekend). Now’s the time for noticing.

Gail looked up in the Bosquet and noticed a bouquet. Mushrooms on a tree (in this case a Norway maple – Acer platanoides) are, unfortunately not a sign of health…

I noticed this praying mantis noticing me. (and I can’t seem to not take a picture when I spot one!)

This swallowtail caterpillar noticed only the carrot greens.

The Moongate Sophora is so laden with seedpods that if you don’t take notice, it will bean you.

One of the Rockettes noticed a praying mantis egg case in the False indigo (Baptisia australis). – Why do they choose plants we cut back?

Kari also noticed green tipped, spooned petal mutations on some Zinnia Profusion Double Pink in the North Garden. (She thinks we ought to have it patented and market it as the Blithewold Zinnia – it is that cool!)

I noticed how a Rudbeckia was deadheaded. — The first gardening job I ever had, I was given little instruction and free run on the grounds of a small school in CA. In order to fly under the radar of my boss (a tiresome and rather fatuous bump) I taught myself fairy-like subtlety and elfish stealth. — I was worried enough about doing the wrong thing that I made sure that what I did, didn’t show. Turns out, when it comes to deadheading, that’s a good thing to do! Rather than pop a deadhead off leaving a bare stick flagpole above the leaves, it’s less noticeable to make the cut at a leaf or better yet, a new bud. I like to look around the garden and see where I’ve been without being able to see where I’ve been!

What’s noticeable to you?

I can’t imagine being the kind of person who already knows it all. I spend almost every moment trying to catch up – if I’m not finding something new to know, I’m quizzing myself on what I thought I knew and being schooled again on what I’ve already forgotten. I opened my eyes in the Rock Garden this morning and saw Toad lilies (Tricyrtis hirta) that I don’t ever remember noticing there before. As a matter of fact, I read a post about them recently (can’t remember where … whoever wrote it, please send a comment and I’ll plant a link! -click here and here) and I thought (or maybe even said in a comment?) “I wonder why we don’t we have those? – Gotta put them on the list…” A new (old?) path has opened up in my brain!

And how could I forget Thistle (Onopordum acanthium) – an outstanding biennial - in the Idea Beds? (oops! Gail took one look and said “but it’s not a thistle! – It’s an artichoke.” duh. !) It took a monarch to remind me.

Speaking of biennials (plants which grow leafy the first season then bloom, set seed and die in their second season), I’ve learned a good trick for more-blooms-no-waiting. We appropriated some foxglove (Digitalis purpurea) seedlings to flower in the North Garden and Cutting Garden next year: In July we sowed seeds from the Dry Shade Bed foxglove and dug seedlings from around other mother plants by the Summer House. We grew the babies on in the greenhouse and planted most of them out in the Cutting Garden yesterday. Gail chose Cutting Garden beds with good winter drainage and we’ll move any survivors from there into new locations next spring. We’ll also plant some in the North Garden in a few weeks when we remove and divide some of the Phlox. With any luck we’ll have flowers and new biennial banks to draw from next year.

Diane, one of the Florabundas, is learning something new today too. DJ Garrity, Mt. Rushmore artist in residence, is teaching Diane and a few others how to carve stone. Over the next couple of days Diane will release the person she sees inside her block of marble (Move over Rodin!).

And what did you learn today? (By any chance, have you learned what this vining weed is??)

It’s hard to compete with a street fair, a Touch-a-Truck (“some had air horns!” said one kiddo I know), a nearby harvest festival with do-it-yourself scarecrows, a working waterfront festival a few towns over and a gorgeous warm breezy sunny day that made being out on the water requisite for anyone with access to a boat — BUT Blithewold’s Fall Gardener’s Day was where the gardeners were. I was hoping to meet fellow bloggers and readers but alas you attended incognito and in spirit – those who were here must have caught my shy bug — it’s going around… I was even going to take a guess-who shoe portrait! (If you look really closely, you can see the hazy outlines of at least a dozen pairs of feet who were nearly here – and guess who?!)

Most of my day I bounced from the Blithewold plant sale table (where I was camped to sell begonias, clivias, figs and other greenhouse babies) to the other vendors’ booths where I spent considerably more than I earned that day! I caught snippets of lectures and eavesdropped on rave reviews. By the sound of it Andrew Grossman had everyone rethinking their garden design, Lisa Gibson McMahon sent everyone home with beyond-frost salad starts and Barney Webster spawned a few water gardener wanna-bees. And everyone learned something new from flower drying and arranging, fall container planting, and pruning, to what will change for gardeners as the climate changes.

Just because Fall Gardener’s Day is behind us (and ahead – mark your 2008 calendar) doesn’t mean we’re done showing off the garden – the kaleidoscope continues! And Jake (who answers to many other names) has appointed himself cutest greeter – can you stand it?!

Chilly (almost) fall mornings have been so misty dewy lately that I get soaked to my shins just walking across the lawn. Can’t beat the quality of the light though and my morning ramble is worth every wet footed minute of the day!

As a little teaser for those who can make it to Fall Gardener’s Day tomorrow and for those who can’t, here are a few tastes of the property from my walk this morning.

Per Bright’s request, a full body shot of the pitcher plants with my pruners in for scale (Sarracenia leucophylla ‘Tarnok’, S. ‘Scarlett Belle’, and S. purpurea)

A seed pod forming on Asclepias physocarpa ‘Oscar’ (a.k.a. hairy balls – go figure).

An Aeonium in one of the new Display Garden beds – even though this isn’t at its most beautiful (it is a knockout during the winter in the greenhouse), it’s plenty gorgeous!

Near the Aeonium the stinky coleus (Coleus canina ‘Sumcol’) is budded up. This is a “touch me” plant that will leave you with a lingering eau d’ skunk. (pepe le pew! – but of course it’s one of my favorites)

I’m hoping some of my fellow bloggers and blog readers will introduce themselves to me tomorrow. On Wednesday I had the great pleasure of meeting Caroline Brown author of Earth Friendly Gardening. I’ve been enjoying her blog since before I started writing this one and I can’t wait to read what she has to say about her visit! (No pressure, Caroline!)

See some of you tomorrow and the rest of you on Monday! Happy (almost) Fall!

Yesterday’s fog cloud lifted just in time. (I suspect helpful fairies.) Long shadows, golden brights and dulcet tunes on guitar and mandolin were the stage set, backdrop and surround sound for a gorgeous evening Soiree in the Display Garden – the final one for this season (stay tuned for next year’s Soiree listings). Italian wines and cheeses were a perfect complement for a positively Tuscan light (it’s what I imagine anyhow…) and an exhuberantly abundant fall garden.

Gail and Julie and I answered questions about the gardens but the buzz on everyone’s lips was the Fairy Houses. It was the best thing to see otherwise elegant and sophisticated grown-ups go in search of a little playful magic! (Fairies are everywhere!)

In Soiree preparation we moved new combinations into the Idea Beds (placing a beautiful potted plant in a daylily hole can make the whole garden seem new again), tidied Gus-Gus’ pond, raked paths and deadheaded with the Deadheads and fine tuned with the Rockettes. Good luck follows Katherine, one of the Deadheads, who was paid the highest compliment from one of the garden’s sprites! (Magic is all around us!)

The feeling of last night lingered in the garden this morning and it looks for all the (enchanted) world like the conversations continue.