Fall is dragging its feet getting into winter and although some people and plants I know are ready for it to be cold, it couldn’t be a sweeter treat for us gardeners. We’ve been braced for bitter winds and flurries ever since the first frost (which came with bitter winds and flurries) but have been able to leave our coats on hooks and mittens in pockets for weeks now. These last few days especially have been weirdly warm but so perfect for taking in the last of the fall color seemingly stuck in a holding pattern, and catching up on outside work. Gail and I spent most of today picking more veg for the food pantry (lettuce, carrots, spinach, kale and more!) and spent yesterday in the Display Garden tidying up fallen seed heads. We still can’t quite do the final cutback: some of the plants, like nicotiana and a few salvias, haven’t quit blooming yet; others like yarrow and calendula have started up all over again.

The bees are still out foraging and there are great clots of milkweed bugs on the crispy milkweed seedpods (can they still eat the dead tissue or are they just … busy?) and they’re even on nicotiana leaves. Every year we have to look these guys up to see if they’re good, bad or indifferent. They do eat milkweed pods – and maybe nicotiana leaves? – and because of that they themselves are as safe as Monarchs from predation. (Any bird silly enough to eat one will get the throw-ups.) But we only remember spotting them at the end of the season and they don’t seem to do a lot of damage. So we left them and their plants be. The bugs pictured are adults; as instars they are smaller, shiny bright orange-red and wingless. (As always, click the pic to enlarge.)

Despite the bonus of unfrozen days, some creatures don’t seem to be finding what they need to survive winter (if it ever gets here.) Have you noticed an absence of acorns this year? We know that oaks put out extra acorns now and again as a way of insuring that some of them survive to become trees, and Gail and I remember last year as a big acorn year. This year the trees rested apparently and the squirrels are frantic. Good thing we planted tulips… If anyone has a good squirrel pilfer prevention technique to share, please do!

Are you enjoying a few extra days of mild weather too – or do you just think it’s too weird and time for a change?

There seems to be a different quality to the flowers that bloom late. I could be making this up but they seem to absorb the light more than reflect it like summer flowers do. (Don’t they?) Maybe it’s just that the lower light makes everything catch it and keep it, summer’s hanger-onner blooms included Or maybe fall flowers seem extra-special and luminous simply because they keep the season colorful for us and nutritious for the wildlife right up to the bitter cold. (Click on pictures for better view.)

Asters and Sedum ‘Autumn Joy’ have finally come into their own and the space they’ve taken up all summer is totally justified (except for the 4′ wide ones in the North Garden that bloom even later than this…)

What would we do without fall blooming grasses like purple love grass (Eragrostis spectabilis) and pink muhly grass (Muhlenbergia capillaris)? Both are natives and I know the purple love grass reseeds because I have it coming up like a puff of smoke out of a driveway crack at home. I don’t remember ever growing the mist grass before and I’m deeply in love (but can’t seem to take a decent picture of it.) Even if that doesn’t reseed (and I don’t know if it’s likely to), I’m looking forward to the clumps increasing enough to get a good shot. This year we’re going to try to winter-over purple fountain grass (Pennisetum setaceum ‘Rubrum’) down cellar. Anyone had any luck with that?

The toad lily (Tricyrtis hirta) surprises everyone, even those of us who have always been fond of it. It’s just that strange and lovely.

But strangest of all is the crabapple in bloom down at the water’s edge. We can only surmise that it is under extreme stress after being defoliated by Irene, swamped by extra high tides and subjected to wide night-temperature swings in the last couple-three weeks. Clearly it’s desperate to survive – like it always has so far in the toughest spot. Fingers crossed. There may be a new crop of apples yet for the birds…

What’s catching the light in your garden?

I have looked at these gardens so much that even though they change everyday I can hardly see them anymore. It’s not that I’m tired of the garden – far from it. I still want to witness every little change. But it’s August and my eyes have grown accustomed. – It’s just like not being able to smell the roses for more than a few minutes whenever I work in the Rose Garden.

