Color, and color relationships, have interested me for a long time.  I wore a chartreuse green crepe dress to my junior prom in 1967-no kidding.  As chartreuse was an unusual color choice for a high school eventy in 1967, that dress did stand out-as did my date’s red face. I still remember how mortified I was, given the contrast with all the blue, peach and pink chiffon in attendance.  Everyone reacts strongly, individually, and emotionally to color.   Why else would that dress have generated so much talk?  No wonder I gravitated towards the garden.  Natural color always seems just that-natural.  The fall foliage color of hardy plants and fall fruits and vegetables is in large part what makes the Michigan fall gardening season so spectacular. 

However, not all the fruits of the harvest are orange.  Many of the growers I know change up their offerings as much as they do their growing practices.  Pumpkins and gourds come in so many colors that any gardener could put together a color palette pleasing to their eye.  These steely blue green pumpkins of vastly different textures, paired with fresh eucalyptus, drying broomcorn leaves, and the delicate fruiting stems of Jewels of Opar-a subtle color palette that is unmistakeably fallish.

This new cabbage introduction, Glamour, is living up to its name.  Given the weather, that is.  Cool night temperatures produce incredibly saturated color in cold tolerant plants.  Cabbage and kale in September-their color is middling, at best.  Today the high temp was 49.  The kales and cabbages are quickly coloring up.  The creeping charlie, a lerftover from the summer planting, looks alarmed by the temperature.  Its intensely green leaves seem to glow in the cold.   

The green represented by my annuals, perennials and trees is fading fast.  It seems a little early to me-so much fall color the first week of October.  Luckily nature provides for some form of green in every season.  These bird gourds will fade to a fairly uniform yellow/taupe when they dry.  In their fresh state, the green color is as fresh and interesting as their distinctive shapes.

Pansies shrug off the chill.  These clear sky yellow pansies are same intense color now as they are in the spring.  They are fairly reliably hardy in my zone.  They look great carpeting a bed of tulips in the spring.  The carmine and pink gomphrena are easy to use in fall flower arrangements, as they are happy to be dry.  The orange striped yellow gourds provide lots of contrast.  Fairly lively this, considering that the garden is well on the way to going down.

Pumpkins other than orange are relatively new to me-years ago, I would have had my choice of this orange, or that orange.  White pumpkins are a milky greenish white, and lend themselves to fall arrangements more contemplative and subtle.  Though broomcorn is available in all of the traditional fall colors of russet, brown and orange/brown, this pale green version is exquisite.  This color will fade given enough time to a creamy brown.  The color of this wired natural raffia twine is appropriately named “straw”.  Once the chlorophyll disappears from leaves and stems of grain or cereal crops, what remains is straw.  Booth the byproduct, and the color. 

This cabbage is unusual in its shape, but most compelling in its coloration.  The center leaves of Coral King color in a way that is easy to recognize, but more difficult to describe. A brownish peachy pink, a touch of carmine, and a striking creamy white make them a beautiful plant in a fall arrangement.  The leaves-verging on turquoise.

The shades of  fall browns are many.  The russet browns and creamy browns of these natural twig pumpkins look great with pale orange and cream yellow gourds.  The dried bahia stems and their chocolate/black berries are dark and rich in color.  Though all of these natural colors closely relate, the color relationships are lively-seasonal.

But by no means would I want to do without that jewel of a color we call orange in the fall.  A sugar maple in full fall color, a collection of orange pumpkins and gourds, and the fall color on the Boston ivy soon to come which will feature the most amazing yellow/coral color  imaginable.  It wouldn’t be fall without the orange.

The light from the shop light fixtures early this morning-just as orange as this pile of pumpkins.  The light given off by the lamps is not at all like this in the spring, summer, or winter.  Go figure.

Unless we are talking about compost, brown in the summer landscape is usually a sign of trouble.  Brown grass is grass in need of rain.  That cinnamon orange color means the yew is stone cold dead.  Burnt brown leaves on a shade tree can mean a lot of things-none of them good.  Brown blotches on the maple tree leaves and roses-a fungus at work.  But there are some brown foliaged plants that are quite handsome.  Having planted my pots at home with color loud enough to make some people wince, I decided maybe a quieter year was in order.    

Pairing the brown vine with silvery grey green seemed like a moody choice.  At first, it even seemed crabby.  But it did not take long for me to fall for it.  This is the best part of gardening with containers-the opportunity to try something new.  I have has these Italian terra cotta urns a long time.  That goat man is a feature of this pot; the blue sedum in front will never obscure that face.  The silver dichondra grows long.  By the end of the summer, it will reach the ground.  The leaves are amazingly shiny.  That surface is a good textural contrast to the felted leaves of the dusty miller.     

