Out in the Garden - The Late Summer Pollinator Garden

The Pollinator Garden offers a dynamic and ever-changing display that is stunning on any day of the year and I’ve relished this summer’s show. Now that the rain is returning it marks a shift in the cycle of growth & rest and I wanted to take note of what makes this current moment special. 

The plants have been working hard all summer long, offering up a tapestry of color and texture through hot, sun-filled days and months with no rainfall. After this September rain it feels like the Garden is letting out a collective sigh and relaxing into the weight of it all. By this time in the season, many plants are getting ready to rest. They lean on their neighbors and move closer to the soil. Some fool me into believing they will bloom forever (I’m looking at you, Echinacea purpurea 'Magnus', Geranium ‘Rozanne’ and Hydrangea paniculata 'Fire Light'). Others are just getting started and have been building up energy all summer long so that they can burst into flower as their neighbors take a step back. 

A few examples come to mind as I walk through the garden. I notice the Hylotelephium spectabile (showy stonecrop) is just starting to blush pink while Solidago rugosa ‘Fireworks’ (goldenrod) commands attention as it sends out sprays of bright yellow. Grasses bend and sway, creating a shimmery curtain that softens edges and lends an ethereal quality. Asters offer classic late season color with Symphyotrichum oblongifolium ‘October Skies’ showing no signs of slowing down on its delicate blue flowers and Symphyotrichum novae-angliae (New England aster) giving hints of the deep purple cloud it will become. Meanwhile, Aster tataricus ‘Jindai’ hasn’t even started blooming so we have something to look forward to. 

These waves of color and bloom are a delight for the eyes but they also serve an important ecological purpose. By strategically having something in bloom every season the garden supports a diverse population of pollinators, including for those times early and late in the year when food is scarce. Pause for a moment and you start to see more than plants - a spider web glistens, a centipede scuttles along the ground, a cricket bounces between leaves.

There is a sense of collaboration to the plants and a balanced rhythm to the landscape. Not to get too philosophical about it all but, for me, it’s a timely reminder that there is value in us all blooming at different times. When we need rest, it’s ok to take a step back and lean on others knowing that you will offer the same to them when it’s your turn to be sturdy and full of flowers.

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