A garden for all seasons

Posted on October 21, 2023 by composerinthegarden

The seasons are what a symphony ought to be: four perfect movements in harmony with each other. ~Arthur Rubinstein (unverified)

Slowly, the leaves are beginning to don their autumn cloaks of gold and red. The weeping cherry in the center of the circle garden is the first to turn,

followed by the red leaves of our native oak leaf hydrangea.

Much of the garden has barely begun to change color – the oaks are the last to turn as if they are reluctant to leave summer behind.

The white blossoms of Hydrangea ‘Limelight’ have softened to a rose-tinged hue

while other flowers and foliage carry on as if autumn was still a distant dream.

Snapdragon ‘Black Prince’

Red coleus

Orange coneflower

Ipomea ‘Blackie’

This summer, a former student came to visit us at home and we spent a splendid afternoon together. In the midst of his technology filled life, he had become interested in gardening and asked for a tour of my garden. Bill tagged along and as we strolled through the rose arbor into the lower garden, Bill exclaimed “walking through the arbor, now I understand!”

As I turned to him in puzzlement, he went on to say that he hadn’t walked through the arbor into that part of the garden in a long time, having been content to admire it from the deck while playing his guitar. Walking into the garden gave him a completely different perspective of what it meant to stand in the space and be enveloped by it. I was deeply moved by his reaction yet it confirmed what I’ve always believed about a garden – to truly experience it, you need to walk through it, not just look at it. Those of you who garden or who hike in nature surely know this difference.

By bringing a soulful consciousness to gardening, sacred space can be created outdoors. ~S. Kelley Harrell

My garden has developed its own sense of place over the years – while I made the design decisions, tilled the soil, and filled it with plants, it was in partnership with nature. The garden and I evolved and grew together – I learned its many secrets, it responded to my care and now we are deeply intertwined in this long standing friendship.

This is where I’ve walked every day for the past 22 years, listening, paying attention, and finding delight. Joined in this quiet endeavor, our efforts have yielded both beauty and bounty in every season. Each time I step through an arbor, walk along a path, cradle a flower, or watch a spider weave an intricate web, I feel a part of the magic.

. . . the ideal space must contain elements of magic, serenity, sorcery and mystery. ~Luis Barragan, Mexican architect

A few weeks ago, I taught a garden design class and decided that the best way to teach the value of structure in a garden was to make a short video of the entrances of my garden through every season. As I was putting it together, I realized these entrances are really the invitation to enter into the garden.

A garden must combine the poetic and the mysterious with a feeling of serenity and joy. ~Luis Barragan

As the seasons change, I hope each of you finds serenity and joy in the nuances and beauty of nature.

Delicious autumn

Posted on November 5, 2022 by composerinthegarden

Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the Earth seeking the successive autumns. ~George Eliot

I have always loved autumn, with its cooler temperatures and crisp golden days. There were many mornings this past week where walking in the garden felt magical, the low light sifting amber through the leaves. The flowers of PG Hydrangea ‘Limelight’ have turned a soft pink yet still play host to sleeping bumblebees.

The oak trees have been putting on a brilliant display this year, hung like jewels against vivid blue skies.

It was a beautiful bright autumn day, with air like cider and a sky so blue you could drown in it.” ~Diana Gabaldon

But there was also a few foggy days that brought out the more subtle colors of autumn.(click on any photo to see the full size version)

Is not this a true autumn day? Just the still melancholy that I love – that makes life and nature harmonise. ~George Eliot

The leaves have been falling for days. I set my coffee cup down for a moment in order to take a photo and it was covered in leaves within moments.

The birds are consulting about their migrations, the trees are putting on the hectic or the pallid hues of decay, and begin to strew the ground . . . ~George Eliot

The coleus and other annuals have became gigantic displays of warm color surrounding the house and deck

while a few roses bloom their last flowers of the season.

Pixie has been the real star of the garden this year, racing through the woods and tracking my every step through the garden, gracefully posing for the camera.