The potato vine references the color of the Italian clay. A variety of grey foliaged plants, including Victorian rosemary, sage, variegated licorice, and variegated thyme are talking quietly amongst themselves about texture and form.

The red-brown foliaged hibiscus grows tall and wide.  By summer’s end, it will make a wall of its own at the end of the terrace.  The leaves of pink polka dot plant are green, splashed with pink.  From a distance they look brownish.  The blue flapjack kalanchoe in the small pot is not a grey foliaged plant, but the color harmonizes well with grey.  

A variegated lavender and variegated sedum has the same blue green look as the kalanchoe.  The variegated centerpiece whose name I do not know had decidedly brown stems-a subtle feature that pleases me.  The carex frosted curls is as graceful as can be.

My antique Italian olive jar is home to an olive tree Rob bought me at a nursery in Austin Texas.  This is its first summer outdoors-I usually keep it in the shop greenhouse.  It must be happy-it is growing.  The ruff of santolina adds a little substantive transition between the tree and its pot.  I greatly like how these plantings harmonize with the color of the brick, the furniture, and the old decking.  This has been a fairly easy planting to look after, as all of these plants are drought resistant.   

I am growing two of what I call fancy leaved begonias.  The escargot begonia looks brown, or green, or grey, depending on the light and time of day.  The pepperomias on either side are a dark steely grey.  Though I am a fan of pepperomias in general, I have always shied away from this one.  Some plants are of a color that is hard to use.  I am so glad that this pepperomia and this escargot begonia found each other.  The white arrow leaved caladiums make the dark colors read clearly.  A green backdrop would make the colors of the foreground plants look muddy.  The silver leaved begonia has grown considerably in just 2 months.  The underplanting of green tropical ferns disguise those begonia legs.  So far, so good with these.  I am very careful to keep them as dry as possible, which helps avoid rot and fungus. 

In the driveway, the chocolate coleus makes a very strong statement.  I like it better than anything else I have ever planted in front of this wall.  As this garden is primarily viewed from away and above, a little white in the form of mandevillea, petunias, euphorbia Diamond Frost and 3D osteos keeps things lively.  

The colorblaze Velvet mocha coleus I would use again.  It is a very willing grower.  The color is clear and rich, and does not fade.  It makes a very handsome annual hedge.   

I will be interested to see if the 3D osteospermum come back into bloom in the fall.  But for their stubbornly bushy and mostly green state, I am enjoying what is going on here.  These colors look great with the brown of the driveway brick, and the yellow brown stone walls. 

These bits of brown in the garden-I like them.

Our 5th annual Garden Cruise to benefit the Greening of Detroit was yesterday-all day.  I was relieved that the sky was overcast, and there was a breeze to go along with those temperatures in the low 90’s.  I had gone to the farmer’s market on Saturday-I like to do some cut flowers in my yard, and at the shop.  Krystal, from Julie’s Floral, was happy to oblige.  I liked the white and green zinnias.  Buck was a very good sport-watching me fill his prized stainless steel double boiler with flowers. 

The garden was as ready as I could make it.  The Garden Cruise used to mean that I would pick up and dispose of every stray maple helicopter, and worry over the lack of bloom in the roses.  For the 5th cruise, I was happy to get 85% of the weeds and detritus, and I didn’t worry one bit about the roses.  Why should my roses look any different than anyone else’s right now? 

The centerpiece for the dining table on the deck-6 bunches of Krystal’s short white snapdragons in a terra cotta bowl.  I could not resist the white sweet, and the cippolina onions-they were so beautiful.

My container color scheme at home this year was very different than I have ever done before.  Chocolate and silver foliage.  Pastel colored flowers.  Grey foliaged and brown foliaged begonias, and pepperomia.  After I planted, I worried that it would look terribly dispirited or just too moody, but I have decided I like it.   

I especially like how it features the color and shapes of my Italian terra cotta.  Some pots have no trailers at all.  There were more comments than usual this year about the pots.  Thinking through the visual relationship between a pot and its plants is an important part of good container design. 

I do not plant a lot of flowers in the ground.  These two narrow strips on the driveway are enough for me to explore a color and plant scheme.  The coleus caught my eye first thing this spring.  The feathery juvenile foliage has a great texture, and the color is beautiful. Color Blaze Velvet Mocha is a new proven winners selection.  I can attest to the fact that the growth is vigorous, no Japanese beetles have bothered it, and it is well on its way to the advertised height of 24-36″.  My color scheme began with this gorgeous orangy brown newcomer. 

