Our Tuesday volunteer group has been known for years — for ever? — as the “Deadheads” because they work in the Display Garden and traditionally, the biggest summer chore in these gardens has been to deadhead flowers to keep them from quitting and going to seed. While we still ask for help deadheading the annuals in the cutting garden to keep them blooming gangbusters, in recent years we have not deadheaded the other beds as rigorously. Now when the Deadheads ask if we want echinacea deadheaded in the pollinator bed we say, “No… let’s leave their seeds for the birds.” And when they ask if they should deadhead the betony, beebalm, cardoon, teasel, and eryngium, we say, “Nah, don’t those look cool?! Let’s leave them up for the winter.” Perhaps the Tuesday group needs a new name…

I know the betony (Stachys monnieri ‘Hummelo’) wouldn’t have bloomed again because we cut a couple of clumps back last year as a test, but the beebalm (Monarda fistulosa ‘Claire Grace’) might have rebloomed, and there are still buds opening along the echinacea stems. But right now I wouldn’t trade any of those seedheads for their flowers. Not only are they beautiful (in the eye of this beholder) but there is more wildlife activity in that garden than I ever remember seeing before. It’s positively mesmerizing – I’ve been so distracted that visitors have caught me gawping instead of working. Goldfinch, wrens, and sparrows are all vying for seeds and hummingbirds, bees and butterflies are still zinging around working all of the flowers that aren’t ready to go to seed yet.

But there’s a fine line between letting the garden go to seed and letting the garden go. Some gardeners and visitors might think the cardoon seedheads look more like the undead than the simply un-deadheaded. And I imagine that it might make some people nervous to watch them self-destruct and send helicopters wheeling on the wind to float with the butterflies and catch in the grass and on bare patches of soil. But that doesn’t make me nervous. As long as the stalks are still standing upright, surrounded by a colorful garden that looks tended (it’s been meticulously weeded and propped, if not deadheaded) rather than abandoned, and the birds are happy, then I figure we gardeners are as golden as the light that falls this time of year.

Do you deadhead everything up until the bitter end or do you leave seedheads standing for their looks and for the birds? Have you found a happy medium? (Have we? – All opinions welcome!)

I am as fickle as any gardener. I’ll pick a new favorite color, fragrance, leaf, flower, and plant habit every other week (or day) and reserve the right to change my mind over the slightest disappointment. That said, the hyssops, which have been blooming since June, are vertically eye-catching, and smell like candy, have managed to stay at the top of my favorites list for months now. I also think they deserve the  “Most Attractive Plant” award in the 2012 Blithewold yearbook superlatives.

Agastache, which is pronounced ah-GAH-stah-kee or aga-STAK-ee depending on who says it (tomato, tomahto), is Greek for very much (agan) spike (stachys) according to Allen J. Coombes’ The Hamlyn Guide to Plant Names. (He pronounces it the first way.) Very much spike is right. And probably because their native habitat is sharply drained hillsides they’re fairly sturdy, unfussy, and drought tolerant. They are also hardier than I ever thought. Around here anyway, wet winters and poor drainage are more likely to do them in than cold temperatures.

We are growing North American native anise hyssop (A. foeniculum, zone 4-11) because it seeds itself all over the Display Garden. Its spikes start out a lovely dusty blue and deepen over the season and are more slender than its hybrid child ‘Blue Fortune’ (zone 6-9; crossed with Korean A. rugosa). That’s the one we’re growing in the Rose Garden this year and the bees can’t get enough of it. My personal favorite, planted in the Display Garden and North, is ‘Black Adder’ (zone 6-9). The deep indigo bracts are spectacular especially now that every plant is also decorated with its own klatch of a half-dozen or more American Lady butterflies. (At least I think that’s what they are.) All 3 are standing a good 4-5′ tall now and need propping – particularly top-heavy ‘Blue Fortune’ even though we lopped them back by half in late May or early June. In my own garden, I grew ‘Golden Jubilee’ (zone 5-9), which has brilliant chartreuse foliage through mid-summer and pale grey-blue spikes. The best thing about that plant is that its seedlings have already started to pop up. The more the merrier. We have no intention of deadheading any of these because we’re looking forward to their structure over the winter, but we have used some stems in flower arrangements.

