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melissaaipapa

"And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core"

The line in the title is from Keats's 'Ode to Autumn', which I think of every September because it summons up all my feeling about this month in this place. It's one of the two times of year (the other is spring) when there is still some sun and warmth, not exaggerated as during the summer, while the rain has begun to fall, and everything wakes up from its summer stasis. The winter annual grass is sprouting, roses are making new growth--unfortunately, the rain started too late this summer to be likely to bring a good fall flush--the heat- and drought-loving summer weeds have slowed down enough that attacking them no longer seems such a desperate endeavor. The hardy cyclamen are in bloom.

I've just passed the worst of a recently stressful period, it rained yesterday, I have no urgent chores this morning. I was just out pulling a few plants of the pirella that fills the propagating (so-called) beds, rapidly maturing and setting itself to go to seed, and lending a wonderful air of abundance to the area. The pulled plants, a few of the multitude, are going to mulch the beds; and I'm lifting some of the heavy pavers and stuffing them and other pulled plants underneath them to turn into mulch. This is around my rose 'Lamarque', which was originally set there as a cutting to root, which it did, and which I've decided to leave there, in the hopes that it will grow enough to shade the tomatoes in the neighboring bed: I need to order the rebar for the pergola which will keep it off my head. All mad, I know, but gardening is fun just for the possibilities for madness that it allows. 'Lamarque' in the propagating bed is growing in a very few inches of soil over rock. My idea is, not to dig deeper into the rock, as I've done in the past with pick and shovel and loads of sand and compost brought in, but to continue mulching around the rose and so gradually raise the soil. A share of the organic debris needs to go under the pavers so that they rise along with the beds. There may well be better ways to accomplish my ends, but every year there's more plant life in the propagating beds, so it's a success of sorts.

Down in the garden I've been working in a small area close to the first ditch. It used to have a rose, a buddleia, a columnar yew and rosemary at one end, a photinia at the other, a line of low-growing shrub honeysuckle in front, a vigorous infestation of Bermuda grass everywhere. Trees at the back.

The buddleia, yew, and rosemary are all dead, victims of age, heat, drought, Bermuda grass; the rose, 'Celsiana', is happily suckering to fill in the center of the bed; the photinia is growing and stoutly holding its end; some of the plants of shrub honeysuckle have died, but most are alive and happy enough. The Bermuda grass is still vigorous, but I believe is slowly losing the battle, and is much less present at the feet of the 'Celsiana'. There's a seedling oak where the yew used to be: I think I'll leave it there and add an evergreen shrub, I don't know what (not a yew). I'll replace the dead shrub honeysuckles to complete the hedge. The result will be a simplification, but with abundance and vigor of what's there; I mean, who wouldn't want a suckering patch of 'Celsiana'? That's happiness.

Comments (23)

  • 4 months ago
    last modified: 4 months ago

    Very evocative writing, Melissa. I find this time of year to be quite melancholic - awareness of increasing dark, the closing down of summer. And yet, once we have a cleansing frost, I find I am happy to welcome the bright days of autumn. The promise of deferred pleasures (bulbs, seeds, bare-roots) makes it easier to reframe the narrative so I am not looking at the ending of one season...but the beginning of a new one. And the colours! It manages to be both austere and vivid (I am usually digging through the yarn baskets to capture that gorgeous autumnal palette of straw, bronze, rust, crimsons).

    I have been an absolute fiend with my pullsaw, hacking away at the tangled growth of decades...and most thrilling, I have uncovered roses which have been almost extinguished by their more determined (thuggish) cousins. A little gallica, Duc de Guiche, a China (Sophie's Perpetual) and an almost forgotten rosa glauca, hidden in the sorbus grove, have re-appeared to remind me (again) of the resilience, tenacity and absolute joie de vivre of our beloved plants. Wishing you all the joy of the season.


    Cheers, campanula

  • 4 months ago

    Just lovely, Melissa.

  • 4 months ago

    Campanula, thanks for the good wishes, and I'm glad you're enjoying your fall. Sheila, glad you like my post. I wish I had an editor--I discovered at least one error in what I wrote. DH and I are off later this morning to see if we can find a laburnum sucker or two to pot up: they're such lovely plants, but no one sells them. Either they're hopelessly out of fashion, or those who want a laburnum just do what I do, and go out and dig up a sucker. In fact I could use several in the garden.

