Filed under: Gardening, Flowers, How-To
Fall is coming: Just say no to mums!
I jest, sort of. I actually like chrysanthemums, especially when they are allowed to naturalize elegantly. And I love the season that they have come to embody. What I dislike is the fall monoculture of artificial-looking, forced balls that suddenly pop up in otherwise barren seas of mulch or stuck like petrified pom-poms in between the shrubs. It's as if fall arrives and we all rush like lemmings to the nearest box store chanting, "Must have mums! Must have mums!"
There are alternatives, and it is a shame not to plant them.
Stanley Park in September, Vancouver, B.C: Penstemon, Verbena bonariensis, Helianthus and Verbascum. Photo: Marie Viljoen
Let's have
a few mums, and leave them to develop their natural forms and bloom all by themselves the following year when the cool crisp weather tells them that it's time. There are other flowers -- gorgeous and unusual -- that are primed to bloom at exactly the same time. They are perennials, meaning that by planting them we are more resourceful than when planting mum-balls that are yanked out after a few weeks. Plus, these perennials provide more interest and contrast in our gardens than the row of conformist, rigid lumps of mass-produced...mums.
Here is a list of twelve exciting perennials for fall. Some are well-known and several are quite under-represented in our gardens.
A is for Acidanthera, Actaea, Allium, Anemone and Aster!
Acidanthera or peacock flower. Photo: Marie Viljoen
I have written about
Acidanthera bicolor (Abyssinian gladiolus, peacock flower) before, in a post about
fragrance in the garden, but it bears repeating that this highly-scented geophyte (a plant that grows from underground bulbs, tuber, corm, etc.), blooms in the fall. Grown from small, round corms planted in spring or even early summer, the tall sword-shaped leaves are followed in mid-fall by long slender stems and stunning, stop-in-your-tracks white flowers with burgundy throats. As evening draws in, their scent is drawn out. They smell delicious. Best in full sun they can tolerate morning or afternoon shade, too.
I still think of Actaea as Cimicifuga, but it has been reclassified.
Actaea racemosa "Atropurpurea" (referring to its purple leaves and stems). Pictured above, it is known by the common names bugbane, black snakeroot and black cohosh. This particular cultivar blooms later than regular bugbane, starting around late August and flowering fluffily into September. It is a regal plant growing up to six feet tall, softened by white spires rising from the dark stems. It is perfect for a woodland garden with dappled sunlight. It performs very well in sun sun too, as long as it has plenty of moisture, making it a versatile fall flower.
Allium taquetii. Photo: Marie Viljoen
One does not think of alliums blooming in the fall. At least I did not until I met the Korean
Allium taquetii, blooming on the North Fork of Long Island in September at Jim and Joanne Glover's wholesale nursery,
Glover Perennials. Since then I have used it for late-season punctuation and rhythm in a
naturalistic roof-garden planting that included calamintha and agastache (also nice, late bloomers, by the way). It requires full sun, good drainage and does not mind drying out a little.
Japanese anemones. Photo: Marie Viljoen
Japanese anemones are the Audrey Hepburns of the fall garden. Planted en masse or as highlights in semi-shaded areas, they are bursts of late season brightness and grace, perfectly poised on willowy stems. They make gorgeous cut flowers, too. Look for the white anemones
"Honorine Joubert" and "Whirlwind"; for pale pink splashes, try "Alice", "Königin Charlotte," or "Bressingham Glow", a ruffled deep-pink flower that blooms through October. These fall anemones need humus-rich soil and plenty of moisture.
Frost aster. Photo: Marie Viljoen
You might think, "Hang on, aren't asters as ubiquitous as mums?" Yes and no. Asters lend themselves to naturalizing, yet can also be forced into unnatural blue balls, come Halloween. Take your pick.
Aster pilosus (frost aster), above, is a white native aster which, once established, forms mounds of billowing little flowers right into October. It needs full sun and well drained soil -- it even prefers some drought. A similar white aster is heath aster, or
Symphyotrichum ericoides.
