I went outside to unlock the garden gate and experienced a delectable whiff of perfume…Heaven! A few dozen fresh white clematis ‘stars’ had opened above the doorway arch and atop the long alley fence. Any minute these two huge vines would birth thousands more. In the main secret garden two more massive vines, comfortably draped along my shadier fences, are weighty with fat buds. One more sunny day will trigger spectacular changes. (If you long for a similar late summer show, purchase a Clematis terniflora in spring, dig a hundred-dollar hole for your twenty-dollar plant, and be prepared to wait three years for your reward. That old adage is apt: “The first year it sleeps, the second, it creeps, and the third, it leaps!” Except – a newly planted clematis is certainly not sleeping, but setting deep roots. Not much will happen above ground until it’s satisfied that there’s a huge, established root system below it.)
Anyway, as I stood there admiring all this, two tiny emerald green hummingbirds hovered directly in front of me before darting to selected flowers. Vividly marked monarch butterflies joined them. I watched, enchanted, as these airborne jewels dined. Inside the garden near the fountain five more exquisite little hummers dipped into big ruby-throated white hibiscus flowers. A cardinal’s red wings flashed against the golden chamaesyparis. My September garden is bursting with colorful treasures!
The view through the alley garden door now shows a big garden design change: I created a small English-style ‘park,’ complete with gazebo, when I downsized this spring. Ah, it’s so much easier to manage!
I’ve noticed that the usual blooming rhythm has changed this year: the hibiscus has never flowered so late. Tons of gorgeous blooms still decorate their boughs. And the giant purple-leaved canna lilies continue to produce huge orange flowers, as though it were July.
I’ll mow the lawn: just two days later it needs cutting again. The more usual timetable in September is 10 days or more.
A few daylilies are re-issuing gorgeous blooms, as well. Even the butterfly bush is still showing off cat-tail purple flowers!
The cool summer has been a boon to every living thing—and created a different problem. I’m absolutely overrun with rabbits! Six half-grown babies living under the huge Chamaesyparis bush emerge at twilight to frolic on my greatly expanded lawn. Right now a much larger rabbit- perhaps their mother- is nibbling fresh blades of grass nearby. These wretches have eaten many lilies, and every single pansy in the Ram’s Head garden, having adapted to the bloodmeal I’d spread around the area.
Every time Bryn and I walk around the block we see at least fifteen bunnies. She trembles, but thankfully won’t bolt. (Well, maybe once...)
Bryn, 18 months old, has learned much more English. She’ll listen, head cocked, as I mutter about running errands alone, and then go back to sleep instead of moving toward me expectantly. She knows she’s not included.
This week I’d decided to read on the front porch, as it was warm. Always before, I’d lead her out onto the grass to a long tether. Today was different.
“Lets relax on the porch! You won’t need the leash.” She studied me carefully for about 5 seconds, processing, then walked out the front door and turned right, ignoring the big front stair, to settle down by my usual chair. I stood there, open-mouthed.
A red and gold maple leaf fluttered down to land near her paws. A few more beauties followed, reminding us that our world is evolving, too. The lovely last lines from the song “The Summer Knows” come to mind:
…One last caress,
It’s time to dress
For fall.
Anyway, as I stood there admiring all this, two tiny emerald green hummingbirds hovered directly in front of me before darting to selected flowers. Vividly marked monarch butterflies joined them. I watched, enchanted, as these airborne jewels dined. Inside the garden near the fountain five more exquisite little hummers dipped into big ruby-throated white hibiscus flowers. A cardinal’s red wings flashed against the golden chamaesyparis. My September garden is bursting with colorful treasures!
The view through the alley garden door now shows a big garden design change: I created a small English-style ‘park,’ complete with gazebo, when I downsized this spring. Ah, it’s so much easier to manage!
I’ve noticed that the usual blooming rhythm has changed this year: the hibiscus has never flowered so late. Tons of gorgeous blooms still decorate their boughs. And the giant purple-leaved canna lilies continue to produce huge orange flowers, as though it were July.
I’ll mow the lawn: just two days later it needs cutting again. The more usual timetable in September is 10 days or more.
A few daylilies are re-issuing gorgeous blooms, as well. Even the butterfly bush is still showing off cat-tail purple flowers!
The cool summer has been a boon to every living thing—and created a different problem. I’m absolutely overrun with rabbits! Six half-grown babies living under the huge Chamaesyparis bush emerge at twilight to frolic on my greatly expanded lawn. Right now a much larger rabbit- perhaps their mother- is nibbling fresh blades of grass nearby. These wretches have eaten many lilies, and every single pansy in the Ram’s Head garden, having adapted to the bloodmeal I’d spread around the area.
Every time Bryn and I walk around the block we see at least fifteen bunnies. She trembles, but thankfully won’t bolt. (Well, maybe once...)
Bryn, 18 months old, has learned much more English. She’ll listen, head cocked, as I mutter about running errands alone, and then go back to sleep instead of moving toward me expectantly. She knows she’s not included.
This week I’d decided to read on the front porch, as it was warm. Always before, I’d lead her out onto the grass to a long tether. Today was different.
“Lets relax on the porch! You won’t need the leash.” She studied me carefully for about 5 seconds, processing, then walked out the front door and turned right, ignoring the big front stair, to settle down by my usual chair. I stood there, open-mouthed.
A red and gold maple leaf fluttered down to land near her paws. A few more beauties followed, reminding us that our world is evolving, too. The lovely last lines from the song “The Summer Knows” come to mind:
…One last caress,
It’s time to dress
For fall.