  • 4 months ago

    'DH and I are off later this morning to see if we can find a laburnum sucker'.


    This sounds like a mission - intrepid plant hunters, hand-in-hand on a quest into the wild, searching out the elusive wild laburnum. Bravely facing savage animals and deadly terrain, will they find the rare and precious golden chain tree?

    Melissa Northern Italy zone 8 thanked HU-618169007
  • 4 months ago

    Laburnums are kind of irritating, in the sense that they're hard to find in commerce. They're fairly common in the wild, in patches, and at least to my eyes are beautiful, but I've never found one in any of the local nurseries, and even the wholesale nursery I buy from often doesn't have them. So off we go into the woods. I think they may be too informal for local garden taste.

    This too common to offer, too rare to find, affects other plants as well. I'd quite like to try cowslips, for example, and have looked in nurseries for Solomon's seal, but they're hard to find. I did find the Solomon's seal at last, in a local wood of somewhat unusual character (old chestnuts, very fine large Turkey oaks, a late-flowering light blue violet, the Solomon's seal), but that's the only place I've seen it in this area. Cowslips are present in the province, but not locally, though I've seen them growing in a garden in town.

    We ended up with two knobs of laburnum root, and hope they'll grow. These are from our own property. If I want more, we'll have to head out to a spot some miles away, where there's a tractor road where laburnum suckers sprout. We've gotten several plants from there over the years. If you can dig up a sucker, they root pretty easily.

  • 4 months ago

    Cowslips are really easy from seed and quick to colonise space. I gathered seed from one of the cemetery graves...and in just 2 years, there are drifts and patches in numerous places (same with scabious, hesperis and foxgloves...yet welsh poppies have been resistant to naturalising). Can send seed if you cannot get any in Italy.

  • 4 months ago

    I can’t imagine NOT wanting a laburnum tree in my yard, Melissa. I have poured over the prospect of planting one here on my property but have concluded it would not like my intense hot summers and I would knock myself out trying to grow something that hates it here and have to give up in the end. But you grow them in Italy?? Hmmm. Maybe in the right spot with the right care….

  • 3 months ago

    Judi, here they grow in the wild,and it is unbelievably hot in the summer; if you really like them I think you should give them a try.

  • 3 months ago

    Bart and Judi, but keep in mind they might need the chilly wet winters we have here as well. If you see laburnums in gardens in your area, that's definitely a plus in weighing whether to grow them.

    Our local gardening style isn't found all over Italy, but I would describe what I see around here as a kind of stodgy formality, lots of evergreen hedges, tightly pruned plants, and brightly colored flowers on plants of moderate dimensions. Laburnums are rather shabby in winter, and always informal in outline, and they get large for the modestly sized gardens most people have here. I'm guessing that these reasons combine to ensure that few people grow laburnums, great trees/shrubs though they are. I'm not sure I've ever seen one around here in any other garden than my own. (And on the other hand, people grow birches! Talk about shabby!)

    I've mentioned before the laburnums growing on a large rock outcropping in one of our fields. They're quite large spreading plants, really glorious in bloom, though you need deeply cloudy weather to see the flowers properly against the sky. I was out there a few days ago cutting back weeds, and noticed that they had already lost their leaves; not a good sign. I hope the laburnums won't be hurt by climate change, which is making itself felt around here.

    @Campanula, thanks for the offer, I appreciate it. I'm not sure I ought to take you up on it. I have a poor record on growing from seed, something I actually don't do much. I wouldn't want you to waste your efforts. Also, I haven't looked to see whether seed is locally available. I think I could find some if I went to the trouble of searching.

  • 3 months ago

    Do try and seek some out - they are incredibly obliging when simply scattered on bare earth...it is not uncommon to see entire meadows colonised by cowslips, here in east anglia. Same with common primrose (but less so with the lovely oxslips). I cannot keep hold of most primula because of drought, but those european vieris, vulgaris and elatior seem very able to sit out dry summers, appearing every spring with minimal effort.

