Falling leaves & acorns
We’ve had one of the wettest summers in recent memory and it’s been good for the trees. The dogwood in my yard has never looked more robust, putting out abundant foliage, and flocks of robins descended on it last week to feast on its berries.
With a wet spring, we were spared the ravages of gypsy and winter moth caterpillars that devastated Sherborn’s woodlands a couple summers ago. Oak trees were especially hard hit by the moths, so it’s a joy to see them responding with a mast year for acorns. Each gust of wind brings a rat-a-tat of acorns on our roof and crushed acorns litter the driveway.
Most of the plants have stopped blooming in my yard. The native goldenrods and asters fed swarms of pollinators in late summer through September. The dainty calico asters were the last to bloom — the most popular bee plant in the yard. They’ve found their way into a sunny garden bed and I let them spread, knowing how well they support the pollinators in my yard.
Now only a few stalwarts are still in bloom. I discovered the native perennial black eyed susan (Rudbeckia fulgida, var fulgida), at the Abby Rockefeller Garden on Mount Desert Island in August, where 3-4 foot tall plants were covered with blooms. By chance, I found the native variety at the Garden in the Woods in September and planted them in my garden, where they are still in bloom. The blue mistflower (Conoclinium coelestinum), a rambunctious spreader that doesn’t start blooming until September, is still happily flowering in both a sunny and a partially shaded spot.
This October has been very warm and the fall foliage is less vibrant than usual. I’ve been savoring the warm days outside walking or lunching on the patio, but feel nostalgic for the crisp, cool, breezy days I remember from my childhood, wearing warm sweaters while we raked leaves and jumped in the piles. With climate change, New England’s summer weather will become hotter and we’ll have more extreme weather events.
I did not see a single Fritillary butterfly this year, which worried me a little, but this was a good year for Monarch butterflies. I know that many gardeners are now encouraging the common milkweed to grow in their yard, as do I. It must be working because I saw many Monarch visitors throughout the summer and fall. Today in mid-October, a late Monarch lingered at a blooming zinnia in my yard.
Their migration is a risky one, however, especially with climate change. Incredibly, Monarchs migrate as much as 3000 miles to Mexico every fall, riding air currents and thermals from Canada, New England and the midwest. When an extreme storm blows up from the Gulf Coast, it’s like a giant aerial blender for migrating monarchs. Just one more reason we should all be actively supporting efforts to combat climate change, including at the ballot box.
Enjoy the beautiful fall weather, everyone!