I always though that the cultivars of hummingbird mint like ‘Heatwave’, ‘Acapulco Orange’, and ‘Summer Glow’ were tender but they’re at least as hardy as ‘Black Adder’ and ‘Blue Fortune’. Both ‘Heatwave’ (zone 5-10) and A. mexicana ‘Acapulco Orange’ (zone 5-9) came back for us this year but last winter was unusually dry and mild so it probably wasn’t a good test. We have our fingers crossed for ‘Summer Glow’ (zone 6-9) in the North Garden, which in its first year isn’t as outstanding as the others but certainly could be the prettiest of all with one more season’s growth. We’ll probably take cuttings and overwinter a stock plant in the greenhouse just in case it doesn’t make it outside. The slightly contrasting bracts on ‘Acapulco Orange’ and ‘Summer Glow’ make those my faves over ‘Heatwave’ (plus they’re orange) but the hummingbirds probably have no preference at all.

Are you as in love with agastache as I am? Which ones do you grow?

I’ve gotten a couple of questions in the last week or two about what we do in the gardens to manage pests and diseases. Although a lot of you already know the answer, I don’t seem to mind repeating it for anyone who doesn’t. The short answer is: Nothing! We do not use any kind of chemical pesticides or fungicides for the sake of our own health as well as that of our volunteers, visitors, members, camp kids, pollinators, beneficial insects, birds and other wildlife. (That said, I believe Dan has sprayed some sort of bunny deterring pepper concoction in the Vegetable Garden. Not that it has worked. Also, the trees, shrubs, and lawns are managed differently.)

The long answer is: In the gardens, we try to keep plants healthy and stress-free by providing them with fertile soil (easy because the soil here is lovely) and adequate water. We amend the soil with compost, both our own and the biosolid and yardwaste mix (top grade and certified pathogen-free) made by Bristol’s composting facility, and we mulch with shredded leaves and buckwheat hulls, both of which add organic matter and aerate the soil as they break down.

We welcome insects, and the birds that eat them. We do minimal clean-up of seedheads and stalks in the fall to leave some habitat and cover for birds and insects over the winter. We have even started construction on an insect apartment house. (They’re all the rage in Europe.) It’s made of white oak, faces south for winter warmth, and we will continue to fill it with bits and bobs that that will provide nesting sites for solitary bees, lacewings, spiders, and any other critters that might find it cozy. The section with the slots is intended as a butterfly shelter but I read recently that they don’t really use those. Looks cool though.

It’s the visitors to our Rose Garden who have the hardest time believing that we don’t spray fungicides, etc. Honestly, we don’t need to. I know I’ve said this a million times already but here it is again: along with choosing disease-resistant roses, and giving them great soil and adequate water (about an inch per week), we also fertilize them 3 times over the season (in April as they break, in May/June just before peak, and in August for their last flush) using a slow release organic granular fertilizer (Espoma Bulb-Tone); we rake out the spotty leaves twice weekly; and we hand-pick Japanese beetles. But the real reason the roses look healthy is because there are other beautifully blooming plants in that garden that draw everyone’s attention away from a few yellow or lacy leaves.

In the gardens, we live and let live. Don’t you?

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?

Being surrounded by beautiful flowers, interesting foliage and delicious fragrance is great and all but I think the best reason to grow a garden might be for the privilege of sharing it with a few of nature’s other creatures. This morning in the pollinator garden I came nose to nose with a hummingbird (who obviously, was much quicker than I…) Our little moment together would have been fairly unlikely had I been standing on of an expanse of lawn instead of in the middle of a garden full of his favorite flowers. Plus where else can you, if you train your eyes to see, easily find praying mantis hanging out?

And honestly, is there anything better than a bucketful of frogs? Blithewold’s Camp Sequoia kiddos have been monitoring the frogs’ progress all summer from tadpole to poliwog (froglet?) to today’s wee teensie frogs. They’ve been finding all sorts of other creatures in their nets too like dragonfly larvae and water striders. Any garden that mimics nature the way the water garden does will be full to bursting with activity. Fascinating to watch – and catch.

Of course nature will occasionally send a message that a close encounter can be too close… For all we cultivate and maintain, gardens are still wild places. – Or so the bumblebee told me on Monday. But for anyone who isn’t fatally allergic, a little pain and swelling is a small price to pay for getting such a good view of their way of life.

It seems like the activity in the gardens is ramping up to a frenzy (or maybe the critters all think a hurricane is coming) – have you had close encounters of the natural kind lately too?