Gratefully, Fall

After a hard summer of rampant garden growth (accompanied by rampant weed growth), and all the incumbent lawn-mowing that accompanies abundant rain, ProfessorRoush is more than ready for Fall and the garden is finally signaling that it agrees with me!    

In late August, we finally got the heat spell we normally get in July and the rain spigot shut down and the daytime temperatures reached >100ºF for a solid week and more.  The garden and lawn responded by ceasing growth, and the gardener of my garden (i.e. ProfessorRoush) breathed easier and skipped a couple of mowings.  In the style of the Old Testament or a Cecil de Mill's epic, one could say "A sigh of relief went up throughout the land."   That was the overwhelming feeling that I had, despite the heat wave and mini-drought, and I felt that the prairie was nodding alongside me.

Two weeks later, and the garden has changed.  The green hues are mixing with ochre and umber, and the prairie bluestem grass is beginning to withdraw nutrients from leaves.  It is cooler again now, the nights appreciably so, and we are likely weeks from the first frost, but you can feel the change in the air and see it in the plants.  Rain returned with the cold front, and I'll soon have to mow again, but I'm now sure that soon the first frost and cold nights that follow will rescue me.

The Sedum telephinum pictured on this blog entry is blooming merrily pink now, another sure sign of Fall's impending onset.  As you can see, it is attracting and nourishing these bumblebees, a final gift from the garden flora to its fauna.  This variety is either 'Black Jack' or 'Purple Emperor', which were planted near each other on my garden map.  I'm inclined to think it is the latter due to its height ('Black Jack" reaches 18-24", while 'Purple Emperor' only reaches 12 inches tall) despite the fact that this plant has not yet turned as dark maroon as either should eventually get.   Further evidence is that there is a nearby, shorter dark sedum and if that one is 'Purple Emperor', then they are planted in the same sequence as my map.  We'll call it 'Black Jack' anyway.

I've just had my first Sunday afternoon nap in weeks, another gift from the garden, and yet another sign that Fall, and inevitably Winter, are just around the corner.  The prairie winters are rough, but they are a needed respite from the frantic days of summer, and I'm grateful for now as the seasons progress.  And yet still sure that in a mere few months, I'll be reborn alongside the garden, and just as surely ready to embrace Spring.  I don't know where the bumblebees go in Winter, but I bet they will be eager for Spring too, stoked on Fall's larder after a long Winter's nap. 

Brown Out There

Geez, Louise, our fall color sure went away quickly.   It was looking at least a little fall-ish out there a week ago, oranges and russets and reds and yellows and browns everywhere, and now it's gone.   Fade to brown, fade to drab, goodbye leaves.   The weather doesn't show it as it's beautiful and sunny everywhere and still days where it hits 70ºF, but that last cold spell hit the trees hard. 

I'm still encouraged on some warm mornings by the occasional fogs, though.   We had one this week and it set the colors back in place.  Except for this little redbud volunteer off my back patio.   It has given up its leaves but it is holding on hard to those proliferate brown seed pods.   I'll have a bumper crop of redbuds next spring!

On my drive to work, I was struck by the wispy clouds on the east side of town.   This picture may not do it justice, but it was surreal in real life, a landscape draped in the middle of the sky.

I did notice, outside on this foggy morning, that my bald cypress looked particularly drab and around it, the warm morning looks somehow more like winter.   It normally has a little more golden color, but not this year.   Just yesterday, driving, I was listening to a Saturday morning garden show that comes from Topeka and the host was lamenting the lack of fall color in Kansas this year and whining about how fast the leaves came down.   He blamed it on the drought we've had in the summer and fall, and on the quick cold snap of a week ago.   I blame it on Kansas.

Not so bad, it is though, when the fog hides the greater world away and leaves me with a nice, sheltered, view of my garden.   And a warm feeling that it was a good year.

