Sunday, October 4, 2020

October Gardens

I expected to see banks upon banks of chrysanthemums, begging to be photographed. But there weren't many this year. I also saw:

Giant Mexican Marigolds

Lantana Camara


A forkless variety of the American Toolflower.

Oh, go have your wedding somewhere else.


3 comments:

The Dude said...

I like those marigolds - I used to raise them and collect the seeds every year. They kind of devolve from their hybrid form to something more, well, primitive, I guess.

Maybe I should resume growing those - this year's experiment with lilies has worked out, the purple sweet potatoes are TBD as of today, and maybe it's time to grow something other than trees.

MamaM said...

Bursts of orange in the sunshine are a heartening October sight, while frost looms and the No of November awaits, one calendar page away.

November by Thomas Hood

No sun — no moon!
No morn — no noon —
No dawn — no dusk — no proper time of day.

No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease,
No comfortable feel in any member —
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees,
No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds! —
November!


Between now and then, the colors and green currently in view where I write this will be gone and that's a sad thing to contemplate. Some bracing orange helps! I"ll be bringing the Lantana inside along with the two pink Mandevillas, all on their third year with us. Also some of the geraniums which are a mess to keep over winter but result in some wonderful early blooms on the enclosed porch in March and April, before gardening outdoors is possible again. We're days away from frost now, with a warning issued last night that fortunately didn't land with a death blow on the deck. I need to make haste or live with the consequences.

I like this Shovelflower better than the spikey tined one, enjoying both however, along with the sight of the flowering bounty (and the restrictions, always restrictions up to the point of death by heat or frost) presented here.

Mumpsimus said...

MamaM: I just brought my few houseplants indoors; no frost yet, here, but 40s at night.

When my sister puts her plants outside in the Spring, she refers to it as "sending them to Summer Camp."