Forget-Me-Nots (Myosotis sylvatica). I have these blooming now by the hundred everywhere I look, sun or shade. These lovely low-growing blue (or sometimes pink or white) flowers self-sow bountifully. They prefer rich moist soil and will do well in sun or shade. Because they come back from seeds so easily we let them bloom, then often pull them out like weeds to plant something else.
Swamp milkweed (Asclepias incarnata). Related to ordinary milkweed, this likes moist soil and full sun. Unlike the wild one, this does not send runners out and spread by root. Mine get 3- to 5-feet tall, and come in pink or white. Readily available at garden centers.
‘Henry Eiler’ Rudbeckia. One of the latest flowers I grow. Petals are distinctive: they have space between each one, like missing teeth. Tall, often 6-feet or more. Needs to be staked early, or perhaps cut back in early June to reduce height. Blooms past frost. Full sun, rich moist soil.
I have lots of jewel weed (Impatiens capensis) in partly sunny to shady flower beds that have rich, moist soil. It is a native plant, but one that can take over if you let it. I recently removed some that was well over six-feet tall. It was in a bed with tall perennials, and I guess it outgrew them to get more sunshine, In other places, where the completion is minimal, it might only get 3- or 4-feet tall.
So what can you do with those empty spaces where you cut back flowers that have declined to the point that they needed to be cut back? Depending on the spacing, you might be able to fit in some chrysanthemums or fall asters. These are sold in bud or bloom in pots in grocery stores, farm stands and garden centers. They will bloom for weeks so long as you do not let them dry out. Fall asters are in the same category as the more common mums: inexpensive and lovely for filling in empty places.
I can’t plant mums where I’ve cut back that big bleeding heart, for example as I would damage the roots if I dug there. But I can place them in a nice ceramic pot and set it gently in the same area as the bleeding heart, though perhaps a little forward or back from the stubs of the stems. Yes, it is work to do so, but it is worth the effort if you have it in a prominent spot that you (and your visiting friends and neighbors) will see.
Tall flowers are flopping over now, particularly if we get a heavy rain. I grow a black-eyed Susan, Rudbeckia ‘Henry Eiler’ that has gorgeous, unusual blossoms, but it grows to be over 6 feet tall. I surrounded the big clump with hardwood stakes a month ago and tied string from stake to stake to support it. Recently I tied another tier of string higher up on the 6-foot stakes to prevent flopping.
What about the lawn? By Labor Day it may be looking pretty shabby. I don’t believe any of us should waste water on our lawns. If you have a sunny yard with sandy soil, your lawn may be looking yellowed and dry. Crab grass, an annual that fills in where the lawn is compacted by foot traffic, is declining or dead by now in most places. My solution? Hope for rain, and try to avoid looking at the dead spots. Enjoy looking at that medal-worthy garden of yours!
This year I have some new plants in my primrose garden given to me by a new friend and fellow garden writer, Judith Irven of Goshen,Vermont (https://
I have at least 4 other kinds of burnet, starting with a little one with variegated green and white leaves and deep maroon flowers (Sanguisorba officinalis var. microcephala ‘Little Angel’). I have others that grow 2-feet tall, and one that is 4 feet tall, both probably varieties of S. officianalis. The taller ones I tie up with stakes and strings by mid-July to keep them from flopping. A single plant will grow to be a big clump, taking a space four feet wide.
I am still looking for a burnet called ‘Lilac Squirrel’, a variety of S. hakusenensis. The name, and blossoms that resemble pink boas, are too outrageous not to want one. If you have one, please email a photo. Like all burnets, it likes moist soil and sunshine, from what I have read. It is hardy to Zone 5 – minus 20 in winter.
Another interesting genus is Persicaria, the fleece flowers. I have two species, P. polymorha or giant fleece flower and red bistort or mountain fleece (S. amplexicaulis). Giant fleeceflower makes a clump 6 to 8-feet tall and wide, with white blossoms a bit like astillbe blossoms – on steroids. The stems are an inch wide or more, but hollow like Japanese knotweed. The nice thing about it is that the flowers look good even after they have gone by, so 2 months of beauty is a given. Moving one is hard work, so plant it where you have plenty of space for it.
I have mountain fleece under the apple trees in my primrose garden, and the red bottle-brush flowers are just coming into bloom on 3- to 4-foot stems. The leaves are large, pointy and heart-shaped. Like its cousin, the bloom time is long: from now through much of the fall.
There are plenty of wildflowers that do well in moist shade. Prime among them are Jack-in-the-pulpit, red baneberry, trillium, and ramps. I grew up in Connecticut where there was skunk cabbage growing by our stream, and I bought a small clump some 25 years ago at The Garden in the Woods in Framingham, Mass. What a difference a couple of hundred miles makes. This early-spring bloomer has only recently achieved full size! I attribute that to the climate.
