November GBBD: End of the Season?

Every Midwesterner knows that November can be an unpredictable month. Often gloomy with gray, wet days that never end, this is one month I've often wished could be wiped off the calendar. Last year, however, was an exception. I remember planting bulbs, warmed enough by the sun that there was no need for a jacket, all the way till Thanksgiving. This year November has been a welcome surprise and relief after an unusually wet and dreary October. Although we have had frosty mornings, the sun usually brings the temperature up to a comfortable warmth. For example, yesterday I sat through yet another disappointing Illinois football game wearing only a sweatshirt and jeans.



The cold of October has brought the garden nearly to an end. Yet there are a few things still to enjoy for this November Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day:





There are the usual suspects for this late in the season, like the fall pansies sitting on the steps.

Or the potted mum carelessly planted in a container to replace the dying zinnias and heliotrope.

Or the lavender mum in the shade garden partially obscured by the dried feathery plumes of the heuchera.

More typical scenes in my garden, though, are like this one. Some of the Victoria Blue salvias are still showing some signs of their vibrant purple of early autumn, but most are fading to a silvery hue for the winter.

The hydrangeas are wilting and turning brown, but "Let's Dance in the Moonlight" is determined to give one last colorful hurrah before ending its season. I know you're probably tired of me showing yet another photo of this plant, but this fall I have been enthralled by the hydrangeas that have been almost as colorful in their final days as they were in their summer prime.

Looking for something--anything at all--still blooming in the shade garden one morning, I was sad to see that the Brunnera "Jack Frost" had finally succumbed to the frost. Or so I thought . . .

The next day, after a few hours of warm sunlight, I was surprised to see a full recovery! "Jack" is typical of what it is still blooming in my garden--what I call the "hangers-on."

Still hanging in there, protected on my back porch, is the Desert Rose begonia. This is one of the few plants that will be taken in the house for the winter--I've never had a begonia do so well for me as this one.

Another hanger-on is the "Homestead" verbena. It seems to actually enjoy the cooler weather, but here in zone 5 it is an annual so its time is limited.

The lamium, specific name now forgotten, is another plant unfazed by cool temperatures and is still setting blooms. If covered with leaves, it wil usually stay green all winter.

A few stray petunia blooms are also hanging in there, along with the helichrysum. Someone asked me about this plant on a previous post. It often goes by other names, such as licorice plant or mouse ears, and it is one of my favorite accent plants in containers.

Another tough plant is the sweet alyssum. I think all of these re-seeded from last year. They were getting rather leggy this summer so I gave them a "haircut," which gave them a new burst of energy for this fall.

There are a few surprises for this time of year, though. This is the first year I have planted lemon verbena, purchased early in the season from the local Herb Society's plant sale, and I don't think I've ever featured it here before. According to information on the Missouri Botanical Garden website, lemon verbena, Aloysia triphylla, reaches a height of 2-4 feet. Not to brag, but my plant is at least 5 feet tall! (Wish I'd moved that trampoline out of the background, though.)

However, the website also mentions that it has showy white flowers from June to September, but mine never bloomed. I'm not too disappointed, though, because this plant has done so well otherwise and provided much more than blooms. Every time I was in the Butterfly Garden I couldn't resist pulling off a leaf or two and taking in its heady lemony scent. While it can be used in making teas or desserts, I have only dried the leaves in hopes of making some potpourri. Unfortunately, while lemon verbena is a perennial in zones 8-10, it won't survive in my zone 5 garden. But I am going to attempt to root a cutting, and if that fails, I'll be back at the plant sale in the spring for a replacement.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised by the new lush greenery and pink blooms of the Achillea, or yarrow. This is a tough plant that is one of the first to bloom in the spring and one of the last in the fall.

But I was surprised to see these little violas blooming in the pot of now-spent dianthus. Did I plant these in here last spring and they've come to life again? Or did I throw out the dead spring blooms in this catch-all pot? Sometimes there are advantages to being forgetful.

Yes, the season is winding down, and for the next few months, I'll have to use some ingenuity to come up with a Bloom Day post at all. I'll enjoy the garden for as long as it lasts, admiring the seedheads of the daisy "Becky" and discovering right next to these dried up blooms . . .

A brand new "Becky" bloom!

You may have noticed a common theme throughout this post--throughout my flowerbeds are leaves, leaves, and more leaves.

Sometimes, though, it pays to pull back a few of those leaves to discover a final surprise underneath--a few primroses are blooming again! This can only mean one thing--only a few more months until spring!

Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day is the brainchild of the always entertaining and energetic Carol of May Dreams Gardens. For more Bloom Day posts from around the world, be sure to visit her.

ABC Wednesday: Quieting the Mind

This week's ABC Wednesday is brought to you by the letter Q, quite a difficult letter to represent unless you enjoy . . .

. . . Qigong

"Qigong is an ancient Chinese health care system that integrates physical postures, breathing techniques and focused intention."

The word Qigong comes from two Chinese words: Qi (pronounced chee), which refers to the life force or energy that flows through all things, and Gong (pronounced Kung or gung), which means skill or work. Thus, Qigong means "the skill of attracting or cultivating energy." The practice uses slow, graceful movements and controlled breathing techniques to promote the circulation of qi, or energy, within the body. Such movements can reduce stress, build stamina, increase vitality, and build up the immune system. Some practitioners believe it can even improve many of the body's functions, such as the respiratory, cardiovascular, and digestive systems. While not all agree on all its effects on health, Western scientific research has found that Qigong "reduces hypertension and the incidence of falling in the aged population."**

For the past two years I have been attending a weekly Tai Chi class at our local community college. Our instructor includes a Qigong routine in each session as a warm-up before practicing our Tai Chi stances and forms. The routine consists of slow movements that are simple enough so that you can really focus on your breathing during the movements. One very simple exercise is pictured above:

• Stand with hands in front of you, palms facing each other, several inches apart. Slowly bring palms to shoulder width, as though you are holding an expanding balloon. Bring hands back to first position, as though the balloon is deflating. Repeat four times, inhaling on the expansion and exhaling on the deflation of the "balloon."
  
  

While I don't know about the effects on the immune system or some of the other claims made by Qigong practitioners, I can attest to the fact that after going through the whole routine I feel more relaxed, and my muscles have lost much of their tightness. Focusing on my breathing drives any wayward thoughts out of my mind, and I am truly "in the moment." Because it is a great way of relieving stress, which has been found to contribute to so many illnesses, Qigong is bound to have a beneficial impact on one's health.

For an added benefit, try Qigong outdoors in a park, the perfect place to meditate and get your Qi flowing!

**Information taken from the website of the National Qigong Association USA.

The quintessential compilation of ABC posts for Q can be found here.

OOTS: Late, late Edition

"The best laid schemes o' mice and men

Gang aft a-gley . . ."

--Robert Burns

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions."

(Author unknown)

I've often hoped that the second quote is not true, because I am a person with lots of good intentions that somehow get sidetracked, or go "a-gley" in Burns' more poetic Scottish dialect. Thank-you notes are sent out months after they should have been, and replies to e-mails are lost in the swirl of thoughts in my brain. Last summer I participated in Veg Plotting's "Out on the Streets" meme about public plantings, but was late for the June deadline and vowed I would do better with the fall edition. But September came to a close, and I hadn't taken any photos. Then October went its way, and the photos I now had remained in the computer files while I chatted on about other things here that I'm sure must have been very important. I finally decided I may be very, very late, but I am going to show these photos before the snow starts flying!



On our trip to Gatlinburg, Tennesee last month, every shop had its own colorful display of plants. Not surprising since Gatlinburg is definitely a "touristy" town and would want to present a pleasant appearance to visitors. The only problem, though, was that it was as if the Chamber of Commerce had issued an edict: all outdoor displays must contain pumpkins, at least one bale of straw, and pots of mums. This was one of the larger displays, but smaller versions appeared several times on every block until it became rather monotonous.



Back at home, I intended to show the same plantings I had included in July from our little town, showing the fall colors of still-blooming cannas, goldenrod, and tall grasses that replaced the brighter blooms of summer. But it's hard to stand on a street corner here taking photographs without someone questioning my purpose. Perhaps if I had a better camera complete with a big lens, people would think I was taking a photography class. But with my little point-and-shoot, I could feel the curious stares of drivers passing by. In a small town every one knows who you are and doesn't hesitate to ask what you are doing. I found that out quite quickly last summer when I decided to dig up what I thought might be prairie phlox from a nearby ditch. Within days, two people stopped me at different functions and asked, "I saw you down in the ditch along the highway the other day. Um, just what were you doing?" I suppose it was divine justice that the prairie phlox I "stole" eventually died in my garden.







