Around the Corner

With Labor Day just behind us, I’ve been relishing the ever so subtle suggestion of autumn. Its golden amber to ruby palette, cooler nights, sounds of honking geese, cornucopia of corn, squash, gourds of any size, shape and almost color, offer a welcome message: seasonal change. New England - and let’s not forget, Canada’s Eastern provinces, will soon be sought out for their brilliant fall colors offered by sumacs, sugar maples, ashes, oaks and many more.

The equinox, be it fall or spring, offers a sense of balance. And, the half 24 hours of daylight and darkness is a natural reality — unaffected by human actions. At least so far…

But first, I don’t want to bypass what continues to delight the senses here in the Berkshires in September.

A sunflower can’t help but bring a smile to my face be it seen en masse or as a single flower from the front, the back or way up close. Another golden statement is the proliferation of goldenrods or solidago, which, for weeks, has been lining our roads and filling fields where corn or hay isn’t growing.

Another native and especially appreciated species by pollinators such as moths and butteflies, is the tall and billowy dusty pink blooming Joe-Pye Weed, or Eutrochium, not to be confused with the similar looking Milkweed or Asclepias.

As I’ve learned, many plant names with the term, “weed”, including Milkweed and Ironweed, were so named by settlers unfamiliar with them. Milkweed, native east of the Rockies, is particularly important to the ecosystem. It is a crucial feeding source for monarch caterpillars which depend exclusively on its milky sap, as they head north from Mexico in the spring. Other pollinators are not so keen on it. (Round-Up, a powerful pesticide used in industrial farms, is a major factor in their population decline estimated at 90% since the 1980’s.) Including them in our gardens or simply conserving land on their migratory paths can help reverse the trend.

Thankfully, at this time of year, on their long three thousand mile migratory routes south to the Oyamel trees in Michoacan, monarchs in their adult stage, can also thrive on numerous other plant species such as fall asters. (How impressive it is that in the span of a year, comprising four generations, the last generation can head “home,” a phenomenon that remained a mystery for decades.

Below is a little slideshow of Milkweeds as they go from pods to seeds bursting in whirls of silky threads carried by the wind.

As a teaser—but a slightly misleading one—that the spring equinox will be upon us in six months, is the bright pink Colchicum or autumn crocus, that has just emerged in my garden. Why the word: “misleading”? Colchicum is a member of the lily family and, while named a crocus, it is not related to the many colored spring crocus whose stigma and styles called “threads” provide saffron. A time consuming job to collect hence the high price!

Of course, one need not be in a cultivated garden to enjoy fall’s special bounty. Just taking a walk and hearing geese honking on their way south, offers not only a visual feast but an auditory one as well. Touching grasses or the fluffy “cotton” of the milkweeds brings a tactile dimension. Scent? Not sure which plants offer them at this time of year when nature is “winding down.”

Finally as the season progresses, we can look forward to dazzling colors!

My next piece will be on autumn in Quebec.