September
- October & November"Under the influence of all this loveliness, almost I
am persuaded to love autumn best"
__E.V.Boyle, Sylvana's
Letters to an Unknown Friend, 1899
September brings the first true signs of changing seasons in our garden. Oh, there are a few early mornings in late August when the air holds promise of things to come in - but the chill is burned away with the first rays of the sun and by mid-morning summer returns full force wiping away all thoughts of chilly mornings and crisp, cool days. Usually by late September the nights are cool, if not chilly, and the days are gloriously golden. A lusty gust of wind often scatters oak leaves across the lane and fills the fence row with the colors of Autumn.
A welcome shower has washed the dust off of her face and with summer's heat behind us, the garden begins to restore herself. The scents after a rain are heady, as if the flowers and herbs are giddy from their drink. The lavender and roses are blooming again. The zinnias, coleus and blue salvia flower with renewed vigor, as if they sense this is the last act. In October we will re-plant their beds with iceland poppies, snapdragons and pansies.
Autumn is planting time again for our entire garden. Cool weather vegetables can go in now - fall lettuce, sugar peas, radishes and green onions - any crop that requires cool nights and soft warm days. Every morning the sun peeks into the cottage windows from a slightly more southerly position, lighting the herb beds a little deeper in the shade garden. This means the thyme and sage will be lush and perfect as we begin thinking about Holiday cooking. The citrus trees are heavy with green fruits, holding the promise of lemons, oranges and grapefruit for winter.
In September - Well... it's official... the season has changed! My pre-dawn excursion to the garden just now revealed a waist high mist filling the meadow across the lane. The little owl who resides in the oak tree softly hooted good morning. And, before I could get back in the house I thought a sweater would be most comforting.
September heralds my favorite season, Autumn, in all it's glory. I've heard it described as "that dead season between summer and Christmas", and my husband speaks of a "chill that seeps into his bones." But for me, Autumn is wondrous. Exciting! A time of renovation and innovation. A time of new beginnings.
Each day brings with it the miracle of a new beginning. Many of the moments ahead will be marvelously disguised as ordinary days, but each one of us has the chance to make something extraordinary out of them. —Douglas Pagels

"Best
I love September's yellow, morns of dew-strung gossamer,
Thoughtful days without a stir,
Rooky clamors, brazen leaves,
Stubble dotted o'er with sheaves— More than Spring's bright uncontrol
Suit the Autumn of my soul."
Alex
Smith
September comes with little fanfare to my California garden. Unlike its arrival in more northerly climates, only a barely imperceptible cooling of the days announces the passing of summer into autumn. But the birds who visit my fountains and feeders know, as I do, that a cooler more mellow season is rapidly approaching.
Raucous blue jays, captivating gold finches and energetic woodpeckers announce their joyful anticipation of the passing of summer by continuing to visit and bathe throughout most of the day now. Only during the hottest part of the afternoon do they seek shelter from the sun. A careful observation of their habits during the extreme heat of July and August will reinforce the wisdom of an afternoon siesta in some cool bower. But as September temperatures become more tolerable, the birds and I will gladly renew our habit of spending all morning pursuing the pleasures of our garden. Then after a quiet time, hidden away where it's cool, we'll be able to return to the garden again in late afternoon - a pleasure that is impossible in the heat of high summer evenings when it may not cool to under the century mark until well past dark.
Here are a few gardening links I thought you might enjoy—
In October - Nature's signs of the changing season are abundant around us. Oak leaves are scattered in golden drifts along the lane and piled in the fence rows. Gold finches begin their day splashing in our fountain and demanding seeds at our feeders. The white-crowned sparrows have returned to our garden. I hear their cheerful trills and watch their black and white stripped top-knots bounce under every bush as they feast on end of the summer bounty.
A trip to Wal-Mart reminds me that our modern world has, in many ways, abandoned the natural order of things. Our local warehouse outlet put Halloween costumes and candy on sale in July! The commercial giants force me to make my way through aisle after aisle of Christmas decorations in August, and demand that my shopping be finished before Thanksgiving. As usual I am refusing to comply.
Around here things will follow a traditional path of progression. In October, Broomhilda will occupy a place of prominence in the decor - because she makes me smile. There will be a small wreath of pumpkins and seeds above the kitchen range and , while we don't celebrate Halloween we will acknowledge it - in memory of a simpler time and a gentler world, circa 1953.
O sun and skies and flowers of June,
Count all your boasts together,
Love loveth best of all the year
October's bright blue weather.
Helen
Hunt Jackson
In November -
If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant.
If we did not sometimes taste adversity, prosperity would not be so welcomed.
Charlotte
Bronte