Sun, Clouds, and Glory

The changes in setting and mood according to ambient light sometimes astounds ProfessorRoush, particularly in relationship to photographs and camera settings.   Take, for instance, this 14 year old 'October Glory' (Acer rubrum) maple out to the left front of my driveway as I leave for work every morning.   On Veteran's Day this year, 11/11/2021, at 7:20 a.m., the sun was just rising up and 'October Glory' was, indeed, glorious in its observance of Veteran's Day this year.   I don't think I've ever seen this tree in better foliage and, as I leave for work, these mornings brighten my day and set me on a happy path through the weekly turmoil.   Thankfully, although the color diminishes somewhat over time, this tree holds its leaves through early winter.

On a cloudy day, however, the tree broods, begrudgingly showing only dusky purples against the brown prairie behind it, leaving my own mood murky and dark as I take that same morning path to work.   This picture, STDD or same-tree-different-day, 11/10/2021 and at the same time (7:20 a.m.), shows the dampening effects of clouds and winter.  The whole scene dulls my morning commute, leaving me dispirited and soul-worn to start the day.  I, for one, would much rather either leave in total darkness, as it was just last week before the annual "fall back" nonsense, than to leave to this sight on cloudy days.  Thank you again to our political so-called "leaders" for their misguided help in that regard.

The prairie is colored this year far better than most.   Always, in fall, we hear written or television media talking about expectations for fall color in various parts of the country, usually discussing the effects of moisture or warmth on sugar production, and often telling us that it isn't going to be an exceptional fall in the usual way of our depressing national media.   I have a friend, a former news-junky, who recently told me she had sworn off the news because it only reports stories that keep us riled up or upset about the state of the world.   So it seems and I cannot disagree.   But fall in Kansas has been exceptionally colorful this year and I'm thankful for whatever natural processes or the harvest gods that influence the beauty.   

Sunlight, however, helps always, and I'm thankful for the Kansas sun every day.  Searing in summer, spiritual in spring, fitful in fall, and warm in winter, this morning it streams in through all the windows of the house, warming the walls and making a home of house, a warm nest for a pleasant Sunday.  

Fall Foliaged Roses

'Morden Centennial' Hips

There is no doubt that I miss the roses when winter hits and the final buds shrivel as they decide it just isn't worth it to continue struggling through the cool days and cold nights.  I've been watching my garden carefully for the opening of those last buds, grabbing them greedily each night for a quick trip inside so we can still enjoy their beauty before Winter grips the Flint Hills.

Rosa 'Purple Pavement'

Roses, in the past and currently, have not been great contributors to the fall and winter garden.  Yes, there are a number of roses that provide some nice red or orange hips that contrast nicely against the snow.  There are also a few roses whose leaves, given the right fall conditions, turn a nice yellow or yellow-orange before they finally tumble down.  In my garden, 'Purple Pavement' is one of those roses that gives me a nice yellow before the leaves drop and sometimes it might even leave a nice juicy red hip or two around.  And gardeners in-the-know have been aware for a number of years that a few roses, such as 'Therese Bugnet', have a nice purple-red hue to their winter canes that even rivals that of the red-twig dogwood.

  

'Therese Bugnet' winter canes

The future, though, is bright.  Paul Barden has been talking about breeding new bright-red fall foliage into roses on his website and his blog here and here.  He's reporting good results from crosses of 'Therese Bugnet', R. foliolosa, R. solieana, and R. arkansana, among others.  He doesn't know what all the blooms look like yet, but with further breeding, I'm sure he'll end up with some beautiful four-season roses.  I didn't purloin the pictures, so you'll have to follow the links to get there, but make sure you take a look at them and while you do it, dream of an improved Knockout with bright red fall foliage to rival a burning bush.  Now if Mr. Barden can just improve the yucky red-orange color of Knockout in the process!  

P.S.  Yes, I've been a little slow posting the last 10 days.  Alas, preparing lectures and allowing for the twists and turns of life sometimes interfere with my hobbies.  Readers, please keep checking back when I get lax.