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Last But Not Least As the season turns, turn to stalwart perennials
We've started down the slippery slope to the shortest day of the year, and an appropriately obsessive reaction is to get out there and plant.
You don't yet need to suffer nursery withdrawal; plenty of perennials are still going strong. Plants just coming into bloom so late in the season are a perfect antidote to gardens looking a bit tired at the end of a long season. They may even revive the interest of equally worn out gardeners. If nothing else, they fill in some of those awkward gaps left by plants that suffered early decline, or cover up spots we forgot to water. Considering the pleasant autumns we've had the past few years, it is possible to keep the garden blooming until nearly Thanksgiving.
The taller sedums are so late and long-flowering as to define autumn bloom. S. spectabile 'Iceberg' is one of the palest, while S. 'Bertram Anderson' has vivid purplish-pink leaves and masses of rosy red flowers. For a double hit of pale, seek out S. erythrostictum 'Frosty Morn,' with fleshy leaves margined in white and shell-pink flowers. One of my favorites, in pots and in the ground, is S. telephium 'Matrona,' a stately sedum with smoky pink flowers fading to rust, shown off against large leaves tinted in lavender with purple veining. No sedum looks better with wheat-colored or darkly purple ornamental grasses than 'Matrona.' Be sure to mix some intensely colored perennials in with all these whites and dusky colors, like orange Chinese lanterns (Physalis alkekengi) with their curious papery puffs, the long-lasting orange-scarlet tubular flowers of gray-leafed Zauschneria californica, and the cobalt-blue bloom of dwarf plumbago (Ceratostigma plumbaginoides), plus plenty of autumn mainstays like hardy fuchsias and salvias. The best thing about late-flowering perennials is that they get you outside to enjoy the garden when it is most enlivened by creatures. Bees work furiously on any remaining flowers, squirrels forage, and birds delight in a buffet of berries as rose hips ripen and boughs droop with fruit. Mornings are misty, twilight sets in dramatically earlier each evening. All of a sudden we find ourselves turning on a lamp when we get home from work, rather than heading right outdoors to set a sprinkler or cut a rose. It's getting time to finish up the planting, take a rest before autumn clean-up, and realize the near-unbelievable fact it won't be long before nursery catalogs arrive in the mailbox and it will be time to begin the task of planning next year's garden. Clarification: As many of you have let me know, rhubarb leaves are poisonous. They contain oxalate, which, when ingested in large quantities, has proven poisonous. So they shouldn't be used as plate liners. The caterer featured in this column Sept. 7 uses horseradish leaves, not rhubarb, to line plates. Valerie Easton is a Seattle free-lance writer and contributing editor for Horticulture magazine. Her e-mail address is vjeaston@aol.com. |
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