One remedy is to see the garden through someone else’s eyes – or camera lens. I love checking out the views that captivate our visitors just in case they’ll be new to me too. Michelle from Fine Gardening magazine posted some pictures on her blog, Garden Photo of the Day, that she took during a visit to Blithewold. For me, seeing her photographs (click here and here) in a different context than I’m used to, is like getting a glimpse of a whole other garden than the one I work in every day.

Another way to refresh the senses is to leave your own garden and look at another. Gail and Lilah and I took a trip to one of our volunteer’s garden in Little Compton where the views are entrancing and the plant combinations exciting. I hope that our visit – seeing their garden through our eyes – was as helpful to Gioia as the change of scene was for us. Gioia’s – and her husband Jim’s – garden will be open on September 11 as part of the Garden Conservancy’s Open Days Program. Go on tour, if you possibly can.

Gail just got back from her two-week vacation and her enthusiasm about how the garden grew while she was gone has been energizing for me. I can see now that it changed a lot. Lilah and I did tinker with it a bit though: The Allium christoffii are blooming all over again! (Who says a gardener can’t extend the season with a little spray paint?)

Now it’s my turn to go away for a couple of weeks. I’m ready to go – the last items on my to-do-before-vacation list were to fertilize the roses one last time before their final hurrah, and write this post. Check – and check.

I wonder how different the garden will look to me, what I’ll miss seeing come into bloom and what surprises might greet me when I return… Stay tuned. (I’ll be back to fill you in the week of August 23rd.)

Can you still really see your garden or do you find a change of scene refreshing too?

We heard our first cicada today and that to me is the signal of high mid-summer. All along this season we’ve been a good two weeks ahead – starting way back with the daffodils. I hadn’t allowed myself to worry about what this might mean for August and September until I saw the daylily Hemerocallis ‘Autumn Minaret’ start to bloom yesterday. Although it’s certainly lovely, it’s an end of season sort of color. Better that it would wait and bloom with the dahlias we just planted in that bed. But gardens will grow – willy-nilly sometimes – and new combinations that we never could have imagined are always welcome, like them a lot or not. And I do like seeing Autumn Minaret with the freshly opened – and easily 4 foot tall – Echinacea ‘Envy’…

I have been meaning to do a post just on this exciting topic alone, but without further ado – and because every week should be pollinator’s week (not just last week) – drum roll, please … we have bees! Jeff from Aquidneck Honey has placed these hives of honeybees collected from local swarms down by our nursery beds. We are really enjoying watching all of their busy activity throughout the gardens.

To carry you through the weekend, just in case your plans don’t include hanging out here in Bristol for the 4th (5th) of July parade, here are some Friday photo ops from the growing Display Garden.

How does your garden grow this weekend? Does it think it’s August too?

Happy 4th – whatever month this is!

I’m no doubting Thomas but I can tell it’s spring because I’ve seen it up close, and I’ve smelled its intense sugary sweetness in the air. Spring and I were both in Zone 8 last week. Now that I’m back in Zone 6 (maybe 7) I’m reassured to know that elsewhere in the world the cherry trees are blooming and the daffodils are almost gone by. A little time away also made the changes here at home all the more obvious to me and extra precious.

Maple trees (such as red, silver and sugar) are in full bloom, forsythia and magnolias are starting to open, and leaves are emerging on all sorts of Asian introductions, earlier than everything else – just like Professor Tallamy said they would. Not only that but if it wasn’t raining quite so hard today, I’d take my first Daff Cam picture of the season because a few in the Bosquet have already started to open. Looking back at calendars and pictures from the last few years, I think it’s safe to say that this year we’re all being treated to a little spring preview. Over the last week in the greenhouse, Gail and the volunteers filled benches full of seedlings and the gunnera pushed enormous, weird flower spikes out of its mysterious tangle.

If the rain ever lightens up (we’re calling it Lake Bristol right now) I’ll take you outside. In the meantime, here’s a glimpse of the preview I was treated to at the Washington Park Arboretum and Japanese Garden in Seattle. If only there was an app for scratch-n-sniff…

What has changed in your garden over the last week or two? Is your spring sproinging or already sprung?