That tawny chocolate is repeated in the sweet potato vine, and the terra cotta.  Adding silver to the mix made for a strong contrast.  The 3D osteos feature steely white flowers that have a grey cast to them.  They have been no match for this summer’s heat.  When cooler weather returns, I will see many more flowers. 

The wall and driveway look all the better for this chocolate colored hedge. 

I almost never use green foliage, and foliage other than green together, but this I like.

The tour was very well attended-305 gardeners for the tour, and 94 for the reception.  I have posted pictures of the reception on the Detroit Garden Works facebook page, should you be interested.  I could not be happier about the turnout. We will be able to present a better than 10,000.00 check to the Greening of Detroit.   

By later in the afternoon, the heat was starting to get to all of us.  Anyone at my garden after 3pm was invited to cool off.  I liked seeing my garden put to really good use.  To all of you who helped make this event such a success, all my thanks.  Will we do a tour in 2013?  Absolutely.   

Two weeks ago I got a haircut-just this side of a military buzz cut.  I was reacting to the intense heat and the lack of electricity.  I just needed to get that hair off my face, and my neck.  This past week, that reactionary buzz cut was still soaking wet, every day, all day long.  My point?  Reacting to the conditions of the moment sometimes solves a problem.  But not always.  No matter the length or style of my hair, I perspire-copiously.  I cannot wait for the temperatures to cool down, but cutting my hair won’t make this happen any faster.  No matter the season, I have a point of view about the landscape.  My point of view is not so much different than my propensity to sweat.  It is God given, ingrained, instinctive-and above all, stubbornly reactive.  But my expected reaction is not always the best way to cope.  The heat shouldn’t make me throw up my hands in disgust.  It should only make me shower and find a way to cool off more often.  It should make me garden early and late, and not so much the middle of the day.  It should make me watch the need for water, better.

Our high heat and lack of rain has been stubbornly persistent.  This is not Georgia, Alabama,  Florida, or Texas-I live in Michigan.  Typical July weather in Michigan is hot, but not mid to high 90’s hot. Tropically high heat has made every gardeners life tough. Every gardener I know is sweating buckets, and reacting.  None of my plants like being subjected to this blast furnace style weather either.  They react-dramatically.  They shed green leaves.  The leaves on my lindens yellow, and drop.  My dogwoods are in a sustained wilt, no matter how much I water.  They just don’t like this heat.  My magnolias are rife with fungus.  They have been barraged by inclement weather since the April.  My grass is panting. My roses contracted black spot instantly-those long leafless stalks are not so good looking.  I water a section of them-every night.  My stands of Monarda Claire Grace have lost all of their lower leaves to mildew.  I have flowers and sticks to look at.

I have seen a lot of over watered plants.  Though a dip in my fountain makes me feel better and cooler, water does not mitigate the heat.  Dahlias wilt from intense heat, even when they do not need water.  Begonias will rot in an instant, should the water be stepped up in the heat.  A sure sign of overwater in a landscape-yellowing yews. You can smell ground that is overwatered.  Unlike the fresh pungent smell of compost, over watered soil smells rotten-which it is.    

My good friend Julia has thrown in the towel.  She tells me that the romance the over.  This season is a wash.  She cannot wait for the 2013 gardening season.  I understand her frustration.  She has a large garden without any in ground irrigation.  She has been dragging hoses around for weeks.  She must feel like she has a hose duct taped to both hands.  Never mind her efforts-she tells me her garden looks terrible.  Exhausting, this.  The work involved in attempting to intervene in a drought and high heat summer is considerable.  Daunting.  However I recognize that this is her reaction, and no more. 

World weather cycles span more time than a human lifetime, though I remember a season in the late 80’s-intense heat, and drought. I could not sleep for weeks-no air conditioning then.  I was planting gardens and landscapes.  There was a ban on watering.  I worried all night long about what I had planted-would those plants survive.  Reactionary, my initial response.  In retrospect, there was little loss, but lots of worry. 

Given over 30 years gardening at home, and professionally, I am inclined to ascribe the particulars of this particular season to a bigger picture.  This is just one year of many, with its own particular circumstance.  As much as I am inclined to react to the moment, I know better than to do so. As much as I would like to think that my lifetime establishes weather parameters, and thus defines nature-I know this is foolishness. It varies over a time period much longer than a human life.    My reaction to our untoward weather only makes me perspire more.  My patience, in spite of my perspiration, is more useful than my reaction.

This gardening season is not so much my favorite.   But is it what we have.  What we have-I have no plans to react.  My plan is to live, and garden.