Late Flowering

It is with regret each summer that I document the end of the sunflowers which for weeks have been a delightful part of our landscape. Close inspection would find a few shabby shreds of petals here and there, but their exuberant glory is past.

Goldfinches glean the seeds, so the bedraggled plants are left each year until frost has taken the entire garden.

From a row of cosmos directly planted into the soil, only this clump of white ones appeared. My intention is to save seeds for another summer.

Zinnias planted in the same row as the cosmos were slow to germinate and grew slowly at first. 

This variety has smaller blooms than some I have grown, colorful but not gaudy.

Dusty lavender Michaelmas Daisy.

Michaelmas Daisies from seed have rewarded me with 4 distinct colorways. 

The seed all came from Prairie Moon Nursery, several varieties.

The plants have grown far taller than I anticipated and have leaned out of the raised bed setting, crowding and shading lower growing plants--a situation that I hope to remedy--if I can find the stamina to extend my planting area on the west side of the house. 

[My last efforts to work on that project prompted 3 sessions with the chiropractor--and I am not yet put to rights.]

This deep purple variety is most like the New England asters that grow on roadsides in my native Vermont.

Deep vivid pink--for want of a more descriptive color.

Soft dusty rose.

Two fresh blooms on the white clematis--only survivor of the starts from Spring Hill Nursery two years ago.

Finally--late in the season--nasturtiums in the big pot set in the corner between the greenhouse and the barn door.

David Austin: The Poet's Wife.

The roses are a bit bedraggled, though the worst scourge of Japanese beetles is over.

Mexican sunflowers which appeared after a year's absence in front of the unquenchable, supposedly 'dwarf' buddleia.

I pruned it ruthlessly in late spring, which seems only to have encouraged it to explosive growth. 

As cooler autumn weather moves in I remain hopeful that I can do some garden tidying and transplanting--maybe in tiny increments which don't threaten my elderly bones.