Garden Bloggers Bloom Day (hosted by Carol at May Dreams Gardens) is the best excuse I can think of to show off some of my favorite weirdos. I know my cup of tea isn’t to everyone’s taste. For one thing, I tend to gravitate towards anything with nearly invisible green flowers like crazy-cool petal-less Boltonia ‘Nallie’s Lime Dot’ (below). It comes into bloom-ish in early September and is supposed to be about 4′ tall. Ours grew taller and then probably because it was shaded by our new dawn redwood hedge, flopped right over to hang with an aster. It holds up really well in arrangements so I’ll probably vote to move to a sunnier spot in the cutting garden. I also adore little Nicotiana ‘Delaware Indian Sacred’ (right) obviously because it’s green but also because it seeds itself around and is in bloom in one place or another all season long.

And ’tis the season to love the seedheads. They may look gone-by to some but I prefer the black knobs of rudbeckia sans petals. And aren’t teasel and cardoon at any stage wildly wonderful?

There’s probably nothing weirder than Amaranthus ‘Dreadlocks’ full stop.

And every late-summer/fall I rediscover cuphea. (Who doesn’t?) Suddenly though I’m head-over-heels for a cuphea that probably nobody else here has noticed.  Cuphea ‘Ballistic’ is a tiny little plant with mouse faces that ended up tucked under a whole bunch of other stuff (mostly other cupheas) in the kid’s bed. I vow to put them somewhere front and center next year and took a bunch of cuttings yesterday for insurance.

Speaking of taking cuttings, the speed of the season took us by surprise. (How did it get to be mid-September already?!) We usually start taking cuttings in late August/early September but have only now begun in earnest. If the same thing happened to you and those beautiful cut-able tips that emerge in late summer have since grown and flowered, cut your plants back in a few places to encourage new growth and check again in a couple of weeks.

What’s weird or wonderful in your garden right now? When did you start taking cuttings?

I think it might be safe to say that we’ve been even busier than bees in the last couple of days. And by “we” I mostly mean the garden volunteers. Gail, Tara and I placed … must be hundreds! of annuals and tender perennials in the Cutting Garden; a few more in the big Display Garden bed; over a hundred in the North Garden; a baker’s dozen in the Rock Garden; and Dick and Cathy placed dozens of tomatoes in the vegetable bed. And almost faster than we (by “we” I mean Gail, Tara and I) could say “please”, they were planted, fertilized (we use Espoma Bulb-Tone, which is a slow-release granular organic fertilizer with a ratio heavy on phosphorus) and watered.

Even though we (Gail, Tara and I) have been working hard to stay one step ahead of the volunteers – I couldn’t even catch a moment to take pictures as they took the tulips out last week – I’ve found that it’s actually absolutely imperative to pause now and again to take in the changes. The other day I almost couldn’t help but stop for Virginia waterleaf (Hydrophyllum virginianum) blooming in the Bosquet: evidently they have never bloomed so abundantly because neither Gail nor I had felt the need to learn its name before. I also don’t ever remember detouring to take in the stunning contrast of flower-like samaras are on the full-moon Japanese maple (Acer shirasawanum ‘Aureum’). And even if we hadn’t had to get to the Rose Garden to place more plants (another 100 plus for tomorrow’s crew) I would have made a special trip to see the Chestnut rose (Rosa roxburghii) and my all-time favorite weird peony (Paeonia ‘Alley Cat’) in full bloom. (Click on pictures for a better view.)

Are you in a planting frenzy in your garden too? And taking time out too, to take it all in?

Punxatawney Phil didn’t see his shadow the other day and we all know that means spring is right around the corner. (Wahoo!) Gail and I are definitely feeling winter suddenly pick up speed and are switching gears and counting the milestones.

