My mind pays no attention to the calendar’s declaration that fall begins on September 21. It isn’t until the leaves start to change that I grasp the obvious—summer is over!

Dahlias and roses smooth my transition from summer to fall. Both continue blooming even after first frost. Only a killing frost defeats them.

 

The dahlias gain momentum from mid August on. Each week there are more blooms then the week before. Even though I am picking bowls full of blooms from my sixteen plants in the vegetable garden, a few days later there are many more.

Consequently I have planted roses everywhere. Using the English ivy on the house as their trellis, roses grow up the house and across the top of the windows hanging down and peeking in. 'Eden Climber' garlands the balcony.

Dahlia dames range from the brassy, to the outspoken and even sweetly shy. They might explode in fireworks of petals or bear a shape that is neat and tidy.

For sheer drama nothing beats the plate-sized blooms.

Most of my dahlias have been with me for twenty-five years, although I occasionally add new tubers every few years when I see one I can’t resist.  Each year, either in the fall after the first killing frost when I dig them up for winter storage or, in the spring when I cut the tubers apart before I replant them, I have plenty to give away.  Dahlias are one of the most giving plants.
 (Check out the dahlia flower arrangements on the Bouquets From The Garden Tab.)

In the fall the roses are on the wane. They never look as good as they did in June, when the foliage is fresh and blooms plentiful, but there are still plenty to pick. 

By October 12, 2008 when this picture was taken some of the shrubs are over 8-feet tall. I admit I didn't prune to within 8-inches of their lives in the spring, but still! Pruned back to 3- or 4-feet (with all of the dead removed) they managed to grow another 4-to 5-feet in as many months. I stopped deadheading in October to encourage more rosehips and to let the roses lull themselves to sleep for the winter. I love rosehips in Christmas decorations.

October 18, 2008

The Franklin Tree

One of the best-kept secrets of fall is the camellia-like bloom on the Franklin tree, Franklinia alatamaha, named for Benjamin Franklin. A native of Georgia, it was discovered growing along the banks of the Altamaha River by John Bartram in 1770. Regrettably, it disappeared from the wild shortly after. There are references to a sighting in 1803, but the reports were doubted even at the time. So what we have are all direct descendants of Bartram's original find, reason enough to grow Franklinia even if it weren't for its beauty and soft sweet scent. The white, cupped flowers are punctuated with spun gold centers and continue blooming even as the leaves are changing to a blazing red. Flowers, blooming among changing foliage, is such an unusual sight that I would like to see the Franklin tree more widely grown.

In mid October our Franklinia tree is still flowering at one end of our winter garden, more than two months after it began. I counted five white blooms among the bright foliage. I recommend planting one this fall to help preserve our America heritage. It is available from Forestfarm plant nursery, a mail order company.

At our house, there is always a tie for the first blaze of all-out-color between the Franklin tree and the burning bush, Euonymus alata 'Compacta'. I have grown it for more than twenty years yet; every fall when it ignites into a blaze of scarlet foliage, I can't take my eyes off it. Part of the appeal is the blue monkshood and the white Japanese anemone in the foreground. Right before election day I have my patriotic corner.

Burning bush is easy to grow and has never given me any trouble. I didn't realize until recently that it is invasive. I was clearing a bramble more than 20 feet away from the shrub and discovered under the rampant porcelain vine, five, 3-feet high burning bushes. So be forewarned!

Fall blooming bulbs are as easy to grow as spring bloomers but are not nearly as well known, nor as often grown. In our garden we have large clumps of three different varieties of colchicum, fall crocus and cyclamen.

The colchicum, three different varieties, 'Lilac Wonder', 'The Giant' and 'Water lily', are perfectly partnered with the pachysandra by the back entrance. They are naked ladies, floppy flowers without any foliage, and don't easily stand up by themselves. The pachysandra holds them up. The same is true for the clump under the witch hazels blooming along with the plumbago.

Fall crocus blooms in the vinca in a shrub border and along the woodland path. Every few years I dig up a clump and divide it so I can start new colonies in different areas of the garden.

If you are thirsty, here is a reason to raise a glass. Both autumn crocus and colchicum are poisonous and critter proof. Now you know you have to plant some!

Cyclamen are so small they won't be noticed from a distance so I planted them on top of a three-foot high stonewall where I can admire their tiny pink blooms. The blooms may be small but they keep coming for months.

If you are thirsty, here is a reason to raise a glass. Both autumn crocus and colchicum are poisonous and critter proof. Now you know you have to plant some!

Cyclamen are so small they won't be noticed from a distance so I planted them on top of a three-foot high stonewall where I can admire their tiny pink blooms. The blooms may be small but they keep coming for months.

Sheffield mums (Chrysanthemum koreanum 'Sheffield') don't look like mums at all, rather salmon-pink daisies with a yellow center. These plants grow without any fuss in my heavy clay soil. They bloom non-stop for 6 weeks or more and are often covered with monarch butterflies. The clumps spread by underground runners making it easy to lop off a clump for a neighbor.

Colors are blazing in the herb garden at the entrance to the vegetable and cutting garden. Pineapple sage continues to send up scarlet lightening racemes for several months. Only killing frost halts their growth. The flowers last a week or more indoors in bouquets.

The vegetable garden still has cherry tomatoes falling off the vine and Swiss chard that I haven't picked for weeks. When things are plentiful, it is easy to ignore them.

The copper beech has turned to coronation gold. It lights up the front lawn.

The Korean Mountain Ash sparkles with pink berries. This year was a particularly fruitful year. I cut bunches of berries for bouquets and wreaths and I'll recycle them for holiday decorating.

The ornamental cherry's leaves are blazing yellow. As they fall, the secret playhouse under its branches is no longer the perfect hiding place for visiting kids.