“Oh, it’s a long, long while from May to December, but the days grow short when you reach September…” This plaintive refrain always runs through my mind as the growing season winds down. It has been a lovely summer! Abundant rain has kept the tapestry of violets, dandelions, and various annual and perennial grasses that I call lawn, green. Usually by this time of year it looks tired and rather moth-eaten.

Even more surprising, the pond in the woodland garden, which regularly dries up by the middle of July, is full! All around the edges, tall stalks of brilliant red cardinal flower (Lobelia cardinalis) have sprung up in the shallow water. I have never planted this native wildflower but here it is, and, also, a single plant of blue Lobelia siphilitica. It is a real joy to have this unexpected extension of the growing season.

Although there is a distinct feeling of autumn in the air, it has not yet turned the swamp maples to flame, and late flowering Hydrangea “Tardiva” is still in full bloom. Winterberry is covered with fruits just beginning to turn red, and ordinary Jack-in-a-pulpit is very showy just now with stalks bearing large clusters of bright orange berries.

Thus, the remaining days of this gardening season are dwindling down to a precious few, but it is still warm enough for lying in the sun on the bench in the woodland garden. I love this bench. It is ten feet long and 18 inches wide made from a single slab of pine with a live edge, which means that the rough bark is still intact.

Another late season pleasure is the jungle of tender plants on the terrace: Brugmansia trees in full bloom; rivers of sweet potato vine pouring over the sides of their pots and wandering around the legs of the table and chairs. Black-eyed Susan vines climb up and over an archway, big bushes of red-orange coleus contrast with the yellow furniture, and dark red leaves of cannas set off their own bright orange or red flowers.

The cutting garden is just a half moon of earth next to the terrace where I plant two six packs of zinnias, which furnish me with dozens of bouquets of pink and orange flowers all season long. I love hot pink and orange together. If you see bouquets of pink and orange zinnias around town, you can be pretty sure they came from my garden. Look for them at Queen Street Gifts, next door at Newtown Color Center, and down the road at Bagel Delight.

These most ordinary of annuals provide an inordinate amount of pleasure. I think that is the secret of why gardeners seem to have more fun than nongardeners. We get a kick out of simple things — from the first snowdrop in the spring to the last ripe tomato on the vine. And anyone can garden. You do not have to have any particular talent or be exceptionally strong. You just have to love what you do and love will find a way.

Love your gardening, till next time!

Sydney Eddison has written seven books on gardening. In addition, she collaborated with the Color Wheel Company on The Gardener’s Color Wheel: A Guide to Using Color in the Garden.

For her work as a writer, gardener, and lecturer, she received The Connecticut Horticultural Society’s Gustav A. L. Melquist Award in 2002; The New England Wild Flower Society Kathryn S. Taylor Award in 2005; in 2006, the Federated Garden Clubs of Connecticut’s Bronze Medal. In 2010, her book Gardening for a Lifetime: How to Garden Wiser as You Grow Older won the American Horticultural Society Book Award.

A former drama teacher, lifelong gardener, and Newtown resident for sixty years, Eddison’s love of the English language has found its most satisfying expression in four volumes of poetry: Where We Walk: Poems rooted in the soil of New England (2015); Fragments of Time: Poems of gratitude for everyday miracles (2016); All the Luck: Poems celebrating love, life, and the enduring human spirit (2018); and Light Of Day: Poems from a lifetime of looking and listening (2019).