Autumn?

Despite the fact that I still can't really do any gardening and haven't done any for what seems like years but is actually only about 6 weeks, the garden is still hanging on to many blooms.  It seems reluctant to acknowledge that it's autumn and rapidly heading towards November, preferring to keep its late summer blooms.

The arbutilon still has buds on but will need moving into the greenhouse soon,

I don't remember sweet peas still flowering this late before

and the bedding fuchsias are still going strong,

as are some clematis.

Soon it will be time to protect the dahlias (I don't lift them and they seem to survive fine).

This salvia (Cambridge Blue) is still flowering well,

as is the hardy fuchsia.

But there are signs of autumn - this rose (Wollerton Old Hall) nestles amongst the decaying seed heads of the poppies,

Sedum (Red Cauli),

and this Japanese Anemone,

are surrounded by autumn leaves.

But I am still harvesting courgettes, generally only 3 or 4 a week now though,

and there are flower buds on the hollyhocks!

This little robin was singing his heart out,

he's clearly enjoying the mild weather.

Still Flowering (and a very tall Yacon)!

Whilst we know it's autumn and parts of the garden are looking very autumnal with the leaves changing colour

some plants don't seem to have realised yet.  Fuchsia Hawkshead is still in flower

as is the honeysuckle

several roses (this one's Aloha)

and a penstemon.

I'm especially surprised at the penstemon as it's very close to the Yacon which is showing signs of being frosted.

It was given to me by Fiona earlier in the year and has grown to well over 6ft!  I need to look up how to harvest and store and cook the tubers now.  It's not something I've eaten before, have any of you?

Autumn Jewels

When I was teaching we used to sing a song in assembly that started "Autumn days when the grass is jewelled", and my garden is definitely jewelled at the moment.

My beautiful snake-bark maple tree's leaves are turning glorious colours,

they lie in piles covering the paths and beds,

and sometimes rest for a while on other shrubs,

a tiny respite in their final journey.