So, very soon, there will be no more picking sun-warmed tomatoes, no more lying in the hammock looking up at the clouds through the leaves of the silver birch. No more walking barefoot on warm grass, batting away the wasps, eating meals in the shade of a big tree...
I know all about the wonderful golden light of September and the joys of a log fire on an Autumn evening, but they do not compare with the promise of a June morning. Every season has its compensations and its joys, but I can't help but mourn the passing of summer.
I recently travelled to a fantastic nursery, where the many varieties are grown by a real plantsmen, who then sells them at extremely reasonable prices. (It is called Reighton Nursery, near Filey btw). Once there, I made like a truffle hound, drawn by colour, not truffle-scent. I made like a bee or a butterfly and headed for any plant showing colour. I won't bore you with what I bought, because you will be all too familiar with the rollcall of Rudbeckia, Echinachea, Michaelmas Daisy... all those late colour stalwarts. On the way home, the back of the car looked like an explosion in a Smarties factory.
Over the last years I have been trying to build a long season of colour into the garden, living in perpetual denial over the ending of summer. I remove the evidence of dying vegetation and seedheads whenever I can, and pretend that all is still in its burgeoning glory for as long as I possible. When I buy a new plant, I always look for a long/ late flowering period.
Articles in gardening magazines, and presenters on gardening programmes wax lyrical over the joys of Autumn, and I fully acknowledge that every season has its pleasures, but I just feel a deep sadness every time the summer begins to slip away.
I just don't want to see this ...
or this ...
or this ...
or this ...
I want these ...
or these ...
or these ...
No worries though ... the Aconitum are yet to come ! All still in bud ! Must still be summer !
I saw your comment on Casa Mariposa and something told me you would be a refreshing read. I know what you mean about fall, and trying to extend colour in the garden. I've just moved to a very mild area where, so they say, one can plant in September and harvest through the winter. I'm giving it a go. Will be following by email.
ReplyDeleteWelcome to my blog, Susan, and I will pop over to visit you too ! Thanks for following ! Where have you moved to ? Sounds idyllic !
DeleteI'm on the coast of British Columbia. Growing conditions here are much closer to what I experienced in England.
DeleteOh dear, what a sad lament :( I love your image of the explosion in a Smarties factory - I could just see how the back of the car would have looked. Like you, I am always looking for flowering plants that extend the season into autumn and winter. I actually love autumn, with all its turning leaves, but hate that dying flower look. It's why I appreciate woody Salvias so much - they look their glorious best as other things are getting tired.
ReplyDeleteHi Lyn, thanks for your comments .
DeleteWoody Salvias sound like the way to go ! I always love the last man standing !!
Hello Jane, another great post! Wonderful blooms and the not so nice ones oh just ignore LOL Btw I love going to plant nurseries that sell good plant and yet the prices are good as well. They are hard to find but when found, I love to visit again and again :-D In addition I love to discover plant nurseries with a great passion for plants and not just selling for profit ;-)
ReplyDeleteHi Stephanie and thanks for your comments. I totally agree about the nurseries with a passion for plants. Some of the big garden centres are just big supermarkets which happen to sell plants rather than bread and milk ! I love the true nurseries where staff are knowledgable and interested.
ReplyDeleteyay!
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