receding garden

I hate to see the plants fade away. There was a little frost out this morning, but it has not been icy cold yet. But nature is in the middle of winding down much of the living things in my garden, so the faithful hostas are half yellow, the purple coneflower are brown stems with half-eaten seed heads (the yellow finches love them). The catmint caught a second breath and will wait for the shock of a freeze before it dies down.

Even the anemones, a gift from Mother Ferriani out of her garden two years ago, are starting to loose blooms.

But when I look for vibrancy left in the garden, I see the viburnams, small plants when we moved here that have grown into maturity. I haven't identified the cultivar, but they are fragrant, putting out big white domed blossoms in spring that fill the air with their vanilla scent.

These shrubs are the first to put out leaves in spring, big leathery tough leaves. Hairy leaves. So far, the chill of Autumn has only made them look happier.

And all my English roses. I am careful not to prune going into fall. I'll prune in late Winter. No need to encourage new growth right before the freezing and cold of winter.

But now in these, by their standards, mild days, the roses are showing how much they like sunshine and chilled air. The leaves have that dark red and dark green look of a healthy rose plant. Good job, store up as much as you can before winter, I think.

After two years, the columbine have started sprouting small seedlings. I've been spreading foxglove, poppy and larkspur seed, as well as seed from my other perennials, in hopes that the scarring and thawing of winter will soften these hard to germinate seeds and get them to spring forth next year.

Winter is coming, and I am already daydreaming about next spring.

But I got work to do this fall. I resolve to focus.

Boast not thou self of tomorrow for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth. Proverbs 27:1