Begonia grandis "Alba". Photo: Marie Viljoen
B is for begonia, of course. Not
that begonia...this begonia:
Begonia grandis, or hardy begonia. That's right, you plant it this year, and it comes back next year. It starts to flower in August and continues through September and sometimes later. It has sturdy, sappy rose-colored stems and the veins in its heart-shaped leaves are painted to match. Just like its lowly warm climate annual cousins -- so overused in institutional plantings -- it prefers shade, humus-rich soiland does not like to dry out. Plant in groups of three or more, in pots on your terrace or balcony in cooler spots.
Begonia grandis ssp
evansiana has pink flowers.
C is for Ceratostigma and Colchicum:
Ceratostigma plumbaginoides. Photo: Marie Viljoen
Bring on the blue!
Ceratostigma plumbaginoides, or plumbago, is one of the truest blues I know. We are conditioned to think of fall in shades of orange, yellow and brown. Yet blue is a true fall color, as we will see. Ceratostigma is a sun lover. It likes a lot of it and does not mind dry feet. Rock gardens or rock walls are excellent sites for this spiller and it is an excellent container plant. In addition to its startling flowers, which bloom for months, its leaves turn red as fall progresses.
Colchicum autumnale. Photo: Marie Viljoen
Colchicum autumnale, or fall crocus. When they bloom, they remind me of land-locked waterlilies. The leaves appear in spring and are large and glossy. Then they die back for a dormant summer so that by autumn you've forgotten about them -- that is when the beautiful flowers appear, as if by magic. It is best planted within other ground covers so their foliage helps support the flowers, which tend to flop in the rain. The above combination with lamb's ears (
Stachys byzantina) is a lovely one.
Colchicum need full sun and sufficient moisture.
Warning: colchicum contains colchicine, a highly toxic alkaloid that can be fatal if ingested (though it used in medicines). This is not a plant for a toddler's garden...
G is for Gentian and Geranium...
Gentiana scabra "True Blue". Photo: Marie Viljoen
Gentiana scabra "True Blue" is one of the most startling and beautiful plants I know. Talk about gentian blue...It forms dense mats with clusters of uptilted bell flowers with speckled throats, of an electric blue that draws me, at least, like a hungry bee. They are hard to propagate, but easy to grow once established and are the antithesis of the tense, rusty mums of year, after year, after year. Full sun and superb drainage are required. Good for paths and rock gardens.
Geranium "Rozanne". Photo: Marie Viljoen
Geranium "Rozanne" is my of my favorite perennial geraniums, as it just keeps going. Its first good flush of blooms is in springtime, summer sees continued flowering, but once cooler weather arrives in September, a new spurt of blooming returns. Planting this geranium near paths makes the most of its gently mounded form and lets it creep amongst other perennials, sending its sprays of intensely lilac flowers up in unexpected places. If you cut it back to about three or four inches in summer, new growth will be less leggy and will produce just as many flowers. It needs full sun.
Helianthus angustifolius. Photo: Mare Viljoen
H is for
Helianthus angustifolius, or swamp sunflower -- hard to miss in full bloom. Depending on the cultivar, this native plant will range from three to six feet tall and will be covered in a riot of golden daisy heads. It is a reassuringly fall-friendly yellow and is perfect for a meadow garden, planted with grasses, solidago and asters. They can also be used in a more traditional perennial border. As its common name implies, it likes moisture, but still needs good drainage and plenty of sun.
R is for
Rabdosia longituba, which took me by surprise three years ago when I first encountered it and decided to mass it in the dry shade area of a Japanese garden. By summer's end, the plants reached beyond my waist. (44 inches!). And in October they burst into delicate, blue flowers in airy panicles. This plant requires light shade, can stand drying out, and needs space to spread.
I could go on -- solidago for sun, toad lily for shade, cyclamen for dry shade under trees, helenium for meadows and borders, agastache and calamintha for the fall herb garden...Spring does
not corner the market in beautiful flowers. Visit your local nurseries and see what they have in stock, or ask for an alternative to the trusty mums. Ahead of the Big Freeze, fall should be a last fling of floral abundance.
Permalink | Email this | Linking Blogs | Comments