The word starting with A, describing the season after summer and before winter, has been banned in my household for the last month. I realise that for many the approach of the A word is cause for joy, anticipation of mellow fruitfulness, enjoying cosy night in etc.etc., but for me it signals only the unraveling of everything I have worked for since the year began. I don’t deny the inevitability of the A word’s coming, nor that it has some charming aspects, but on the whole I’d prefer if, like an unwanted caller, it would come back later.
In my garden the A word represents a time when things must be undone; cut back, untied, dismantled, put away, encouraged to rest. October is like May, but in reverse, the exception being the planting of bulbs, which offers some hope of good things to come. All I can focus on is the prospect of a wonderful display slowly disintegrating before my eyes. Cold nights and shorter days will soon trigger the decline of anything tender or tropical. Decay will be followed by the lugging of soggy pots into any sheltered place I can find, and accompanied by the realisation that I have too many plants for the protected space at my disposal. The greenhouse, workshop, garden room, bathrooms and windowsills will become home to hundreds of refugee plants, waiting for the storms of winter to pass. Away in the distance all I can think about is having to do it all again, and better.
I am neither pessimistic nor negative, so I prefer to remain in denial rather than face reality. Hence at The Beau’s first utterance of the A word he was cautioned not to do so within earshot again. Naturally this spurred him on to mention it as frequently as possible and to point out anything that might be a suggestion of the A word’s imminent approach – ‘look at that yellowing leaf!’, ‘is that a cob nut up there in the tree?’, ‘we really should have placed our bulb order by now’ – you get the gist. Meanwhile I took the opposite tack, looking for any sign that summer is still going strong – ‘look at all the buds on X’, ‘I think Y is going to be bigger than ever this year’, ‘I remember the year it was hotter in Broadstairs during October than it was in Delhi’ (this last fact was true). And so we go on, one of us in denial, the other revelling in the opportunity to bait his partner. It’s a kind of sport most couples enjoy from time to time.
This week I’m on business in the Czech Republic and Poland where I can glean no evidence of the A word, save for a preponderance of golden rod, rose hips and Himalayan balsalm lining the railway embankments. (There is Japanese knotweed here too, by the bucket load.) The forests are green, the birches are white, the fields neatly ploughed and the gardens full of zinnias, asters, helichrysum, gladioli, sunflowers and geraniums. They remind me of my first attempts at gardening and confirm it’s definitely summer – 100%, full on, undiluted – just for a little while longer. TFG.
16 comments On "Don’t mention the A word"
As we approach A I question why I said I would open my garden for NGS on 29/9! It is chilly here this morning and I really do not want to pack away my tender plants before the opening. Let’s hold on to summer for September. Pretty Pleeaasee
I never look forward to A or S because they require rakes and shovels. 🙂
Enjoy your last days of denial. I won’t mention a thing, A to Z.
you are so amusing…..best garden blog award!……perhaps with your upcoming extra time you could babble more frequently to all of us who are perpetually standing by waiting for your insights and consolation…..PS so sorry about Trump
I am with Judy!! And yes there will be a lot of shovels as S is now here…..😊
For a moment I thought the ‘A’ word was going to be ‘anemone’ – that’s because mine are trying to take over the garden…eek!
Worse things could happen! They run riot, but they’re so pretty. There are lots of new varieties coming out (I’ve got ‘Elfin Swan’) which should be less rampant.
That is what I though, because it caught my attention.
Hehe! I’m going to try to move a clump of anemones to a different part of the garden but I’m sure that they’ll be back again in the original space soon enough. (They seem to grow from any little bit of root left,)
Yes, that is what those who know them say. I do not know because they are so uncommon here. We have only a few at work, but I am told that someone tried to get rid of them years ago because they do not do so well here. I happen to like them anyway.
I agree entirely. I have, in latter years, come to appreciate some of A’s alleged charms, especially the colours. But I will never love it. Because W is next.
I really hope it’s not a cruel winter. I’ve had two in a row now; one cold, one windy. I reckon that means wet is next.
Like you, I too find it so heart-wrenching to see my flowers wilt and die, their buds still waiting to bloom. I see gardeners removing their summer flowers and throwing them in the garbage and replacing them with mums etc. I do like the fall flowers but when the summer flowers are doing so well I can’t justify killing them.
Wishing for an Indian summer here in Ottawa so my Moonflowers and Four O’Clocks get a chance to open their blooms. Everything was late this year😢
Fingers are crossed for you over here in the U.K. Anna. Just landed, back from Poland, and it feels much cooler than when I left. Hang in there little plants. We have more work to do yet!!
Sometimes, I think a bit more of a chill would make it easier to cut back some foliage after summer. I so hate to cut back the cannas just because they are losing color. I would not mind so much if they just totally finished all at once.
Each year when I see the golden rod bloom it is sobering.
But here in Alaska the peonies, delphinium, and lilies are showing off and I am immersing myself in them, ignoring the A.