Did you know it's October? Neither did I. I went outside a few days ago and saw what you are about to see. Finally, after four years, the troublesome upper slope of the garden is starting to fill in--and I purposely have it as fall blooming so I can see it from the house, as if on a stage.
Bald cypress (rust), Aster 'October Skies' (blue), Amsonia (yellow), Sedum (red), Baptisia (green)
You might think this tired and worn, but I find the above view stunning and rich--a haven for winter birds.
A view from the deck.
This is our west fence, and it always provides a bucolic view I'm envious of, since it's not visible from any of the windows.
L-R--Viburnum nudum (red), Miscanthus 'Nippon' (white), and the Asters and Amsonia.
The last few days have seen warm temps, and in conjunction with the asters blooming, a final resurgence of butterflies. Yesterday we even had 5 monarchs on the Aster 'Purple Dome,' surely their favorite fall nectar source. This garden pleases me immensely (though it isn't perfect--every year only one part of it is, and since this is a drought-like fall, the shrubs aren't as showy, but the flowers are doing well). As I garden year after year, this small landscape teaches me more and more about my own fleeting existence. It was just yesterday that the coneflowers bloomed; it was just yesterday when I got my first car and headed off to college.
I can't wait to see how plants mature next year, but I know too they won't last. As I get older, lust turns to love, looking to the future becomes patience and looking to the now. It's a slow process, and I'm sure I won't have even begun to learn it when I'm old and (more) crotchety. But at least with my hands in the soil I can temper my humanity--a good thing, even as an owl hoots from dark trees as the last bit of light settles behind them.