Cures for Autumn Melancholy
Wild asters, daisies and other varieties taken along
the Whirlpool Gorge Hiking Trail.
Photo by Elizabeth Licata.
By Elizabeth Licata

I turn to thoughts of late autumn gardening with great reluctance. As we go to press, the temps are still in the high seventies, and area gardens and fields look green and lush, with trees only beginning to change color.

Fields in particular hold my interest at this time of year; fall wildflowers are always very beautiful. (Spring and fall are the best times for wildflowers.) Invasive or not, allergy-provoking or not, I do love goldenrod, wild daisies, and wild asters. The fall flowers offered for cultivation aren’t nearly as interesting. Garden mums usually grow in tight, still bunches: not much grace there. Autumn Joy sedum is, I’m sorry, just plain ugly, and I don’t find the cultivated asters nearly as interesting as their wild cousins. I will allow that Rose of Sharon (Hibiscus syriacus), Japanese anemone (all too infrequently seen in Western New York), and the various grasses are gorgeous fall perennials. And, of course, dahlias, though they must be taken in.

It’s all over now, though. If you’re looking out the window, you’re seeing nothing terribly pleasant—maybe a few ratty mums. And a whole lot of leaves still to rake. Still, there are a couple of good things about the end of the outdoor garden season. One, the indoor gardening season is about to start, and two, local greenhouses become warm, comforting places to hang out.

Bring on the mums
Having made derogatory comments about mums, I must hasten to add that I am not referring to the spectacular varieties that the Buffalo and Erie County Botanical Gardens is currently presenting in their 100th Chrysanthemum Show, which starts October 29 and runs through November. I may scoff at the silly-looking bunches you see outside every Wegman’s or Home Depot, but I would hardly cavil at, for example, a standard mum which has been trained to grow seven feet high, or the spider mum Senkyo Usozo, which features fifteen inches of yellow rays. Or how about Golden Rain, a variety of spider mum whose petals curl every which-way, much like fancy ribbons on gift packages? These are mums worth spending time with.

The Botanical Gardens has been perfecting their mum show for 100 years, and it shows. There are eighty-nine varieties represented in the show, and more than 3,000 plants. Even the small, bunchy ones look spectacular presented in bulk, like rolling hills of color. There will also be some special Japanese strains, which are trained over frames to look like a cascading waterfall. The Gardens plan plenty of special events to coincide with the mum show centennial, including Ikebana (Japanese flower arranging) demonstrations, gardening workshops, festive receptions, and more.

Fall gardening fun
chrysanthemum
Chrysanthemum close-up,
courtesy of the Botanical Gardens.
And no, I am not referring to cleaning and oiling your gardening tools for the next season. I rarely do this, so I’m not about to lecture others about it. I’m talking about the fun of indoor bulb potting. By now, you should have already planted a bunch of bulbs (if not, there’s still time, and plenty of online sales), and you may have some left over. If you have a cold but not freezing area (a root cellar; a protected, but not heated, garage), you can force some bulbs for enjoyment in January and February. Pot them up in small pots with the bulbs very tightly packed, and their noses showing above the soil. Use pots with drainage, or, if not, just be sure not to over-water them. Water them and place them in a dark, cold-but-not-freezing place (around forty-fifty degrees is best). Check on them every so often to make sure they are moist. Hyacinths only need about eight to ten weeks, then they can be taken out. Experts recommend that the pots be slowly exposed to light and warmth, but whatever you do, once they begin to bloom (sometime in January), give them indirect light and not too warm a position. They will last longer. Tulips need at least twelve weeks of chilling, so these will bloom in late February. There is lots of variance here; after all, we are dealing with the Mother Nature + Human Error equation. Expect a few failures, but don’t let them discourage you from trying again.

For easy gratification, paperwhites rarely disappoint. I like them potted in stones, with the stones allowed to partially cover them, in a clear vase, so you can check the water level and make sure it is barely touching the bottom of the bulb. Red and green glass stones take on a festive, holiday air, while clear glass looks contemporary, and river rocks look most natural. I don’t like dirt with these, because it’s harder to check the water. A tall vase will provide support; with low containers, you will need to tie them. Ribbons provide a nice touch. These make good gifts, because the fun of watching the plants grow will last for weeks after you have given the potted bulbs (post-chilling period, of course).

Half the fun of this job is, of course, going out and buying the pots, vases, and stones: you’ll find the best deals on stones at hobby shops, and the only time I enter Wal-Mart all year is to get their incredibly cheap glass vases, perfect for paperwhites.


Elizabeth Licata is editor of this publication.


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