Tag Archives: fall garden

Outside the Gate

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I believe the future is only the past again, entered through another gate. ~Pinero

Outside the gateThe first thing visitors encounter when they come to my garden is the open space outside of the garden gate where the wild things roam – deer, rabbits, groundhogs, raccoons, and wild turkeys. The gardens have to withstand creature browsing of all kinds, so sturdy shrubs, trees, ornamental grasses and various herbs and native plants dominate the plantings. A terra cotta birdbath anchors the beds of herbs and native plants and the fences are lined with tall shrubs and trees that shelter and protect the garden behind the gate. This year, a self-sown woodland tobacco plant (Nicotiana sylvestris) makes a tall bold statement.

"Zelda" A narrow path along the north side of the house leads to “Zelda”, a face planter with golden Japanese forest grass (Hakonechloa) for hair, and then to a patio that used to be a fenced dog pen. This is a favorite summer dining and lounging spot, shaded by tall oaks and cooled by a steady breeze from the north.

Opening the gate draws visitors into the lush gardens within; the arbor surrounding it stands as a defining symbol for the liminal space between the outside and inside gardens. Part Two of Opening the Gate, here are a few images of the “outside” gardens as they appeared to my visitors a few weeks ago. (Click on any photo to see a larger image. All photos ©2014 Lynn Emberg Purse, All Rights Reserved)

If you only knock loud enough and long enough at the gate, you are sure to wake up somebody.  ~Longfellow

Opening the Gate

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Still round the corner there may wait
a new road or a secret gate.  ~Tolkein

gatefromdeckWPLast weekend, I opened my garden gate to a class from The Phipps, who came to see what a garden might look like in September. The weather was perfect, with mild temperatures, blue skies, and a soft breeze. Poodle pup Angel Eyes was a friendly greeter and my husband played guitar on the deck so that there was live music in the garden.

I love my garden every day and month of the year, and September is usually a lush and colorful display of flowers and foliage, so I readily agreed to open the gates to visitors close to the autumn equinox. Little did I know that, when I agreed to do this, the lower garden reconstruction would take place in late June instead of April and the wooden deck refinishing would be delayed until July. If you’ve lived through a home construction project, perhaps you understand the chaos and domino effect that even a small project creates. Nevertheless, I undertook additional tasks in the garden to make it visitor ready by September and though I was still tweaking things the morning of the tour, it made a good impression.

Still, when preparing for garden visitors, the gardener only sees what they haven’t done – our imagination sees what project we left unfinished, what flowers aren’t in bloom, what weeds we forgot to pull, instead of what is actually there. Fortunately, garden visitors only sees what is before them, unburdened by expectations, and hopefully will enjoy the experience. I took no photos of the garden until the next morning, when I could look at it with fresh eyes and let the camera tell the tale. There are so many photos that I’ll limit them to the lower garden this time, and show the remainder in my next post. I hope you enjoy your virtual trip through the September garden! (Click any photo to view a full size image; all photos @2014 Lynn Emberg Purse, All Rights Reserved)

Stone steps a few years later

 

I could happily lean on a gate all the livelong day, chatting to passers-by about the wind and the rain. I do a lot of gate-leaning while I am supposed to be gardening; instead of hoeing, I lean on the gate, stare at the vegetable beds and ponder. ~ Tom Hodgkinson (British author)

See (and listen to)  last year’s take on September in the garden at September Song, a song that runs through my head at this time of the year.

Second Wind

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Second wind – restored energy or strength; renewed ability to continue in an effort ~ The Free Online Dictionary

The rains came last night, the wind blew them in. When I went out at midnight with Angel, the air was still warm, pale clouds were threaded across the sky, and the insect chorus was heartily singing. I fell asleep by an open window, lulled by the unexpected sound of summer in October. But later I woke to the sound of the wind blowing the leaves and bowing the trees for hours, finally bringing a soft steady rain punctuated by acorns plunging from the trees onto the roof. It was a night to wake up often and listen, then fall asleep again with the wild sounds of the earth all around.

The garden lingers into fall, having gotten its second wind after the heat of summer. MIld days, alternating between warm slanted sunshine and entire days of rain and mist, have fostered a last round of bloom.  Even as copper oak and golden ash leaves drift into the garden beds, the bright faces of flowers blossom everywhere.  The purple asters and golden mums of the season have appeared right on cue, but roses, salvias and coreopsis are making a surprise grand finale appearance, along with the annual nicotiana and ageratum. The deep warm foliage of coleus and ornamental sweet potatoes have refreshed themselves after the scorching heat of August; their vibrant leaves trail and climb through the garden in a final burst of glory. Here and there a summer clematis flower pops up, an unexpected treat. The tall grasses are at their height of flowering, wands swaying in the slightest breeze, moving in tandem with the clouds overhead.

Bio-acoustician Bernie Krause coined the term geophony to describe the sounds of the rain, wind, thunder, surf – the music of the geosphere, as different from biophony, the sounds of the biosphere. Although the raucous arguments of crows and the chirping calls of chipmonks will continue year round, I can hear the shift from the biophony chorus to the predominance of the geophony orchestra. As the northern hemisphere swings into late autumn, the music of wind and weather is gradually taking the place of the creature choir that is the hallmark of spring and summer.

Here are some photos of the fall garden in its second wind. (click on any photo to enlarge it; that will take you into the gallery viewer – if you are on a mobile device, scroll up to see it)
Ageratum ‘Blue Horizon’
Apricot Griffith Buck rose
Aster Purple Dome
Sweet Potato Blackie
Blue Salvia
Blushing Knockout rose
Bonica rose
Bronze mum
Coleus Henna
Goldenrod FIreworks
Hydrangea Limelight
Knockout rose
Nicotiana
Peach salvia
Purple smoke bush
Rainbow shrub rose
Raspberry mum
Coreopsis Redshift
Rose de Rescht
Phlox Franz Schubert
Tradescantia (spiderwort)
Coleus and red Ipomea
Want to know more about soundscape ecology?
Whisper of the Wild – an article in the NY Times Magazine of sound ecologists recording the geophony of winter in Alaska
Wild Music – a traveling exhibition about the sounds and songs of life, including the work of many musicians and composers

October Reprise

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“. . . the report of my death was an exaggeration.”  Mark Twain

It is late October and copious rainfall, mild temperatures, and a few sunny days have conspired to keep the garden green, glowing, and full of flowers.  I expected the garden to be withered with frost by now, an eerily beautiful place of spent flowers, blackened leaves, and winter weeds.  I had planned for it, in fact, complete with a melancholy video to document the season’s end. But when I went to record the demise of the garden with my cameras, I couldn’t find enough source material to make my point.  Still attached to this idea, my expectations got in the way of my observations and I felt frustrated and stuck.  Expecting an end, I found a reprise instead.

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A musical reprise is a repetition of an earlier theme or song with some changes that reflect the development of the narrative line.  The October garden certainly is in the middle of its reprise.  The end of the season is near; perhaps in days, a hard frost will claim its due.  But for the moment, the garden is repeating its performance of roses, zinnias, salvias, and ageratum amongst the autumn theme of goldenrod, asters, and grasses.  Plants are tall, blooms are colorful and fresh, and everything is swaying in the gusts of wind that leap up from nowhere, showering the beds with a flurry of colorful leaves.  A final flourish that has challenged my expectations and reminded me to pay attention to, and appreciate, the unanticipated beauty that is before me.

All text and images of “October Reprise” ©2011 Lynn Emberg Purse, All Rights Reserved