We’re allegedly getting a hard freeze this evening, the winds are picking up and peak fall is about to leave us. I had to capture it all before it departs.
Enjoy.
Category Archives: Fall color
Autumn is still killing it.
From left to right:
Acer rubrum ‘October Glory’ (Red Maple)
Miscanthus purpurascens (Flame Grass)
Betula nigra (River Birch)
After posting this photo I realized I could simplify the description of my garden design plan as follows:
50% Ornamental grasses
20% Amsonia
20% Joe Pye Weed
10% Miscellaneous
And that’s it. Not all that complicated I guess.
Two days ago I posted a pic of what I presume will be the last Geranium bloom of the year. I enjoy that last gasp of summer, even if it’s a singular flower making little impact in the garden.
As that flower will soon fade, so will that healthy looking Geranium foliage (self-pat on back for cutting them back hard, post-bloom). You can see below the decline has commenced.
The fall garden feels different this year. Yes, it’s the best season for my display of grasses and later blooming perennials. But I can’t kick the feeling that by this time next year, my daughter will be away at college (as I’m sure I’ve mentioned previously, it could be as far south as Georgia and as far west as California) and there’s a good chance my son will relocate to wherever the sports reporting job takes him, post college graduation.
We’re looking at a sort of empty nest for the first time in a long time. While beyond thrilled to see what the world has next for my two kids and beyond blessed in so many damn ways, it’s hard to fend off the impending sadness knowing it will be much quieter around the Markowski household.
You know what I like besides puppies and peanut butter pretzels? I like surprises. Not a surprise party or surprise visit to my home. But genuine surprises where there aren’t people involved. Unless it’s my kids surprising me. In a good way.
Today’s surprise is courtesy of my Buttonbush (Cephalanthus occidentalis) ‘Sugar shack’. And that surprise is that it actually has some decent fall color. I didn’t know buttonbush fall color was a thing.
Maybe I missed it previously. This is an area of the garden I don’t frequent that much this time of year when it’s typically wet and I need me some decent galoshes to get there. But color me happy. I love the combo of the orange of the buttonbush and dark red of the Viburnum next door to the left. A blip in time, yes, but a fun and pretty blip at that.
Buttonbush fall color.
A nice surprise.
I’ve shared this photo a lot lately.
Sorry. But here it is again.
A perfect mash-up of dead, dying, aging gracefully. hanging on by a thread and thriving.
I love them all.
A realization today.
I don’t like the combo of the Obedient Plant (Physostegia) ‘Vivid’ and Amsonia hubrichtii, as seen below.
I despise the look of the bright purple against the yellow/gold fall color. It’s garish. It’s wrong. And now I have to use this off season to figure out what I’m going to do here. Most likely the Amsonia stays and the Physostegia gets relocated.
The struggle is real.
Well that escalated quickly. Just a few weeks back, these perennials were blooming a beautiful purple/blue and now, they’re not. Call me crazy, but I’m still a fan of the Ironweed in fall, even if the color has departed.
Those seed heads are handsome and I’ve got no issue with them falling off and going wherever they want to go.
Last week I shared a photo of my flame grass (Miscanthus purpurascens) where the silvery blooms absolutely shined when backed with the late afternoon sun.
Killer stuff.
I’m now happy to report that we’ve reached another level. A level I call “peak awesomeness”. The orange has arrived and it is f’n glorious.
Mic drop.
Actually a quick note post mic drop: I’m having issues with my email provider for this blog because I’m now creating a post every day and I’m allegedly limited with the number of emails that can be sent out each day/week/month. Until I figure that out, please know there will be a daily post but you may not see an email to indicate as such. So please, check in directly each day and I promise I’ll continue to deliver.
The instinct is to cut bee balm to the ground with their dead flowers and powdery mildew riddled leaves.
But I don’t.
I let them die with grace.
I like the flower petals strewn throughout the garden.
But most importantly, I love me some spent Monarda (Bee Balm) blooms in front of the ornamental grasses providing that much sought after fall and winter interest.
