Harbingers of Autumn: End of the Month Views at the End of Summer

Tomorrow is the start of meteorological autumn. I've been thinking about autumn a lot lately, what with the temperatures 10 degrees above normal and virtually no rain for three weeks. I long for the cool, crisp days of autumn. One frequently encounters the phrase "harbinger of spring," but what about those plants that are the harbingers of the other transitional season?

The garden looks worn and tired....


Once again, let's start at the street.

view from the curb

Rose 'Carefree Beauty' and Dianthus 'Cranberry Ice'

The rose is finally starting to look good again without the constant onslaught of Japanese beetles.

Phlox and coneflowers keep the nanoprairie going until the ex-Asters explode

Caryopteris and Echinacea 

the saddest part of the late August garden

halfway along the path


and turning around at the other end of the path

the blue/purple back there is Lobelia syphilitica

Clematis 'Betty Corning' has never stopped blooming.

Ceratostigma plumbaginoides plays nicely with Heuchera Citronelle, which is reblooming

Phlox 'Red Super' and Lobelia 'Sparkle DeVine'

I should have waited to take this shot, the tree on the left is gone now

Heptacodium miconiodes is in bloom

until you look closer, and see the harbingers of autumn:
the fall-blooming Anemones,

Anemone x hybrida 'Andrea Atkinson'

the toadlilies,

Tricyrtis 'Tojen'

the ex-Asters,

ex-aster Eurybia divaricata

the Colchicums,

Colchicum 'The Giant'

the Sedums,

Hylotelephium 'Becka'

Hylotelephium 'Matrona'

the Caryopterises,

Caryopteris 'Jason' (Sunshine Blue®)

and the goldenrods.

Solidago 'Fireworks'

Have you seen any harbingers of autumn in your garden?

Thanks again to Helen of The Patient Gardener's Weblog, for the suggestion of posting garden views at the end of each month.
 

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Want to see some beautiful spiderwebs? Check out my post at Wildlife Garden today.

Ladies & Gentlemen, We Have A Winner

I'm just tickled that my "On the Road Again" entry in Gardening Gone Wild's Picture This photo contest won the gold.  Congratulations to all the winners, and thank you, judge Allan Mandell, for your kind words and appreciation of the idea behind the image.  The win completely compensates for the aching back and feet and the sweat I accrued as a result of my walk across the Loop that afternoon.   Because I went outside of my comfort zone and heeded some good advice (thank you Mary Ann!), I ended up with something extraordinary.


It's easy to stay in the same old rut, doing the same thing in the same way.  Making that detour, slowing down to absorb the experience, can yield great rewards for those willing to give it a try.  The same is true in the garden.  How do you know that a supposedly tender plant won't survive the winter until you try it?

Colchicum 'The Giant' growing next to an overwintered Oxalis regnellii 'Atropurpurea'

I was afraid to order a hundred Crocuses, until Gail, of Clay and Limestone, encouraged me (she's planting over a thousand this fall).

Crocus tommasinianus April 2010

I cut down an old Forsythia that was too big to be so close to the house.

It's a big change, and a risk, but whatever happens, I'm proud of myself for having the guts to do it, instead of continuing to try to tame it.

On a more personal note, my nephew Philip is going way out of his comfort zone. He's leaving tomorrow to begin his new job in Japan, teaching school to little Japanese kids.  It's a one-year gig.  He's fresh out of college, speaks no Japanese, and has never visited Asia.  He's going alone:  no family, no friends.

incognito Cut-out Phil

Good luck, Phil!  We'll miss you.  You're a big winner and an inspiration.

Choosing the Substitute for Sedum 'Black Jack': Three for Thursday

Three for Thursday, as suggested by Cindy, at From My Corner of Katy, is a meme of three things, any three things.  This week's offering is a plant evaluation/comparison.  Results herein may not be typical and are valid as applied only to Squirrelhaven.  Adapt the conclusions at your own risk.

Hylotelephium/Sedum 'Black Jack' burst on the horticultural scene as the best thing since pay at the pump, with its large, dark purple foliage.  Experience in my garden revealed that 'Black Jack' couldn't live up to the billing, as its leaves left much to be desired.  I love the look of the dark foliage, so I determined to find a replacement.

After several years, the search is finally over.  I have three dark-foliaged Sedums, all growing in a container as was 'Black Jack.'  And the contestants are:

'Purple Emperor' - I planted this last year.  Nice, but the foliage isn't quite dark enough, which caused me to resume my search this spring, when I brought home contestant #2

Hylotelephium 'Xenox'

'Xenox' appeared to be the perfect replacement.  So perfect that I put it in the patio container where 'Black Jack' used to reside.  While the part shown above looks fine, the plant as a whole is a big disappointment.  It looks half dead, with limp stems leading to the attractive ends.  It's possible it got squirrel-damaged, but I don't think that's the whole story.  It needs further evaluation.

Which leaves us with the winner:

Hylotelephium spectabile 'African Sunset'

'African Sunset,' looks to have the goods.  It has very dark foliage, which has held up well, and good flowers.  The only drawback as a substitute for 'Black Jack' is that it isn't as upright, but then neither are 'Purple Emperor' or 'Xenox.'

