A Light On for October

Suddenly, we're into definite autumn, as October has sneaked into play while I've been mulling over work, upcoming surgery, and other exasperations. The month blew in with a little presentation of wind and rain, mostly wind, to further irritate the already weather-beleaguered garden and gardener. 

Despite the vagaries of weather, there are still some wonderful floral and foliar surprises to be found here at Sunflower Hill. The sunflowers are done, but the Sweet Autumn clematis has come into bloom. 

All the helenium is doing fabulously. I have this perennial in several sizes, from the more compact types that grow only 1-2 feet tall to the towering yellow variety in the back garden that is five feet and more in height. 

This luscious, deep red one is my absolute favourite, however. And there's some Spirea 'Crispa' in flower near it, with magenta blooms that add a nice contrast. 

Another star performer this year has been the catmint, which is still blooming pretty well nonstop since it began in late spring. It's not a hugely showy plant, but I love its grey-green foliage and the lavender-like flowers, and it's become a large clump this year. Probably because the late lamented Tigger isn't around to chew it down to the roots. I'd sooner have Tigger here...still miss him deeply, especially when I'm working in the garden. 

My favourite tall phlox, David, just keeps right on blooming, even though some clumps had many of their flowers blown OFF this weekend. There are other phloxes still flowering, but the pure white flowers and awesome scent of this one makes it the winner in my books. 

Speaking of Davids, my favourite solo musician has released his new single, and it's promising to be a terrific hit. It's called 'Light On' and you can listen to it at his official website or purchase it from iTunes. There will be a video for it in coming weeks, and his new album will drop on 18 November. I love the new single because to my mind it's all about hope, and that's something we need, at this time of year and this particular year in general. Despite that, the song does make me soggy at times, especially when I see tribute videos such as this one. Have the tissues handy if you do go look at it. 
Back to the plants, now! This is a Canadian bred miscanthus, 'Huron Sunrise'; Rob Baldwin gave it to me several years ago and it's turning into a handsome clumping showpiece of this time of year. Other miscanthus varieties aren't always so well behaved; I have one that will need dividing and moving to a larger spot come spring, as it's getting a bit overexuberant for where it's located. 

Echinacea 'Green Envy' continues to put out new flowers, even though the weekend gale beat down some of its stems rather harshly. I've been so, SO thrilled with this coneflower's performance in the past two seasons; it seems hardier and more vigourous than most of the Big Sky series, so that bodes very well for becoming more and more popular. 

Although the butterflies and hummingbirds have departed for warmer climates, sunny mornings such as this see the bees out in full force. 

Our various sedums are coming on nicely, with Autumn Joy showing off its richly coloured flowers. 

I grow sedums as much for the foliage as for the flowers, as they make such a terrific colour display. These would include 'Frosty Morn', 'Angelina', a tricolour variety and the original spruce-blue sedum from which 'Angelina' is a sport (if I remember correctly).


Purple flame grass is another perennial grass I grow mostly for its foliage, though its just-emerging flowerheads are an added bonus too. This one has also remained politely clumping. 

The barberries are beginning their foliar fireworks in earnest. This is 'Nana Aurea', showing even better autumn colour than it did last year. 

'Coppertina' Ninebark is showing off handsomely as well. Last week a gardener asked me if I'd had any mildew in my Coppertina, and I said I hadn't; have any of you had this problem? 

Limelight PG hydrangea never disappoints me, and this year her flowerheads are enormous, and the plant's growth incredibly vigourous. I can see some pruning in the works for next spring, lest she block my office window completely. 


Simon Q Snark has the right idea; October is the time for starting to huddle in warm slippers, basking by the wood stove and dreaming of lovely days and cool nights and gardening adventures yet to be explored. That keeps a light on in my heart at the best and worst of times.