  • 3 months ago

    Thank you, Bart and Melissa! I’ll put them back on my tree list. I won’t be putting any in my smaller yard garden areas, but I do have a section of our property that I want to plant with a lot of trees for three reasons: beauty, of course- I love trees! And I live in a part of Arizona where trees are semi-scarce. And the next reason is privacy. Because if the angle of the house compared to the main road past our land, all passersby have a clear view of our patio and fire pit area. I want to change that by planting trees. And the third reason is that I would like to shield my house and back yard from the strong afternoon sun. My family objected at first because in doing so, I will also be blocking the view of the mountains to the west of us and it’s quite apparent that the builders of this house intentionally built it at this angle to get a full view of the mountains from the kitchen and dining room. I told them they are welcome to walk out into the meadow beyond my tree plantation any time they wish to see the mountains. They agree that shade and privacy makes the sacrifice of the view worth it. So, if I plant evergreens as a backdrop, hopefully the laburnums in bloom will set off nicely against the green even if it’s not cloudy? It’s so rarely cloudy here.

  • 3 months ago

    Campanula, we don't have the other two, but Primula vulgaris is common in our area, and a plant that will grow where little else will: dank, dark areas with thin, heavy clay soil, sometimes wet. It handles drought, too--obviously, otherwise it wouldn't be here--though in that case probably appreciates shade. The others, well, perhaps they'd be worth a try.

    Judi, the evergreen backdrop is exactly what you need for laburnums to show their beauty in bloom. Good luck with them!

  • 3 months ago

    Ah Melissa, apols for banging on about this but I know that fragrance is a characteristic you cherish: and few things are so redolent of the promise of warmth and renewal as the gloriously fragrant primula vieris. Indeed, walking through a patch of cowslips is truly affecting - a particular scent which carries on the air, both floral and spicy. As for feeling reluctant to grow from seed, there is no need whatsoever to do anything apart from scattering a handful onto a patch of earth, gently tread on them to ensure good contact, then walk away. No need to cover (they germinate in light), Just wait for spring, when the robust and crinkled little seedlings are unmistakable.


    I used to garden in a house which had a number of laburnums, as well as an absolutely gorgeous broom. The combination of fresh green foliage and luminous yellow blossom from the large genista aetnensis, seemed to bathe the entire area in light.

  • 3 months ago

    Thanks for the comment, Campanula! I'll keep your comments about P. veris in mind! You're absolutely right, fragrance is important to me. N.B. do cowlips need part or full sun? Where I live such places tend to be jammed with weeds.

  • 3 months ago

    They will obligingly grow in a range of different conditions...although totally dry shade under a maple might be pushing the envelope a bit, you would be astonished to see the ferocious little plants contending with rampant grass and even worse infestations of green alkanet (pentaglottis sempervirens) whilst in the shade of himalayan blackberry and huge ivy clumps. Cowslips are far less demanding than its cousin, primula vulgaris. Hopefully, fate and serendipity will ensure some fat shiny little seeds come your way.

    Melissa Northern Italy zone 8 thanked HU-618169007
  • 3 months ago

    Melissa - lovely to read anything you write, as usual. Your last comments in your first remarks above, re "...down in the garden...in an area close to the first ditch..." struck me, somehow. You describe planting various things, including a tree, only to have them die. However, over time another tree seedling popped up, and a rose suckered all ovesr happily. It jibes with my experience in the garden. If I plan an area carefully, and purchase variious plants, and plant them there, within a few years some will die out, and ones which are happy in the specific conditions will thrive and get WAY larger than I expected, and maybe new ones will plant themselves and be happy. "Man proposes, God disposes".


    Of course, what is happening is that, left to themselves, the plants which love those specific conditions, whether you planted them or they planted themselves, thrive. The ones who do not like those conditions, for whatever reasons, may disappear. Years and years ago I planted a few hollyhocks in my garden. They persisted for 2-3 years, and then disappeared forever. A few years ago, about 40 feet away from where the hollyhocks had been decades before, we took out two huge ancient bushes and made an all brand new mostly rose garden in that space. For the first time since we think the 1920s or 30s, that new area was tilled, and lots of compost dug into it. Then I planted many rooted rose cuttings according to my PLAN. They did grow, and are mostly flourishing (I knew they all liked our climate, as they were cuttings from roses I had to move off of our house because of our Fire Dept's orders).


    Within a couple of years, low and behold, hollyhocks started sprouting up in the sunniest areas of my new garden, and getting gigantic (one had round leaves 12" in diameter). Of course, I left them - they are so pretty, and give sort of instant height to areas where the roses are still building up themselves. Now every Spring we get sort of hollyhock "lawns" in two areas - dozens of self seeded babies. I have our gardener weed all of them out except one or two, and let those grow.