Many plants that grow well in ordinary garden soil will thrive in moist soil, too. I have Black-Eyed Susans (Rudbeckia spp.) that love my moist, sunny gardens but would be equally at home in drier soil. My favorite is Henry Eiler, one that blooms late and has very distinctive blossoms with the petals unnaturally far apart.
If you want to grow a shade-loving plant in a sunny location, you will have a better chance of success if the soil is also moist. Even then, not all succeed. But if you have space, and a willingness to experiment, your flowers may surprise you.
Henry lives in Cornish Flat, NH. His e-mail is henry.homeyer@comcast.net.
Big yellow buses are growling as they lumber down country roads, delivering their children to school. Soft serve stands are warning of imminent closure. Favorite flowers are finishing their blooms. Sigh. Fall is here. But don’t despair: there are plenty of colorful plants to fill vases and warm our hearts. Let’s look at a few I like.
Most of us have black-eyed Susans (Rudbeckia spp.) of some sort blooming now, either wild or planted. ‘Goldsturm’ is one of end most common, a nice one that has branched stems loaded with blossoms. But do you know one called ‘Henry Eiler’? It is much taller, and has narrow petals spaced out around the blossom, giving it an airy look. For me it blooms well into October. I have a big clump several years old, and need to tie it to keep the 5- or 6-foot stems from flopping. ‘Prairie Sun’ is wonderful one with a green eye that blooms consistently from July to after Halloween.
Turtlehead (Chelone lyonii) is one of my favorite fall bloomers. Each stem has numerous pink helmet-shaped blossoms an inch long that resemble, well, a turtle head. I love it in part, because it attracts bumblebees that force their way into the blossoms and disappear. I can hear them buzzing inside the blooms.
It does best in rich soil that is consistently moist to wet, but will grow in less desirable soil. I recently saw it on the Maine coast growing in hot, dry sandy soil, though it was much shorter than the 4-to5-foot stems I have. I grow it in full sun and also light shade, and each year the clumps get bigger. I never have trouble with it flopping, but have read that can be a problem in shady locations.
Joe Pye Weed (Eutrochium purpureum) is a native wildflower that appears alongside streams and in wet places. It can be grown in average garden soil, but if it is a dry location, some shade will help it. The small flowers are a pinky purple arranged in panicles that are about 6-inches across. The stems, a dark purple to almost black, contrast nicely with the deep green leaves.
Joe Pye weed is a big plant that requires lots of space. I have one clump that is now more than 8 feet tall, though 6 feet in average garden soil is more the norm. ‘Gateway’ is the best of the named cultivars, I think, but I have heard that a smaller variety called ‘Baby Joe’ is only 3 to 4 feet tall and 2 to 3 feet wide. I’m looking for one to try, as Gateway is too big for most beds. Moving a mature clump is almost impossible without a back hoe – or dynamite. I did it once, and won’t again.
When find a flower I like, I collect other species of the same genus. So it is with the burnets. First I planted Canadian burnet (Sanguisorba canadensis), our native species that grows by streams and wet places. It has white bottle-brush flowers on stems 4- to 6-feet tall in a wet area near my stream. It will bloom well into November.
Other burnets that I grow vary from a 6-inch tight cluster of variegated leaves and tiny burgundy blossoms to 6-foot tall plants with deep burgundy bottle-brush blossoms. Sanguisorba obtusa and S. stipulata are two of the species I grow, though the plant tags are long gone, so I’m not sure which is which. The foliage for most of the summer is very nice. I grow burnets in sun and rich garden soil.
Blooming now, obedient plant (Physostegia virginiana) is one of the least obedient plants I have grown. I have banished it to the edge of the woods in areas that would otherwise be just weeds. The pink or white flower spikes are great cut flowers, but the plant just won’t sit still. Its roots move fast, colonizing and pushing out well behaved plants. And it is tall: 3 to 8 feet!
The variegated form, however, is not a thug. It grows just to 3-feet tall; it does tend to flop, but it blooms later and doesn’t attempt to take over the world. It too, has pink flowers. Worth trying. Mine is yet to bloom this season.
Although I am a little far north to make my Arkansas amsonia (Amsonia hubrechtii) as big and bodacious as it is in places like Pennsylvania, it is still a great plant. Its steely blue flowers in June and July are nice, and the finely cut foliage is good all summer. But in the fall it excels: its leaves turn a lovely yellow that would make the plant worth growing, even without any flowers. Mine now stands nearly 3 feet tall and wide, and it gets even bigger in warmer locations.
Lastly I have to tip my hat to all those wonderful hydrangeas. Hybridizers have developed so many different named cultivars that I can’t keep track of them all. I’m not talking about the blue one, mysteriously called ‘Endless Summer’ which should be ‘Endless Disappointment’. It often fails to perform well after year one.
