I remember it as October days are always remembered, cloudless, maple-flavored, the air gold and so clean it quivers. – Leif Enger, American author, from Peace Like a River
Alas, November has arrived, and while most of the garden has slowly gone dormant, there are still flowers that insist on blooming. Here are the last bouquets of the season. Post script: I spilled juice from my dinner on my keyboard and it’s difficult to type because some keys aren’t working. So you’ll have to enjoy the photos without commentary. I apologize that many of the bouquets are similar. Such is the case when you have a limited selection of flowers. Enjoy! Until next season!
I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in. – John Muir, influential Scottish-American naturalist, author, environmental philosopher, botanist, zoologist, glaciologist, and early advocate for the preservation of wilderness in the United States of America
When the county issued a shelter-in-place order on March 16, 2020, I was finishing up working out at our local gym. We were told the order would last for three weeks. Without a structure in place, especially for someone who is so reliant on routine, I fell off of my exercise regimen. Soon, suffering from cabin fever, I started looking for a different form of cardio exercise. We decided to go on long walks with our dog, Sammy. First it was a threesome with my husband, David, and my daughter, then it became just David and me. In the beginning we walked to Memorial Grove in El Cerrito, but the downhill walk was a little treacherous with the gravelly and pebbly path.
We started our walks after our work day, and we headed up a long, uphill road and took meandering streets to get back to our house in the flats. It was about 3.5 miles, which took us a little over an hour. Sometimes we walked all the way up Moeser Avenue to Arlington, which wound its way through the towns of Kensington and Berkeley, and then to El Cerrito. That walk often took 2.5 hours. This walk was mostly with my daughter and me, which was a really peaceful and leisurely time for us to connect. Soon we developed a routine when my daughter stopped walking the rigorous uphill climb. At one point, we timed the uphill climb to 11 minutes and 55 seconds in June, but we haven’t been able to beat that time.
Along the way, we saw some great views, fauna, and flora. I knew at some point, wherever we were with shelter in place and the pandemic, I would put together a collage of photos from our walks. With autumn here and daylight savings looming a month away, our routine will once again change, but for now, here are memories of what I call our “shelter-in-place” walks. Enjoy!
There is a time in late September when the leaves are still green, and the days are still warm, but somehow you know that is all about to end. – Sharyn McCrumb, American writer
September usually means the first of two months of our Bay Area Indian Summer. We’ve had such a strange flower season this year, which is in keeping with all the tragedies and oddities of 2020. Our dahlias caught powdery mildew quite early in the season and succumbed. In a last-ditch effort, we put nematodes in the soil and started watering more, which seemed to perk many of the flowers in the garden. Now instead of waiting for the dahlia stalks to brown and harden so we can dig them up and separate the tubers, we are waiting to see if any buds appear on the leafy green stalks!
The flowers that are really flourishing right now are the various varieties of scabiosa that I planted in June. I’m hoping that next year they bloom earlier. Additional watering produced a longer flowering season for the alstroemeria, although it looks like most of the green stalks will not produce flowers. Alas, the bachelor’s buttons, gerbera daisies, and chocolate cosmos are telling me it’s time to wind down. The zinnias are having a growth spurt, but I fear I may give up trying to coax these fickle flowers to bloom in my garden next year.
Strangely, a lot of my plants on my wish list at Annie’s Annuals are now available, include the sweet peas. I still have a small bag of sweet pea seeds. But I couldn’t resist, and I bought more plants. I’ll be planting them soon, and we’ll see if I continue to get flowers late into fall. Part of me is ready to hang up the clippers and gardening gloves, though I do love looking out the family room windows and seeing my beloved garden. Without further ado, here are the bouquets of September.
When summer gathers up her robes of glory, and, like a dream, glides away. — Sarah Helen Whitman, American poet, essayist, transcendentalist, spiritualist
We’re coming to the end of August and also the end of the summer bouquets. It’s been a strange season in a year we can all say we wish would end. One pleasant discovery is that with the demise of the dahlia garden, I’ve had to rely on other flowers and I’ve had to be more creative in building out my bouquets. David always told me I needed more greenery for balance. As you know, I’m all about stuffing the vase with flowers and more flowers. This time around, I have been using branches from the camellia tree — setting them up in the vase and building the bouquets around the branches. And here are the results.
I know I am but summer to your heart, and not the full four seasons of the year. – from Sonnet XXVII, Edna St. Vincent Millay, American lyrical poet and playwright
Now it is August. Midsummer. I came across this Edna St. Vincent Millay poem, and I thought this first line and title of her sonnet is what the flowers are saying to me. Enjoy.
And that concludes our July, our midsummer, bouquets. Stay tuned for the late summer (August) bouquet and the fall bouquet blogs.
A flower blossoms for its own joy. – Oscar Wilde, Irish poet and playwright
2020 will go down as a strange year, to say the least, all the way around. Many just want the year to end. We have been battling a host of pests and disease in our garden, from grasshoppers and snails and gophers, to powdery mildew and mysterious diseases, that are attacking our beleaguered plants and flowers. Our dahlias have been hit hardest. And that means we’ll need to dig up the tubers, separate them, and store them until late winter. This is a chore, but we want to bring back our beloved dahlias. Still, I was able to make bouquets – not as many as in years past – and share them with family and friends. Here we go!
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