The Autumn Garden

Summer's on the fading end of its trajectory toward autumn. Another day, and pouff! it's gone. To be repeated certainly, next year, but completed for this year of 2007.

I have a habit of scrutinizing gardens wherever we happen to be travelling in the car, whether it's down the street or across the city. This city or any other we might happen to be in. I am fascinated with the appearance of gardens and occasionally I experience the great good fortune to espie one that seems a divine admixture of colour, architecture, texture and presentation.

Truth be told, more than occasionally. I delight in these travelling garden adventures. It makes me feel so good to see how capable people can be as casual gardeners. How important it is to so many people to become involved with nature's eccentric bounty in this ancient cult of the garden. I'm seldom disappointed, in actual fact, on any given trip, since I do see many gardens of note, for one reason or another. Subtle garden presentations, or flamboyant, classical or casual, I love them all.

So when time comes to gradually close down the growing season, it's rather a sad expectation. On the other hand, autumn too has its many attractions, and there is much to admire in the changing of colour in deciduous shrubs and trees. And the last succession of wildflowers that present themselves so confidently, year after year. Above all, the perennial succession in my own garden, the very last to make their presence known and admired.

From the Japanese anemone, to the cone flowers and black-eyed Susan, the stalwart, still-blooming roses, and chrysanthemum and asters - to the peculiar yellow flower wands of the ligularia, and the toad lilies. They all add value in their time and place in the garden. We've had three successive days of frost thus far, and fearing that tender annuals might succumb, I anticipated the worst. But it didn't materialize; the earlier heavy rain had helped to protect tender flowers.

So that, we still have ample begonias, million bells, petunias, verbena, flowering maple, lobelia, and so many others that the garden depends on for seasonal colour, stubbornly willing to remain as long as possible. A feast for the eyes.