Every year I take a small back-to-school vacation to help my daughter prepare for her next school year. We hope to get every last thing she needs for school, but we usually accomplish the most essential thing, resting up for a busy year.
The sunflowers are usually in bloom at this time, and this year is no exception. Our garden is past its peak. Despite the hot, dry days of this time, the nights will soon get too cold for some of our flowers to thrive for much longer.
So much will change in the next month, as it does every year at this time.
My rose mallow hibiscus bush is booming. This is the first time I’ve seen five blooms packed so tightly together.
We are recovering from a blustery day that lost its way back in October and found home yesterday. When I returned from work, I found that my flower pot that sits on a pedestal in the yard had fallen upside down into the grass. I placed in the main flower bed for its convalescence:
My hibiscus continues its heavy blooming, and the sunflowers have buds.
My two petunia baskets suffered the fate of so many hanging baskets purchased in spring: they perished due to irregular watering. With all the time I’ve spent in the garden this year, I should have attended to this task more. Instead, they wilted one too many times in the heat and did not rebound.
I found a couple gorgeous calibrachoa baskets last weekend. My red calibrachoa basket hasn’t needed as much attention as the petunia baskets did. I feel hopeful that these two additions will thrive in the garden.
There’s something about the first mum I see at summer’s end that compels me to touch it. They remind of the kid who was last to bring a jacket to school as fall stretched onward. It’d be 48 degrees and breezy outside, and I wouldn’t see a single goosebump on his arms. I’d wonder if his arms felt warm to the touch.
This weekend I spotted mums at a local garden center. I touched a pair of them, wondering how they brave the cold the longest of any garden plant that thrives in this area. They were just 1.99 a plant, and now they are part of my garden. I wonder how they’ll fare in the still-hot afternoons of late summer.