The classic PeeGee hydrangea has big white clumps of flowers that, if cut now, will look good in a dry vase all winter. And I love the pink ones like ‘Pinky Winky’ and ‘Pink Diamond’ (my personal favorite). ‘Limelight’ is a white blossom with green overtones, another great one.
So go to your local, family-run garden center and ask what they have that blooms now, and until late fall. Your garden doesn’t have to be dull now.
Next June I hope to help lead a Viking River trip down the Seine from Paris to Normandy. Interested? Just e-mail me at henry.homeyer@comcast.net. I’ll be giving garden talks in the evenings, and we’ll see Monet’s garden along the way.
Frost was late this year. It was nearly mid-October before we had a hard frost, one that murdered the zinnias and blackened the basil. For me, hard frost is a day to mourn a little, to spend a few moments missing the summer that passed, for the tomatoes that brought me such great pleasure and the flowers that graced my table.
But autumn is grand, too. I still have plenty of garden veggies to harvest and process, and those fall days full of sun and a few monarchs are full of surprises and delights.
I’m always delighted by plants that bloom now –especially woody plants. I have two witch hazels (Hamamelis virginiana) that bloom subtly each fall. The blossoms are not obvious because they are small, yellow, and their leaves are yellow (and green) and have not yet fallen. But those curly blossoms will persist even after the leaves have dropped. Witch hazel is a native tree that lives in shade or part shade. It’s a small tree or a shrub, depending on the variety. It blooms either now, or in very early spring.
Another interesting shrub in bloom now is disanthus (Disanthus cercidifolius). Although most books describe the flowers as “insignificant”, I disagree. They are small – just half in inch across, and close to the stem – but they are in pairs, back to back, each like a small purple starfish. I‘ve had my disanthus for 4 years, and this is the first time it has bloomed, or at least the first time I have seen it bloom. So I yelped with excitement when I first saw the blossoms.
The best thing about disanthus is the leaf color. The leaves are deep red and purple, and have been so for many weeks. The color is better than that of the now prohibited invasive, burning bush (Euonymus alatus). But unlike burning bush, disanthus doesn’t litter the countryside with babies like a stray, unspayed dog. It stays in one place, and grows slowly to a 6 to 10 foot height and width.
In the flower garden my fall asters are about done, but I still have one Rudbekia or black-eyed Susan looking great. It is Rudbeckia subtomentosa, a variety called ‘Henry Eiler’. It’s taller than I am. Its petals are very delicate and are spaced apart in an airy fashion. The stems of this plant are quite thick, but not thick enough to stand up to fall winds without staking.
Grasses are nice now, too. They generally bloom in fall, producing subtle green flowers that most people don’t recognize as flowers. My favorite grass is a Chinese feather grass (Miscanthus sinensis), a variety called ‘Morning Light’. The leaves have a central white stripe and each stem stands up 4 to 6 feet, or even more. This grass will look good all winter waving above the snow.
Each stem of feather grass has 20 or so thin strands of flowers that will produce seeds. This plant does not reproduce from seed, however. The clump gets bigger each year, and can be divided to create more plants. I’ve read that the time to divide it is in the spring, not now.
The milkweed plants I started from seed this year stayed small and did not flower. But I will harvest some seeds elsewhere and plant some more. The seeds need a cold period before they will germinate, so planting outside now makes sense. Last spring I planted seeds in flats indoors, then put them in the fridge for 6 weeks before they would grow. The red milkweed I planted the year before did great this year, blooming and attracting pollinators. I will plant some of their seeds when I see the pods are ripe and ready to burst open.
I’ve cut down some of my perennials, and pretty much all are ready for the knife or shears. I’ll leave things with stiff stems and interesting seed pods for winter viewing and as food for the birds. But the more I can do now, the better. One landscaper told me she figured that every hour of fall clean up reduces spring work by three hours.
One of my last tasks each year is to run over the lawn with my lawnmower, chopping leaves into perfect mulch. I rake it onto a tarp and pull the tarp to my vegetable garden where I spread the leaves over the by-then weeded beds. It keeps weed seeds from germinating in the spring, and adds organic matter to the soil as it breaks down and is eaten by earthworms.
My gardening friend and fellow garden-book writer Sydney Eddison of Connecticut always saves her chopped fall leaves in contractor bags and uses them in the spring on her flowers. I have filled up 6 huge plastic bags with grass clippings and leaves another friend gave me, and have stored them in the barn for use in the spring. Sydney Eddison has the best soil I’ve ever seen after mulching with chopped leaves for 40 years or so.
Don’t forget to plant your spring bulbs now, too. You can plant into November, but it will be cold by then, so get going!
Read Henry’s blog at https://dailyuv.com/