She is featured in a little film I made of the autumn garden, working her way into the path of the camera with ease.

The leaves continue to drift down, in a few days the trees will be bare and the ground covered. Until then, I celebrate the garden as it completes its final dramatic act of the season.

The leaves as they spark into wild color just before they die are the world’s oldest performance art . . . ~Shauna Niequist

How beautiful the leaves

Posted on November 21, 2021 by composerinthegarden

How beautiful the leaves grow old. How full of light and color are their last days. ~John Burroughs

The weeping cherry glows as the last bit of gold in the lower garden, an umbrella of light in the late autumn garden.

The mild fall weather has delayed leaf fall and a few days have been warm enough to dine outside. Bill and I ate lunch at an outdoor restaurant in our local park; a mild sunny day filled the patio with diners in November. The stillness and beauty of the lake we viewed from our table stayed with us for days.

The garden is a place of constant change. Two weeks ago, the trees were still loaded with leaves

and the skies were blue.

What was golden

became bronze

and finally fell to the earth.

Autumn is the hardest season. The leaves are all falling, and they’re falling like they’re falling in love with the ground. ~Andrea Gibson

The last burst of color of autumn is at the entrance to our driveway, where the kousa dogwood and azalea leaves are having a multicolored moment.

I want to send a special thanks to all of you who read and commented on my last post about our beautiful Angel – your words meant so much and helped in the healing process. One of our longtime friends sent us a sketch he created of one of Angel’s photos; we were surprised and thrilled and he promised to send an oil painting. Gus was the best man at our wedding and our drummer when Bill and I were performing many years ago in Pittsburgh as Sundance (Gus is looking over my shoulder). He retired and moved to Florida a few years ago with his wife Shirley, where he has returned to drawing and painting – his work is regularly shown at a local gallery. We were deeply touched when this beautiful painting of our girl arrived this week – Gus caught the essence of her beauty and expression and it was one more gift of friendship that is healing our hearts.

For those of you who celebrate the coming American Thanksgiving holiday, I wish you a warm and loving holiday and a joyous autumn to all.

Go, sit upon the lofty hill,
And turn your eyes around,
Where waving woods and waters wild
Do hymn an autumn sound.
The summer sun is faint on them—
The summer flowers depart—
Sit still— as all transform’d to stone,
Except your musing heart. ~Elizabeth Barrett Browning, The Autumn

Painted leaves

Posted on October 26, 2019 by composerinthegarden

October is the month for painted leaves . . . ~Thoreau

While the garden is quietly collapsing back into the earth, the trees are a riot of color. Cold crisp nights dipping towards the freezing point have triggered the shift from soft green leaves to a paintbox of crisp autumn colors. Most of my time outside has been spent looking upwards, that’s where the drama is. (click on any photo to see a full size image)

October proved a riot a riot to the senses and climaxed those giddy last weeks before Halloween. ~Keith Donohue

A few tender plants linger – a coral Million Bells tucked under the spiral staircase, Gloriosa daisies in a planter on the deck, a mound of coral red ‘Sedona’ coleus in a protected corner of the house.

The herb circle in the front of the house remains lush, with tall grasses and creamy seedhead clouds of our native white snakeroot (Eupatorium rugosum) octoberherbcircle

along with a mound of tall blue ageratums self-sown from last year.

A few days ago, a flock of robins gathered for their flight south and indicated to me that they wanted their favorite watering bowl at the foot of the oaks cleaned and refilled. I obliged and they drank long and deep before taking to the skies. oakmaple

The leaves of the kousa dogwoods have turned a deep russet red kousaleaves while the wild grapevine leaves remain green even as their stems turn scarlet. wildgrapevineleaf

As I step outside each morning, a rich sweet smell arises from the earth, the scent of fallen fruit, decomposing leaves and rain soaked earth, the smell of true autumn. hardyplumbagoleaves

At no other time (than autumn) does the earth let itself be inhaled in one smell, the ripe earth . . . ~Rainer Maria Rilke