At this point, my search takes a lacuna until I stumble across an upright dark foliaged Sedum that I just have to try.

Do you grow a good, dark foliaged Sedum?

Wildflower Wordless Wednesday: Aralia Racemosa Berries

Aralia racemosa/spikenard

Wildflower Wednesday is brought to you by Gail of Clay and Limestone.

On Leaf Mold, A Use For Landscape Fabric, and a Leaf Vac

Maianthemum racemosum/Smilacina racemosa

Dear readers - After days of temperatures in the 90s (30sC), the weather has finally moderated, allowing yours truly to head to the Scary Back Corner (SBC) of the garden where the compost and leaf mold bins reside. The majority of the mosquitoes hang out back there, with the result that I've avoided the area until I could venture back there wearing pants.  The time has come to take the finished leaf mold out of the bin, making way for the new shredded leaves I've already started collecting with the new leaf vac.

The old Black & Decker died last fall after a long life of much abuse from cottonwood twigs and too many sodden leaves. I considered getting a leaf shredder, but rejected that idea after spending an hour hand picking cottonwood leaves out the beds in the woodland garden. The rake was useless. Why, you ask, do I bother to pick up leaves in the garden, as they will break down into leaf mold on their own. Au contraire, mon frere. Not when the particular leaves are from the cottonwood tree. Large, leathery, they would commit planticide by smothering anything unfortunate enough to be lying beneath them after a rain.

I really question whether they'd bother to break down at all if I didn't shred them before putting them in the leaf mold bin.

The bin was filled to overcapacity last fall, so the leaves which were not used as winter mulch were stored in leaf bags over the winter. Any of those that weren't used as spring and summer mulch were added to pile as it shrank. The extreme heat (extreme for those of us who had to deal with -15F/-26C six months ago) has cooked it all down to an unrecognizable brown substance that's good for conditioning the soil and for retaining moisture around plants. I store it in a large plastic bin with a lid.

I'm extremely pleased with my new leaf mold bin system. Last fall I moved the bin from a more prominent position in the garden to the SBC. Before the move, I had to deal with tree roots (probably from the above-reviled cottonwood) invading the bin and ruining some of the leaf mold. To avoid that problem, I put the bin on an old piece of stockade fencing on concrete blocks, then lined the bottom of the bin with landscape fabric to keep the leaf mold from falling through the gaps in the fence. It worked like a dream. No nasty roots, and the leaf mold was easy to scoop out.

I have to say I'm not loving the new leaf vac, a Homelite blower/vac. I can't find a comfortable position in which to hold it that doesn't strain my back.

Position "Not Comfortable"

The entire weight of the machine is felt in the hands and arms and the weight of the bag on one side causes back strain.
The heat and lack of rain also prevented me from dealing with some of the weeds. It was painful to have to avert my eyes from this big boy until after a half-inch rain fall.

I got most of it out. I really don't know how I allowed it to get so large. This has been a lousy summer for the garden and the gardener. Good thing it's almost over.

Picture This: On the Road Again & Looking at the Lurie

The former "Associates Building" literally towers over Millennium Park. (It's been taken over by a tribe of small blue men, with only one woman, and renamed "Smurfit-Stone Building.")

For this month's "Picture This" photo contest at Gardening Gone Wild, judge Allan Mandell chose the theme "On the Road Again." Bet you thought I'd post a shot from Buffalo, but no. The above photo was taken in Millenium Park, in Chicago. At first blush, it might appear that I wasn't on the road, as I live in what is called "Chicagoland." But I was on the road. I haven't been in the Loop since April, and I've been within the city limits only twice since then, both trips to the North Side, north of Irving Park Road. So when I was at Navy Pier for the Independent Garden Center Show, Mary Ann, of Gardens of the Wild, Wild West, urged me to pop over to the Lurie Garden on my way to the train station heading home. I snapped photos like a tourist, which, in a way, I was.

I used my little point-and- shoot, just like all the other tourists.

The top photo isn't from the Lurie itself, but it spoke to me about the spirit of Millennium Park and Chicago's motto, "Urbus in Horto," City in a garden. Under Mayor Richard M. Daley, the City of Chicago has made great strides to live up to that motto, with beautiful plantings in parkways and medians, everywhere you look. The juxtaposition of the cold, man-made skyscrapers with the flowing life of the grasses operates as a metaphor for the city that grew out of the prairie.

And now, some images from the Lurie itself:

Is that really pink Muhly grass (Muhlenbergia)?

If so, I want some from their seeds.

The river of stuff.


Exotics have been carefully mixed in with the natives at the Lurie.

Here, Perovskia from Siberia rubs shoulders with the native Eryngium yuccafolium (rattlesnake master).

Grouping with Agastache.



Panicum virgatum, Amsonia and blooming Agastache


Another exotic, a hardy Geranium, lines the path.

Here's an old friend from the prairie,

one of the Silphiums.


It looks a lot taller at Flint Creek Savannah.

I hope you enjoyed the shots. Have you played tourist in your town?