I mean, really, this fall has been nearly devoid of color, and I'm not one bit happy about it. Last year, I wrote rapturous melodies about the extraordinary color we were having. This fall, not so much. Only last week, we had some cool nights and warmer days along with a good rain of two inches at my house. Cool nights and warm days prime the pump for a good display, and this afternoon as I walked around the garden just perusing what is left; what needs a bit more mulch; and where oh where will I plant the rest of these bulbs; I was astounded at some of the color. I sighed in happiness at the beauty, and so, I guess I can wait for spring. This time of year I crave color more than a gluten free snickerdoodle cookie (they are my favorite cookie above all). I can't...

red tulips with Hakonechloa 'All Gold' Once upon a time, there was a very earnest young gardener who imagined a field of tulips, 'Red Emperor' of course. She bought a big bag at the local store, came home, gathered her gardening bucket, her special bulb transplanter and gloves. Going outside, she dug holes at least three times as deep as the bulbs and then ever so gently placed the precious tulips in the ground. She heard a chattering in the trees above her, but, in a zen of planting pleasure, she ignored it. Five hundred red bulbs later and covered in dirt, she came inside, promptly ordered pizza for the kids and collapsed. The next spring, she waited in anticipation for her red carpeted masterpiece . . . and got . . . nearly . . . nothing. Between the squirrels, moles and voles, her tulips became a winter smorgasbord....

So farewell—to the little good you bear me. Farewell? a long farewell to all my greatness! This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hopes, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honors thick upon him; The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root, And then he falls as I do. Henry the Eighth, by William Shakespeare Trailing violas are a color echo for purple cabbage in my front garden The end of autumn is often likened to death. My Grandma Nita was consumed with this thought every fall, and the season began a sadness which didn't lift until the first buds of spring. However, I, being an aficionado of autumn, have never believed the comparison fair. Sure, leaves lose their chlorophyll and fall from the trees. The...

All week we've been flirting with the frost, but despite cooler temperatures with one morning being 34F, even the coleus still live. I must say I'm glad for I will miss these warm weather friends when they finally curl up their leaves for good and flop over. According to the forecast, it won't be long now. Tonight, however, Bear and friends can trick or treat in the comfort of a balmy 65F, while coleus still soldier on with the pumpkins. Will let you know when frost finally does touch the pumpkin, and in the meantime, I hope you eat lots of candy. I know I have. I feel very sweet indeed.