And so, I decided to venture a little farther from home to capture some photos on the street, driving to nearby Champaign-Urbana, where I could be just an anonymous photographer. All summer long, I had admired this planting situated in a narrow strip in front of the best Mexican restaurant in town. It looked much better in July with its profuse blooms than it does here in late September, but you can still see the cascades of petunias in this old wagon. A similar display in a smaller version of the wagon sat in front of a neighborhood bar a few blocks down the street, but I wasn't brave enough to park in front of the bar next to the busy street at 11 AM on a weekday:)




Some of the best gardening displays in town are on the campus of the University of Illinois.

This pathway edged with cannas, lantana, profusion zinnias, and other annuals is down the street from the Idea Garden that I've often talked about here and is representative of much of the landscaping around the University. Our football team may be losing and we may have scandals about admissions policies, but you can't say our campus doesn't look good!

There are quite a few parks throughout Champaign-Urbana, though most are quite small. Each of them has well-maintained plantings, but what I find most impressive are the mini-parks dotted throughout the twin cities. Driving through town, you'll suddenly notice a flash of color on a street corner.

These mini-parks usually consist of mass plantings of annuals like the lantana and red salvia pictured above. Though the plots are small, they provide an attractive diversion from the concrete sidewalks and parking lots. C-U is fortunate to have such an active Park District to maintain these small oases throughout the city.

Every Wednesday I drive into Champaign to attend my weekly Tai Chi class at our local community college, Parkland College. Not to be outdone by the much larger University, Parkland has a right to be proud of its own landscaping. I stopped after class one day to photograph this colorful planting.

Stepping closer, I was intrigued by the metal piece in the middle. Was this some sort of abstract garden sculpture? And what were those pieces of hose doing standing upright on the other side? I walked around . . .

Duh! It's a butterfly! Stepping back at this angle, I realized the whole planting was in the shape of a butterfly. Unfortunately, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't photograph the whole flowerbed to show its shape; an aerial view would have done the trick, but no hot-air balloons were available at the moment.

Again, I was a little self-conscious walking around the campus buildings taking pictures, but I did have to sneak in this photo for Carol. You may know how much she has warned against the "evils" of burning bushes, but I have to be honest--I love them in the fall. This particular planting, I thought, showed them at their best--and do enlarge this to get a better view. A burning bush can get quite large, as tall as a small tree, and oftentimes landscapers and homeowners don't take this into account when they plant them. But the landscapers here at Parkland must have done their homework and pruned these shrubs to grow as trees instead, making a fantastic show of fall color. I'm not sure what the pinkish tree in the foreground is--perhaps another species of burning bush?

Walking around the outskirts of Parkland's campus I found a few places I didn't know existed.

The gardens referred to on the sign above are actually gardening plots, available to anyone in the park district. Most of the vegetables had been harvested by the time I took this photo, but I did talk to one brave gardener on this cool day in early October as she looked for a few remaining tomatoes.

As I was leaving campus, my eye was caught by this field of grass.

The sign indicates this planting's purpose--I guess--but nowhere could I find a sign that identified the grass. Any ideas? This had to be the tallest grass I'd ever seen, easily reaching twelve feet or taller. This would certainly make a dramatic statement in a home garden!

This is just a very brief overview of some of the sights around town. But I realized as I drove along, looking for photo opportunities, that Champaign-Urbana is an area that realizes the importance of aesthetics, not just finances. From the university to the park district, well-maintained gardens and public plantings receive a high priority. It may not have mountains or other natural scenery, but C-U has created its own beautiful scenery.

ABC Wednesday: A Panoply of P's

This week ABC Wednesday celebrates the letter P, a perfect one for any Plant lover like myself.







While most of the Perennials, like these Purple Coneflowers, are now hibernating for the winter, there are still a few brave blooms in the garden.

The Pelargoniums ( I usually call them geraniums, but of course that doesn't begin with a P!) seem unfazed by the first frost this past weekend.

A few brave Petunia blooms hang on amidst the dying foliage.

The now Purple-tinged leaves of "Let's Dance in the Moonlight" add another dimension of color to this beauty queen who is aging gracefully.

Not to be outdone, even the "Endless Summers" are now sporting rosy-tinged foliage.

This year has been the prettiest I have ever seen the hydrangeas.

The Purple Petals of my poor confused clematis are undaunted by the cold.

A last trip in search of bargain plants yielded this basket of Pansies.

They look especially good with a display of Pumpkins.

And speaking of pumpkins, I have a confession to make. The photo of the jack o'lantern I posted last week was actually carved by my daughter last year, since I hadn't yet had time to carve one. The jack o'lantern above is the one I made this year. Not too bad, huh? It's actually quite easy to create intricate designs like this using a Pattern.