Browsing the autumn garden

Posted on September 14, 2019 by composerinthegarden

The slant of the autumn light is making for dramatic mornings in the garden. Sunlight sifts through the dark leaves of the oak and maple trees, reminding me that the autumn equinox is only a week away.

treelight

The herb garden glows in the low morning light, highlighting the flower racemes of Pennisetum ‘Little Bunny’ in the thick mix of natives Eupatorium rugosum and Rudbeckia triloba in the herb circle. (Click on any photo in the mosaic to see a larger image)

Herb circle

Pennisetum alopecuroides ‘Little Bunny’

‘Little Bunny’

Rudbeckia triloba and Miscanthus sinensis ‘Morning Light’

Ageratum houstonianum and Eupatorium rugosum

Sedums and autumn crocus bloom along with a few vibrantly colored annuals.

Sedums

Autumn crocus

Lantana and Cuphea ignea

But parts of the autumn garden have been pruned for me unintentionally. A few weeks ago, the tall phlox began to disappear, the hostas were cut to the ground, rose branches were stripped of flowers and leaves, the Hydrangea ‘Annabelle’ was greatly reduced in size. Even the branches on the weeping cherry were stripped bare. cherrytreedeer

What could be doing this in the protected garden safely enclosed in fencing? Was it the work of the 17 year cicadas that appeared this summer or perhaps a very large rabbit? As I was eating a late dinner at dusk on the deck, I heard a creature in the garden but saw nothing. I went down the steps to investigate and watched the head of a beautiful male white-tail deer emerge from the woods and happily finish off the remaining hostas.

Creeping quietly around him, I discovered that someone had opened the back gate of the garden and left it ajar. This beautiful creature had been making nightly forays for at least a week into Lynn’s Gourmet Deer Cafe as I was busy teaching evening classes instead of working in the garden. The last time a deer entered the garden, it threw itself against the fence in panic when Angel gave chase. To avoid that catastrophe and to stay safe in the face of a healthy 6 point buck, I chose to open the gate wider and coax him quietly out. I spoke gently and made the encouraging noises I would use to coax a dog to my side. Intrigued, he stepped hesitantly towards me until he almost reached the gate, then paused. I quietly entered another gate behind him and told him firmly that it was time to leave. He looked at me over his shoulder, then trotted out out of the garden while I hurried to shut both gates. Only after he disappeared into the woods did I realize that I hadn’t thought to photograph him.

Every creature was designed to serve a purpose. Learn from animals for they are there to teach you the way of life. ~Suzy Kassem

My friend Mary Pegher takes amazing photos of the denizens of North Park, a 3000+ acre county park near our house; she graciously let me use her pictures of a healthy 10 point buck she had photographed this past week. Our deer fence serves to keep these wild creatures out of my garden but I cannot help admire their beauty. And like the deer in Mary’s photos, the one that ate my garden looked very healthy indeed. I’m sure that the nutritious food I provided will make him a favorite of the ladies this fall. I find myself amused rather than upset – the garden is entering its last phase of the season and will take no permanent harm. There is plenty to share and I truly feel graced by a gentle encounter with a magnificent animal.

Wildlife in the world can only be protected by the love of compassionate hearts in the world! ~Mehmet Murat Ildan

I admit that I worry about the wildlife in our changing world. Housing developments continue to spring up everywhere, displacing the creatures who once lived there, and climate change also disrupts sources of food and migratory habits. In spite of maintaining an organic garden and providing protected space for many different creatures, I see a dramatic drop in bees and other pollinators. Every chance to live in harmony with the natural world seems a small win for us all.

MPdeer2 Photo courtesy of Mary Pegher; you can see more of her work on Facebook at MLP-Photography.

If we can teach people about wildlife, they will be touched. Share my wildlife with me. Because humans want to save things that they love. ~Steve Irwin

composerinthegarden

Gardening in harmony with nature

Tag Archives: autumn