Enjoying September — as the season ebbs
An interesting variety of solidago, otherwise known as goldenrod. Note the arching character of the many sprays. Like all goldenrods, it’s a bright yellow and quite tall.
To add to last week’s asters, here are some additional first-class plants for September, blooming until hard frost. The first of these, solidago, a variety of goldenrod, came into my life as one of those serendipitous garden accidents of which I am so very fond.
A number of years ago in a long-gone September, I was putting in a garden for a Westchester client and sat down on his stone wall to rest for a few minutes in the shade. Looking down across his woodland, I was surprised to see a small, dainty plant, only a few inches high with tiny yellow flowers, blooming away despite the shade. I asked him if I could dig a few, and having been given permission, took them back to our house and planted them.
The next year, in half shade and fed regularly, they grew to over three feet and bloomed profusely — long, arching stems of golden-yellow flowers arriving with the fall. I had no idea what they were but one of our ground crew did. I looked them up and yes, they were a variety, although I’ve never found their exact name, of solidago. They’re happiest in full sun, don’t really need to be fed and self-seed easily — actually, they are pretty close to a weed. In other words, hardy. They make good cut flowers, are disease-free in my experience and if they pop up in the wrong place, they don’t object to being moved. You can’t really ask much more of a plant than that.
Another contender for the title of September’s Best is a plant that many of our grandparents grew, often called “August lily,” whose proper name is Hosta plantaginea. It was first imported to England from China in 1790 and came to the United States afterwards. It is the most fragrant of all the hostas, featuring large white 5-inch blooms, enormous by hosta standards. Unlike other hosta varieties, which are usually finished by the end of July if not sooner, August lilies bloom, as their name suggests, in late August and early September. The plants are 2 to 3 feet wide and 2 feet tall. They prefer full shade but will tolerate sun here on the Island if given additional moisture. The fragrance is heavy and hard to describe. But since the plant does not lend itself to cutting, unless you have a large bed of them and can sit outdoors in a chair nearby, it’s more than likely that in the end the fragrance will be irrelevant.
With cooler weather, morning glories begin to come into their own, blooming more freely and increasing in growth. In yet another serendipitous error, I have two colors together (I don’t know how that happened) that I would certainly not choose — a blue and a sort of magenta. They have made their way along the same fence occupied by my nasturtium vine, whose flowers are a bright reddish-orange. On top of this, a late blooming clematis, the blossoms deep purple when new, fading to a nice lavender as they age, have twined right along onto the whole parade. So far they haven’t strangled themselves or each other, despite the fact that I haven’t had much time for them.
What amazes me is how glorious the color combination is. I’m so sorry that the column, due to our diminished size this summer courtesy of the recession, has rarely had color photos. I would love to show you what a pleasure this unexpected and unorthodox combination is. It makes me wonder some about garden decisions, and that perhaps mine have gotten too staid.
I’m currently designing a pool fence planting for next summer and it’s tempting to just go wild! Colors in nature seem to have no relationship to colors elsewhere, in clothing, paint or light. Maybe the idea of “mistake” doesn’t have a place there. What a nice thought.