Now that we’ve sent in the seed orders we can turn our divided attention back to the plants. (Our attention is always divided, or so it feels. Right now we’re being pulled away to meetings, seminars, trade shows, etc – all good stuff! – but what we wouldn’t give for a week of blank days…) I already mentioned in the last post that the plants in the greenhouse are starting to put on new growth – and you know me with the new growth – I’m captivated by it. For some plants – our tender perennials in particular, new growth showing means it’s high time to cut the plants back. There are a couple of reasons we do this: one is, if we didn’t the plants would be leggy and weird next season. Cutting them back also encourages a big push of new growth, which we use for cuttings and we’ll start those around the end of this month.  (We’re old school in the way we make new plants too – no tissue culture for us. I suspect in this case, most gardeners continue to do as we do too.) We’re still enjoying the flowers and seed heads on some but when it’s time, it’s time. They’ll be blooming stupendously again before we know it.

Are you wintering over any tender perennials? Which ones? Have you cut them back yet?

This morning a fellow dog walker said to me, “Ugh – this rain is horrible!” To which I replied, “yeah… but we need it.” She looked at me a little sideways. And to myself I said, “Are you kidding me? This is GREAT!” My dog was as muddy as hers and I couldn’t see past the drops on my glasses but gardeners are a breed of human that take the bad with the good. And rain? It’s a good thing! Especially in the dusty wake of a drought. “Some days must be dark and dreary”*. — It’s about time. And it’s part of what I love about October. Nothing sets off the colors of fall like a fine mist on a gray day.

It is a heavy rain today giving us a welcome chance to catch up on greenhouse work and to hash out our annual assessments of the gardens. We’ve worked out a schedule for October and provided it doesn’t rain the entire month (and of course, we need it to) we’ll start taking the gardens apart to make way for projects.

We’ve already started to bring in stock plants – tender perennials from which we’ll take more cuttings – and we hope to have all of the container plants in the greenhouse by the end of next week. It might kill us to do it, but Gail and I will also harden our hearts to take annuals – still in glorious bloom – out of the North and Rose Gardens next week, right after the house closes for the season. (Remember, Columbus Day is last day to see the house before Christmas – and all of the gardens in full glory, come to think of it.) The week after that we hope to turn a load of compost in to the starved Rose Garden. And we’ve got to play musical perennials in the North Garden – the lady’s mantle (Alchemilla mollis) needs dividing (it’s been 3 years and the plants are huge) and to be moved back to keep the flowers from blurring the garden’s ultra-crisp edges. And we have to do all of that of course before we plant the tulips, which we have to do before we lose our volunteers for the season. Whether a little rain, or a lot of rain falls in this life, we have a schedule to keep.

What are your plans for October? Is it raining?

*quote and post title from a poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

It almost looks like we could ride this heat wave straight into fall. The Tupelo (Nyssa sylvatica) have been dropping bright red tokens since mid-July; the scent of ripe grapes hovers on whatever little breeze we can catch; the autumn crocus (Colchicum autumnale) are emerging from the ivy (a good 2 weeks earlier than last year); the dreaded schoolbus yellow is not only present in the gardens (black and brown-eyed Susans have been blooming since mid-July) but is suddenly on our roads too. While part of me is crying uncle! because of this summer’s relentless heat, the other part of me is nowhere near ready to let go. It can’t possibly already be September, can it?

Despite the fact that we’ve actually had an extra long and hot summer season, it still feels to me as if it only just started. In one way, that’s a little bit true. The gardens here – especially the Display Garden – are reaching their peak now. And barring some sort of natural disaster (Earl, step away from the gardens!) or the early frost that I’ve been pessimistically predicting since the daffodils came early, summer will be stunning for quite a while yet.

But first we’ve got to ride the wave. Gail and I are trying to get as much deadheading and weeding done in the gardens as we can first thing in the morning before copious sweat makes the sunglasses slide off our noses (we’ve given the volunteers a reprieve this week). And we’re keeping a weather eye on Hurricane Earl and family. Forecasters keep saying we’re in for it this year but we’ve got all fingers and toes crossed. – If that doesn’t work to fend off a hurricane, I don’t know what will.

Meanwhile, this is the best time for Gail and me to look over the gardens and make our annual assessments. We’ve grown plenty of plants worthy of rave reviews, put together a few winning combinations, and had our share of head-scratcher disappointments. All of which need to be documented (stay tuned). And of course we’re already kicking around ideas for next year’s gardens…

Have you started taking notes about this season (and next) – or have you been keeping track all along? Have you let go of summer?