Taking a bow for now. Hostas and a host of others
Autumn is in the air, but on some days (like, literally within the last half hour! It’s not forecast to last), looking out the window, you wouldn’t know it. We have had some lovely sunshine and hazy blue skies, but those days are becoming fewer and further between now. It’s generally getting wetter and duller. Temperatures are dropping too.
I do like the changes that the four seasons bring, though.
Each season has it’s highs and lows. With each transition, we say hello to some things, and goodbye to others. With each transition, I get another opportunity to evaluate, look ahead, experience different things, and hope. I’m getting ready for heavy cardigan and coat time now, as I begin to put my lightweight summer clothes into temporary retirement.
The rest of nature has long sensed the change and has been responding too. Leaves on some trees have started to change colour and fall. In fact, my beloved Mulberry tree has been a few leaves shy of naked for some time.
Mulberry leaves almost gone!
Sunflower heads have bowed their now browned as they dry out (or NOT, if the rain doesn’t let them, or I don’t take them under shelter soon)
Many of my tomato plants have given me the best of their goodness, and have started dying down, leaves and stems turning brown in the process. If I am able to, I’m going to try preserving some of the last crop. It’ll be a first for me. The foliage of my maincrop potato plants have started dying back too, indicating that they are ready to harvest. So, I’ll soon be saying hello to some reliably good, home-grown potatoes that make the most amazing chips! I’ll need to think about storage too, because I’ll have to make sure that I lift them all before first frost.
Maincrop potato plants, ready for harvest!
September 2020
Some plants are still going pretty strong though, like Zinnias, Dahlias, Erigeron, Leucanthemums and a few late Gladiolas too. My white Sweat Peas are flowering again (last hoorah!) and smelling sweet, as they do. Many rose bushes are still blooming too, though at nowhere near the levels of peak first and second flushes. With the exception of some rose bushes that will continue flowering sporadically throughout winter (if I let them), I have to accept that this is the last seasonal hoorah for all of these plants.
Leucanthemums, Erigeron and roses are hardy perennials, so they’ll be back next year. Unlike last year, I’ve decided to prune back my roses in the autumn as opposed to late winter the next year. So there’ll be no winter roses this time around. I want to give them a good break. I’ll take cuttings as I do this.
Zinnias are annuals, so I’ll save some flower heads and grow from seed next year. I’ll leave the Dahlias that are planted in the ground until first frost blackens their leaves (always a disturbing sight). Then I’ll carefully dig up the tubers and store them in a frost free place until it’s time to replant them next year. The potted Dahlias that I have don’t seem to need digging up, as long as they don’t remain sodden for long periods. I leave them in their pots where they are and they reliably spring back after winter. In colder parts of the UK, it’s best to dig up gladiola corms too. On my plots in London, I find that a thick mulch generally does the trick. At some point, I’ll have to deal with the issue over over-congestion as the corms divide and multiply naturally, and the weak blooming that can result next year.
In the world of horticulture world, both hobby and industrial, we can extend or change growing seasons altogether by growing in polytunnels and heated greenhouses. I’ve tried it before, not very successfully. None of that for me this year. I haven’t the wherewithall. What I will do is put the few tender and half hardy ornamentals that have somehow managed to survive years of exposure at the allotments into a cold greenhouse, cover them with fleece, and that’ll be it.
I have said an early goodbye to my hostas, too, as they begin to die back to just below ground for the winter. They are looking rather straggly now, and I’ve let the slugs and snails have at the leftovers of any leaves they might be interested in. I’ll clear away the damaged and dead leaves soon to discourage disease. Hostas are clump-forming herbaceous perennials — they’ll come back stronger the next spring. I must remember to mark their locations so I don’t damage their crowns as I weed or if I decide to dig and add other plants to the scheme.
My hostas did well this year, stood proud, their simple, ovate or lance-shaped leaves clothed in shades and mixtures of green, white, cream, yellow and blue. They produce lavender flowers in summer too! Hostas vary in size too, from the diminutive blue-leaved Hosta ‘Mickey Mouse’ which is no more than 6cm in height to the grand Hosta ‘Francee’ which can achieve a height of over 60cm when in flower. Most (not all) of mine are in a shady spot, growing amongst Meconopsis, Ferns, Lupins, Aquilegia, and other shade-tolerant lovelies.
My hostas and other shade-tolerant lovelies had a good spring and summer 2020!
And now that it’s time for some plants to take a bow …
This hosta is dying back for a winter rest
September, 2020
Finally, if I needed further convincing of the arrival of the new season, I got it — in the form of two autumn-flowering crocus blooms! They popped up between silver-leafed Brunnera macrophylla plants about 10 days ago, when I made an increasingly rare visit to the allotment. I had completely forgotten that I’d planted them.
SURPRISE! Autumn-flowering crocuses amongst silver and green Brunner macrophylla leaves — a very pleasant surprise indeed!
Having extolled the virtues of seasonal change, I must say that I have been stuck indoors for a few too many days on the trot now, due to the wet weather, Covid, and for other reasons. Looking back at some of the sights I enjoyed on my plots this year has been helpful. Making mental notes of all of the tasks that I’ll need to undertake this autumn /winter — a little less so.