    You mentioned you don't have much luck with planting seeds. I don't either, and have given up doing that. However, seeds plant themselves, of course, and if I like the plant I try to let them alone, and they tend to flourish.


    Jackie

  • 3 months ago

    Primula and Jackie, thanks. Somehow I missed these last two messages. Cowslips do certainly sound worth planting! Jackie, yes, absolutely. I find that much of my gardening is in two phases. Phase one, make a plan, plant, full of hope, then wait. Some things die, others stand still, others flourish. There's a pause while I get frustrated and deal with other parts of the garden, then one day I come back, take stock of the current situation, make a new plan based on what has survived, and plant again.

    The sun came out for a few hours today. It was so wonderful. It's been raining all month, and the last time we saw the sun was Friday a week ago, for part of the afternoon. I went out on the squishy garden paths, pruning here and there--amazing how much there is still to do after all the summer work--and seeing where the water was going. I haven't gotten up the nerve to check the bottom of the first ditch. Anyway, we definitely have enough water now, and the forecast is that the rain will FINALLY stop, and I'm pretty happy about everything.

  • 2 months ago

    We had about a month of rain, too, and I am SO grateful! This is the way Italian autumns used to be , though not so warm. Now a high pressure front has moved in-I hope and pray that it won't over-stay its welcome, as it tends to do anymore.The only gripe I have is that because of the site of our house,mold is a problem, and with the temperatures so high, one can't dry things out a bit by turning on the heat. In fact, I splurged and bought an expensive de-humidifier,but the cheaper one we've been using is just completely inadequate. It should be arriving in the next couple of days.

    I've been planting stuff out whenever possible, and working on my garden consolidation scheme, which requires moving a lot of plants. Yesterday I dug out Morning Blush and a Madame Solvay. Both roses were having to compete with roots of cherry trees; in the case of the Madame it was pretty difficult to get the rose out.I also investigated two roses that have been sort of "just sitting there"for too long. I both cases, the rootstock had died off, and the still-living own-root portion was having to co-habitate with this corpse. No wonder they weren't growing.

    Adding trees to provide shelter from the south-western sun is a big priority. So far I've added a new Paulownia, two more cypresses,and a small weeping evergreen ( perhaps a juniper? but it should only grow to be about 3 meters tall.) Also moved a cedrus libani,and am putting in several laurels ,concentrating all of these in one particular area ,hoping that at least some will grow really quickly to provide shade that will block what I have begun to think of as the "corridor of death"-that is, a long strip of the garden that seems particularly exposed to the worst of the summer sun.

    There's still SO much clean-up to be done! but I want to take advantage of the blessed rain to do as much planting-out as possible.

  • 2 months ago

    I was wondering how things were at your place, bart; from the sound of it, busy. We've been doing a bit of planting, too, though with DH's slowdown due to age, and my chronic fatigue--not to mention the sodden ground--it's been slow. I really need to be doing a LOT more planting. We've gotten a couple more photinias in the ground, with more, the compact variety, due to be planted. I've gotten a pair of young guys, son of a friend and his friend, who are due to arrive to mow and dig---hurray!!!! Not sure how it will work out, but I'm hopeful.

    Messy the garden may be, but it is rather beautiful here and there. It has trees! and big shrubs! and even a couple of roses in modest bloom.

    I sure understand your desire for shade. Some day, no doubt our garden will be overrun with massive oaks, but that's some decades in the future and a problem for later owners. I'm just glad to see growth where there used to be only scrawny grass and weeds.

    I share your hope that the current weather not overstay its welcome.

  • 2 months ago

    Oops! Campanula, looks like I bestowed a new name on you: sorry! Doubtless I was influenced by the topic under discussion.

  • 2 months ago

    Melissa, how much do these young guys ask in payment? I have to get someone to give me a hand, too, but would like an idea of the eventual cost,if possible.

  • 2 months ago

    Bart, when I talked with my friend/mother of one of them, she said ten euros an hour would be fine. I paid that plus a bonus of two euros an hour because they worked well, which came out to twelve euros an hour. One had worked for a gardening company in the summer, so had some experience. Both are in their last year of high school and were working for pocket money and job experience. For an experienced gardener I'm guessing it would be more. Italians don't get paid enough for many kinds of work.