Brrr! Jack Frost pounced on my garden the other night. Buh-bye fragile zinnias and morning glories. Hello, enduring green things and dazzling fall foliage!
A virtual tour for you:
SWOOSH! We’re standing behind the house now, with a view of the boxwood garden. In addition to the boxwood, please note the pair of dwarf, weeping crab-apple trees.
We received these trees as a wedding gift back in 2008. They came with a card that read “In honor of your marriage, I thought I should give you crabs.”
At the north end of the boxwood garden is an ancient, silver-leaved maple tree, with pachysandra at its feet. I recently filled the bed with dozens of daffodils for a spectacular April show.
Continuing northward, we encounter a bluestone path that leads up the hill to a trio of white pines. Sally forth, my friend.
Looking west, through the white pines.
Beyond the pines, to our right, is a long row of arborvitae. These provide welcome shelter for wintering birds.
To our left is the top terrace of the Serpentine Garden. We won’t visit that garden today, but you can see it in all its springtime glory by clicking this link.
At the end of the arborvitae hedge is the kitchen garden. Shall we step inside?
Our view from the kitchen garden’s front gate. The central path is flanked by narrow beds of snap dragons. What troopers these plants are — they merely yawned at our recent frost.
The snapdragons are members of the tall ‘Rocket’ series. I have them in yellow, lavender, bi-colored, and burgundy. This last variety is pictured above.
Did you know that snapdragons make reliable, long-lasting cut flowers? I like to poke them into early-autumn arrangements for my entrance hall table. Click here for more details and pictures.
I’ve already harvested most of the kitchen garden crops, with the exception of these scallions…
And these onions.
I’ll bet this bed looks empty to you.
But if we dig through the soil…
We’ll find potatoes! Actually, I planted 3 beds of potatoes last spring. And now that my cellar is cool enough to accommodate them, I can harvest the spuds.
Opposite the kitchen garden is the pool garden. To the disappointment of the statuary here, the pool was closed last week. Oh, to have an indoor pool, just as you do.
Behind the pool and kitchen gardens is the Woodland Garden. Shall we pass beneath the arch in order to see it?
The woodland is currently wearing a blanket of leaves. In time I’ll shred these fallings with the nifty leaf-shredding gadget I described in this post. Shredded leaves are nature’s mulch.
The woodland plants are mostly dormant now. But we can take a ride on this slatted wood swing…
And photograph our shoes.
At the north end of the woodland garden, defoliated trees permit a view of a Hudson River tributary. In winter, the tributary makes an inviting home for ducks and geese. They quack and squawk contentedly no matter how cold the weather.
And speaking of cold weather, there’s a sudden chill in the air. Shall we head back to the house?
Here’s a rear-view of Clover Hill’s many rooftops. The property’s original structure (near left) was built in 1794. The rest of the house was constructed between 1826 and 1870. I designed a small herb garden in the “L”-shaped nook behind the north and west wings of the house. We can visit that garden some other time.
Meanwhile, let’s tuck into some Afternoon Tea in the parlor. Then you can tell me all about your own autumn garden. Have you harvested all of your crops — or did the critters get ’em first? I’m all ears, baby.
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