For the seven or more months of my gardening year, I see a lot of changes, a lot of color that comes and goes. From the first sign of awakening in March, to the late-spring larkspurs, the early summer wildflowers, the purple magnus echinacea, the lily tree forest, there is always some color in my yard to offset my struggle to keep things alive during the debilitatingly intense heat of the summers out here on the high plains.
Each of those comings of the various blossoms are to be celebrated — and I do, with a moment of appreciation (well, lots of moments!) and a photo f I remember.
Oddly, despite the beauty of those spring and summer gardens, this seems to be an area that favors fall gardens. There is generally a long, warm fall to pamper the plants as well as a lessening of the intensity of the sun’s rays. A few spring plants manage to put out a second-generation bloom. The echinacea as well as a few others develop lovely fall-colored seed pods that add dimension to the fall garden. The ever-blooming petunias still sing their colorful song. And, since my grass is a heat-resistant cool climate grass, its struggles to remain intact through the summer suddenly pays for my care with a joyful green lawn.
Luckily, I realized in my early gardening years that fall around here is conducive to gardens of vast color, so I thought to concentrate on fall plants, especially chrysanthemums.
And this year, I reaped those benefits.
So much color!
And such a joy, both in the experience and in the memory of those halcyon days of fall.
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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One
