Part of the joy of waking early is seeing the garden through unusual atmospheric phenomena. Beaming from a warm golden sunrise. Covered in powder from hoar frost. Or, heavy dew that embelishes every panicle and spiderweb with diamonds.
Foggy mornings are also special. I have sat and watched fog move like a ship slowly across the sea as it drapes everything in a shroud of gray. Even sometimes when caught by wind it performs acrobatics swirling as it comes out of the forests beyond our garden to envelope the space.
From the perspective of design, fog also shows plantings in a new light. Now those emergents that have pierced through the layer of foliage below are brought into even stronger relief against the borrowed landscape beyond as it blurs from view.
And, a foggy November morning is an excellent time to study textures and form in the garden. What remains of the plants’ work is on full display with their black and brown weathered creations against the gray shroud behind. A trick I learned years ago to determine if a planting had good structure and texture was to make color images black and white. And with the fog enhancing the contrast, I did just that with these images.
Lilium formosanum (Formosan lily)
As my eyes scan the beds, I see the dark stems of Lilium formosanum (Formosan lily), whose flowers bloomed in the height of summer. Now, their seedheads are suspended above the fray. For the rest of winter the will stand stolid as narrow skyscrapers above the slumbering plant community below.
Helianthus radula (rayless sunflower)
I squat down to see the effect through Helianthus radula (rayless sunflower), a quirky native that produces button flowers in fall that become seedheads. I make a note that once they dry I need to collect seed for next year as this species is on my list of wanting more. The birds will make quick work of them if I don’t.
Eutrochium fistulosum (hollow joe pye weed)
In the distance I see the rising spires of Eutrochium fistulosum (hollow joe pye weed). The leaves are now dark brown with fluffy seedheads above. I saved this plant years ago after it was bulldozed in a power line clearing, and from that clump it has produced many progeny. I notice that I missed a late morning glory that squirmed its way up the plant to set seed, and I’ll undoubtedly have to wrestle the stems free of its vines yet again next year.
Helianthus argophyllus (silver-leaf sunflower)
I turn to look at the patch and see the silhouettes of Helianthus argophyllus (silver-leaf sunflower) against the sky. I celebrated this ruderal in an earlier post this year, and it has now finished flowering. Karen has even collected some of the seedheads as they are quite ornamental after flowering.
Helianthus angustifolius (swamp sunflower)
Helianthus angustifolius (swamp sunflower) also rises high against the gray. It has grown too thick in this spot, and I will be lifting it and relocating it to our swale in the backyard soon.
Hyptis alata (clustered bushmint)
One of my favorite perennials for winter interest is Hyptis alata (clustered bushmint). It flowers in September, and after bloom the seedheads last all the way into spring. Spiderwebs are draped like high wires between the plants.
Yes, there is much to appreciate on foggy mornings while you can. By now, the fog is lifting, and so has my spirit of seeing the garden in a different way.
KEEP GROWING