There are still gardening chores to be done, like planting bulbs and cleaning out Pots. This one, though, may stay like this all winter; it actually looks rather pretty covered with snow and provides some "winter interest."

And this sedum still needs to be transplanted to replace the one I suspect was eaten by voles. I couldn't pass this one up, purchasing it at the bargain Price of $.39!

P is also for Praying Mantis, of which we had much fewer this year than last. There were plenty of grasshoppers, though; I'm not sure if I were this guy, if I'd get too close to Mr. Mantis:)

And P is for Pine Cones, which are in plentiful supply here . . .

. . . thanks to all our Pine trees that stand guard around the Perimeter of our yard.

I would be remiss if I didn't include at least one Pet. Tarzan, my constant gardening companion, is just one of the pets here who make life always interesting.



And finally, on a much more serious note, P is for a Prayer for Peace.

Our community lined the streets on Tuesday to welcome home a fallen hero.

Let us pray that scenes like this will soon come to an end.

For a plethora of other P posts, check out the ABC blog hosted by Mrs. Nesbitt.

Garden Muse Day: Welcome, Sweet November

This Garden Muse Day I find myself with mixed emotions. Autumn seems to have passed by so quickly, and no single poem suits my mood. Instead, I've collected several quotes here that I hope will make some sense of it all.

"Nothing gold can stay . . ."

Part of the reason I'm feeling so uninspired is that October was a lousy month. According to state climatologists, this month was the second wettest October on record in our area, with almost nine inches of rain compared to an average of 2.81 inches of rain. In the first 28 days of the month, it rained on 19 of those days.

To add to the general depressing atmosphere, I've been laid up on the couch for the last few days with an apparent case of H1N1 flu, contracted no doubt from several days spent at school where normally healthy teenagers coughed over papers and desks, determined to "tough it out." The first two days I didn't even have the energy to read blogs, but rather spent the days watching a little daytime TV in between naps. (Anyone wanting to know about a specific past episode of NCIS should contact me--I'm sure I've seen each one at least three times now.) So you can see why I've been such a grouch.

"You must have been warned against letting the golden hours slip by;but some of them are golden only because we let them slip by." ~James Matthew Barrie

But I don't want this to turn into one of my "whine" posts; I think I do that often enough already. Besides, in all seriousness, when one reads the news about the number of flu victims hospitalized across the country, not to mention fatalities, a few days spent napping on the couch hardly merits self-pity.

"It is no use to grumble and complain;

It's just as cheap and easy to rejoice;

When God sorts out the weather and sends rain

-Why, rain's my choice."

~James Whitcomb Riley

Life is too short to cry about a day or two of rain or feeling under the weather. I realize that each time I read posts of blogging friends who are bravely undergoing rounds of chemotherapy or dealing with loss or other hardships. This realization really hit home this week when I learned of the fate of one of our high school alumni. This young man, the youngest of five exceptional brothers and sisters, all former students of mine, was killed in Iraq this past week. A college graduate with advanced degrees, he had served our country in Kosovo, Iraq, and Afghanistan, and received two Bronze Stars as well as many other awards.

"As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest
appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them." John F.
Kennedy

I am reminded that each day is a gift no matter the weather or circumstances. It is a time to enjoy the last few days of brilliant autumn color.

To appreciate the beauty of fading blossoms . . .

And changing foliage . . .

Even the many trees now with bare branches can be appreciated

for the better opportunities for bird-watching.

"Hope is that thing with feathers that perches in the soul

and sings the tune without the words and never stops... at all. " ~Emily Dickinson

Changes in temperature bring new wonders . . .

And a new definition of beauty.

“How beautifully leaves grow old. How full of light and color are their last days.”
--John Burroughs

It is a new day, a new month, and a chance to experience new things. The sun is shining, and my energy is returning. Welcome, sweet November!

"Autumn is the eternal corrective. It is ripeness and color

and a time of maturity; but it is also breadth, and depth, and distance.

What man can stand with autumn on a hilltop and fail to see the span of his world and the meaning of the rolling hills that reach to the far horizon?"

Hal Borland

Special thoughts of healing and hope go out today, too, for good blogging friend and faithful reader, Maggie May. May your news on Monday be good news.




For other thoughts for today, please visit the hostess of Garden Muse Day, Carolyn Gail of Sweet Home and Garden Chicago.