Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness

 I don't remember the Gillenia Trifolata looking quite so good this time last year, but maybe seeing it in its prime across summer cleansed me of the memory. Autumn has a tipping point between decadence and decay and my garden is demonstrating that at the moment.

On another note here are my new black-stemmed bamboos which arrived by mail order last week and which I have potted on today in larger pots. If they survive the winter I am planning to plant them up in glamorous new pots (yet to be purchased) and use them to screen the decking to make it more private. Planting them in pots means they won't take over the beds - hopefully they will last the winter as I've not had much luck with bamboo in the past

While autumn may mean the slide towards decay for most plants, others are just coming into their own. The jasmine has freshened up and is going even more crazy by twining and reaching. And the pinky buds above are the precursor of the scented white studs we will see soon.

Normally I wouldn't be able to bear the drooping and decaying rose blooms, but decay suits Compassion because it mimics the old gold edging of the petals in late summer.

But some garden stalwarts look good in all seasons and lights - my love affair with the Eucalyptus continues.

Day Trip to Buchlyvie and the Scottish Home Counties

Made a lovely trip today from Edinburgh Waverley to Milngavie by train (drinking coffee and reading magazines in the sunshine of the train compartment was bliss. The wonderful Su picked me up from the train station and drove me through Killean and the Duke's Pass to a lovely pub for lunch. Then we visited her cottage near Buchlyvie for a lovely pot of tea and finally she dropped me back the the station.
Much chatting and catching up was had and in the process I feel like I've had a mini-break.

Sweet Pea, I Love Thee

Photography purists beware! Here come some very poor quality shots of my sweet pea hanging basket. I'm just happy they flowered and am not worrying about the fact that the flowers didn't come on the plants I grew patiently from seed.

So the moral of the story is that whatever you want them to do, plants often do something else but there is always the potential for surprise. Oh, and while I may have given up on bluebells I will never give up on sweet peas and will try again next year.

You can start to see the colours change

So, for all those lavender obsessives out there, here are some shots of September lavender. The bees are still making the most of the flowers and I am slowly clipping them off to dry indoors. The lavender has bucked the trend this year and still delivered scent, greyish and graceful foliage and lovely spires of flowers. Yes, I am a member of Lavender Anonymous.




Like much of Britain, we've had some rather rough storms over the last few days and several of the plants look like they've had a buffeting. I popped out at the back this morning with my coffee and found the Eucalyptus had fallen over but luckily potted trees are easy to right so we're back on the vertical again.

 I bought several plants in hot colours for the front garden earlier this year without paying an awful lot of attention. This one has now flowered but I'm not really sure what it is. I tried to brighten up the front with Sweet Williams and Pansies for a last ditch attempt at colour before winter. They are still hanging in there but are looking rather bedraggled.

So after all the failures with the carefully chosen and raised from seed sweet peas, there has been success! M&S's sweet pea hanging basket which was my birthday present from Laura in June and planted in a frankly slap dash manner. Some pastel beauties livening up the front window. I may need to do a whole post on them. Reader - you understand their significance.

 Just had to unfurl the clematis from the other side of the wall. As you'd imagine, rather shaken by the gales.

As is the prairie grass who has moved from 'summer's hazy blue-ish tone to a more yellowy shade.











The Jasmine seems to have survived well though and is looking lovely lit by the sunshine. I took this photo half an hour ago and the sunlight is already gone and the skies are pressing down on us again.

Here is the lush back bed demonstrating perfectly that change through the colour spectrum that we are seeing everywhere just now.

And finally here is the righted Eucalyptus enjoying the brief, thin sunlight.

Evocative Autumn

For me there is no season as evocative and laden with nostalgia as autumn, and poets and writers have through the ages been inspired by this time of year. In many ways it is a depressing time as all too brief summers and holidays come to an end with the inevitable back to school/work looming large. As a gardener it is even worse as you are going to see all your beautiful plants die and nothing coming to replace them. Of course, we are supposed to see it all as part of the earth's diurnal progress and the natural way of things: "See the beauty in the withered foliage and dried seed heads". Well I try, but sometimes it can be hard when gardening has to stop for 4 months of the year. This is symbolised for me when Gardener's World stops for the winter (heartbreak). But you can't fight the inevitable so I try to give in gracefully but am mutinous inside.

But despite all of that and my disappointment that summer is over (or never came in some cases) I love autumn, and today is a great example. Because it is still early in the season I'm having my breakfast in the garden still and most of my plants are still with me. The temperature is decidedly chillier but still entirely acceptable. It's the light though - Strong and yet weak, shining through the foliage of grasses and climbers to create fascinating patterns of shadows and illuminating the plants in a way that is more unexpected because of its irregularity. I think I will need to get the Photographer General out to take some atmospheric autumn photos.

Autumn - depressing and yet beautiful. Isn't that often the way?