|The Autumn garden|
|Written by Lucy Hardiman|
|Wednesday, 06 July 2011 14:05|
My reward for living through the dog days of August is September — the gateway to autumn. Fall is my season. The equinox signals a shift in the rhythm of the seasons as plants begin preparing for their winter hiatus. Under sunny skies overlaid with amber the garden assumes a golden glow. As day length shortens and nighttime temperatures moderate, Mother Nature turns up the wattage for her seasonal finale.
This is the time of year plants dominate hardscape, dripping and spilling onto walkways and terraces. The outlines of pergolas, trellises and gates are disguised under ruffles of vines and climbers. Containers on terraces and porches overflow with foliage and flower — their last hurrah. By autumn, the garden has filled in, living up to the scale of its surroundings: big and bold, ebullient and joyful, lush and loud.
The full effect of a well executed autumn garden appears effortless. Trees and shrubs clothed in every shade of green assume star quality as they change into their autumnal attire. Arrayed in vermilion, plum, cordovan, crimson, russet, bronze and butterscotch, they play out the last act of the year. Perennials chime in with flowers resembling daisies, spears and trumpets in every color imaginable, while ornamental grasses dance in the winds of autumn waving delicate panicles.
I seldom encounter a plant I don’t like or covet. However the constraints of gardening in a small space force me to limit my acquisitions to those that enhance the overall design of the garden. Creating a garden that feels cohesive in every season is all about layering the garden with plants that stand out, each in its turn.
For most of us, trees are the most memorable and breathtaking sight in the fall garden. Who hasn’t gasped at the foliage of a purple-leafed Japanese maple igniting into fiery red-orange. Twenty years ago I planted two beautifully proportioned Japanese maples with green foliage. One died and the other, while coloring a rich burgundy, still disappoints because the color isn’t a flaming red. A little research into the fall color of specific named cultivars would have allowed me to make a better choice. Planting a tree is a long-time commitment. The right tree in the right place adds value to the house while it creates a canopy that provides shade and ornamental interest.
Shrubs are the main characters in the garden understory; they bridge the gap between smaller shrubs, perennials, grasses and the tree canopy. Deciduous shrubs with fabulous fall foliage or berries are threaded throughout my garden, linking all the layers of the garden together. The neon magenta-purple berries of Callicarpa ‘Early Amethyst’ (purple beautyberry) steal the show when paired with dusky black leaves and white flowers of Aster ‘Prince.’
Ornamental grasses add verticality and movement to the garden, contrasting with the more solid and staid forms of many shrubs and perennials. A stand of moor grass, Molinia ‘Moorflamme,’ is impossible to ignore when its mundane green blades turn into flames of purple topped by a haze of wheat-colored inflorescences. Moor grass is compact and a good companion for sedum and Itea ‘Little Henry.’
Perennials seduce me with their huge range of flower shapes, colors, fragrance, forms and textures. Helianthus ‘Lemon Queen’, a perennial sunflower, is a stalwart in my garden, blooming from August to the first frost. Standing tall at the back of a hot, south-facing border, it shines a light on surrounding grasses and shorter perennials and shrubs. The clear blue stems and flowers of Russian sage, another perennial with a long flowering season, reach up into the H. ‘Lemon Queen.’
As the leaves begin to fall, I savor the pleasures of autumn and anticipate seasons to come.