Tuesday, October 17, 2017

Winding Down

A matching set of two what I think are Pinus contorta 'Taylor's Sunburst' followed me last week. They were half dead from last year's drought and no longer pretty enough. They will get a second chance with me in a less drought susceptible soil.

In three to four years I could have some nice looking pines. Or not.

I hope that is what they are since the only full sun location I had was behind the roadside vegetable garden under the utility lines. They need to be the slow growing dwarfs I think they are.




















I wait for autumn. The color is slow in coming. I would expect a bit more pizazz than I am seeing by the middle of October.




















Growing has stopped. Brown desiccation is more plentiful at the moment than color.




















The garden season is over. Winter and I will take our time and put the garden to bed in the nick of time as usual for the bulbs to rise in February.




















Joe Pye died one night while I wasn't looking. Now the seed will go forth and multiply.




















The fading process is interesting, not near as exhilarating as the fresh green emergence of spring.




















Other things will help make the winter garden interesting.




















Last night the forest went silent. The night singing bugs are very much on an on/off temperature switch. We dipped well into the off position.




















There was frost across the scenic byway on my neighbor's scalped hillside of grass this morning and none in my forest or meadow. All this wild helps hold the heat.




















The leaves are falling brown without color. One would expect that to change very soon. Where's autumn?


Sunday, October 15, 2017

Bloom Day Meditation

The weather has been delightful. Today and the last two evenings were spent being in the garden, in a deliberate effort to check out from all the noise. I highly recommend it.

The garden was needing me again and this is last call for big flower displays until the snowdrops emerge. Mums and asters take the garden into frost. The first one could happen this week.





















As the meadow thins and bends, the paths close off once again. The Under Garden begins to peak through.




















I ambled through the garden cutting mostly spent flower stems to make ambling along the paths that much easier. I began the clearing process around the planted plants, many which constitute the Under Garden, so that as the meadow falls down, it won't fall on those plants.

When you wander there are fall blooming crocus to be found.





















I attended to a number of chores in between bouts of sitting and being in the garden. And the truth is I am an old man now. Joints are creaking. Parts are failing. My age is settling in. The engine is in fine working order. Some parts are beginning to fade. There will need to be some adjustments.

Sheffie Mums bloom out there in the wild.





















I picked up lots of sticks and branches after the hurricanes, but otherwise the garden didn't need me. It was somewhat thrashed, but doing just fine. That will be a nice feature to have in the garden in the years to come, long periods when the garden can just be.

I clipped and wandered, opening the paths, and once again as the paths opened up, all was well with the garden. Even this late in the season, clear, visible, easy to traverse paths are the key to calm in the wild cultivated gardens. When the paths are open, all else can be forgiven.

The Shasta Daisy are doing a late flush of bloom this year.





















I did ID this aster some time back. Once again, it is an unknown.





















The Blue Wood Asters are well past peak. Cheery remnants remain.




















The Sisters will be arriving in a couple of weeks to take Bulbarella south. It is berry near the end.




















I sat and strolled and clipped and wondered. The Sisters are going to get a simple and easy gardening lesson while they are here. I hope the weather cooperates. It is possible that three old bodies might equal one that is a bit more intact.

What good are berries if they are buried in the Lush?




















Editing for Beginners - Keep the paths open. Better to see the Tatarian Aster.





















I did step off the path a number of times and clear out around many of my baby trees and shrubberies. The planted plants have been growing. They are becoming a substantial feature of the garden. I can see a time in my decrepitude when the Under Garden is the garden and the meadow is an easy side note.

I am really looking forward to seeing the winter Under Garden of a low mounding tapestry of texture and color this year. The plants are looking very good. Patience. The meadow will fade on its own time. The client's gardens will be put to bed. Then my main garden chore of the year can begin, cutting three acres of wild flowers down. I start around the dwarf conifers on the slope below the cabin and move out from there. I have all winter to do it.




















It's not quite over yet and the fading meadow has a charm of its own. More so when the paths are kept open.




















The big bloom is gone, but Bloom Day lives on at May Dreams Gardens. Stop in and have a look around.


Friday, October 13, 2017

A Mum

Where was I? Oh yes. A mum.





















The only excuse I have is that I am feeling all used up. I have dropped below 150lbs again. There don't seem to be any words left in there.

Frances G. Mum.


























My country trembles to its very foundations, trapped by a madman. That is exceptionalism of an ordinary scale. It's now our turn.




















In a pretend world it isn't noticed or discussed.





















The Sheffie Mums went wild. Their numbers dwindled in the face of strong competition, but they keep coming back.




















There is a set time for everything under the sun.





















Near the end are mums. There is one oddball. In person it looks like the brown child of 'Clara Curtis'.





















Here in this wild, the world makes sense.


Sunday, October 8, 2017

While Waiting For Nate

Hurricane remnants #2 is headed this way. We need the water, so if this is how it comes, we'll take it.

As I looked out yesterday morning, then a bit later discovered my deer hunter out there rustling around in the bushes, the beginning of fall was officially declared. The forest has begun to turn. Hunting season is here.





















The mums join the asters as the last things in the meadow to bloom. My Sheffie Mums went feral. They are fortunate to live in a very short piece of meadow. The tall things would shade them into oblivion.





















The blue asters are a near solid mass beneath the trees of the forest part of the garden. To get this kind of bloom in the shade, at the dead end of the time of vegetation, is close to a gardening  miracle. All I had to do was let nature handle the situation.




















The Yellie Mums live in a semi-proper flower bed and get a little more editing and elbow room than their turned feral parent. There are plants that can not compete effectively in the Tall Flower Meadow without help. The mums are one of them.




















The rain has come intermittently since last night. By midafternoon I was not impressed. We need more water than this. The ground is so dry, this kind of rain won't even make the creeks rise.




















Gentle is good. Any water is good. I had a nice restful day while waiting for Nate.


Friday, October 6, 2017

A Walk In The Goth Period

I have reached the age or that time of the gardening season when sitting still after work feels a lot more attractive.





















But the garden is not done yet. Actually this is its most provocative point of the season.





















And word is some hurricane wet is headed this way and it could get a little breezy. Best to go for a walk now while I can. I can sit later when it rains.





















Water is wanted. Wind is not.





















Wind can further tangle and squash an already dented Tall Flower Meadow.





















Far worse would be another major de-limbing of the forest. I don't want to pick up more huge piles of branches and sticks. I still have a few left from Irma to deal with.





















There are a few dents that did not un-ding post Irma, but overall the garden is looking pretty good.





















It has been mostly warm and dry since. There is some crispiness happening which is not much different from freeze dried crispy.





















Depending, it's always depending, the Goth Period could put on an extended show.





















I'm good with that.





















My asters are in full bloom.



























They could use a cool drink no doubt.





















Cool and wet without wind or freezing is the best chance to drag things out and give a turning forest the chance to join in.





















No matter. Fall always turns out just fine.





















This year's little dry is way better than last year's drought. That was crispy.





















I have begun the process of putting the client's gardens to bed as the perennials begin to fade. It is way to soon for that in the wild cultivated gardens.





















To walk the garden now is to see and feel a completely different dynamic from the summer garden. That faerie garden feeling is gone.





















The goblins ate them all up.