Beyond the garden gate lies a world of secret beauty and passionate obsession.

Sweet autumn clematis (Clematis paniculata) blooms every October, reminding me why I grow the rather piggy, lackluster, sprawling vine that threatens to blanket everything in the west border.

An old school snowball viburnum, viburnum macrocephalem, adds warmth to west border in autumn. Viburnums are agreeable, easy to grow, and come in a vast variety of useful shapes and sizes. Some have exquisite perfume, some glossy evergreen leaves, and some have wonderful fall color. Every section of the garden has at least one member of this shrub family.

My favorite Japanese maple looks good every day of the year, but it comes into full glory in the fall, setting fire to the front border even on wet, cold, gray days.

Cape Cod asters spilling on to the front lawn. White flowers are one of my biggest weaknesses. By and large they’re divas, weaker, and more demanding than their more colorful counter parts. But, they are lovely. Or maybe, I’m just a sucker for high-maintenance beauties.
As white flowers go, Cape Cod is pretty carefree they show up every autumn, gracing the garden with their delicate charms. After the first hard frost, I cut them back. Next spring they’ll slowly emerge as modest low growing green clumps that are all but invisible in the border until fall.
While I’m thinking about fall color spots, the hearty cyclamens deserve another mention–beautiful, carefree and happy in dry shade they fill an otherwise dreary spot beneath an ornamental crab apple. Once established, they multiply happily, making nice little puddles of pink.

The same plant, in a different shade of pink, extends the bloom season. These small undemanding beauties are definitely worth seeking out.
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See the hole between the Witch hazel and the vine maple? I’m thinking the viburnum might do there….
As usual I have unplaced plants lounging in the holding area. To say nothing about the lovely Japanese maples living in pots. The pots are large, but still temporary homes.
The problem is the garden is full. So placing new treasures means either expansion or removal. Tough choices. But, autumn is the best time to make them.
I’ve ruled out the west border as a possible site of any of the homeless. The picture below is my neighbor’s view of that side of the garden.


Pink Japanese anemones spread freely, but they’re so lovely for so long that it’s hard to be strict with them.
Recently I read a popular local garden column, urging removal of self-seeders to protect the purity of the garden’s design. To each his own. Personally, I enjoy mother nature’s whimisical plantings and actually encourage them. If I’m unhappy with where a foxglove or malva sprout I can always remove them. But, my garden would be much duller without the summer ruffle of wild daisies or the graceful waves of anemones softening the evergreen shrubs.

This is my favorite kind of garden detail, something not immediately obvious to passing traffic, but a hidden delight for the gardener.
Like their spring cousins, autumn crocus are absolutely trouble free and spread happily into growing pools of soothing lavender. Most of the borders include at least one spot for these beauties.
Technically, it’s still summer. This brings up what I regard as the problem with fall color plans. The asters, crocus, cyclamen, and Japanese anemones comprising the grace notes of color in autumn all begin blooming in late summer. By the time fall is truly underway and the garden is being battered by storms there’s precious little blooming.

Summer has been long and hot, fall color is already flaming in the borders that surround the property. The vine maple, witch hazel, rugosa, and a Japanese maple just out of view all contribute to the fall tapestry.
This is the time of year when I look at the garden and quake. Because, there are endless tasks to be done in short time and frankly it looks impossible.
Starting with shearing back the Grosso lavenders to tidy mounds.