Autumn Grasses

Along with a bevy of flowery blooms, late summer and autumn showcases the graceful good looks of native grasses. Native grasses are attractive year-round but really strut their stuff in autumn. I’ve grown the shade-loving Inland Sea Oats, Chasmanthium latifolium for years and love them, but grasses requiring the intense Texas sun I could only admire in other gardens. Now that my front garden is sun-drenched, native grasses have a place and they have shined.

I’m besotted with Gulf Muhly, Muhlenbergia capillaris. I was never successful in growing these pink, frothy pretties, until appropriate, sunny conditions developed. I now have plenty of sun-baked spots and four new Gulf Muhly have nestled in nicely.

Two older Gulf Muhlies have grown well in another spot for a couple of years, but in my re-vamped sunshiny space, there are an additional four individuals. These muhlies are slender, shapely green throughout spring and summer, but in October, their pink-purple plumes add gauzy elegance and a swath of color in the last days of the growing season.

A closer view of this purple-pink magic.

I planted an arc of four muhlies, though only one has powered up the color in full. These have been in the ground less than a year and since this photo was taken, the other three, while still behind in the fluff, have filled out well. Gorgeous whether in sunny or cloudy conditions, they add softness and movement in the garden.

I have successfully grown a couple of Lindheimer’s or Big Muhly, Muhlenbergia lindheimeri, for a few years. Another beautiful plant year round, the lacelike plumes develop in autumn, catching the sun’s rays and swaying with the wind.

These three fit well together in the garden!

The halo of bright green behind the middle Big Muhly is a Bamboo Muhly, Muhlenbergia dumosa. Native to Arizona, it’s a large grass that grows well in sun and shade. The even-taller yellow flowers belong to Plateau Goldeneye

This is my oldest Big Muhly and it’s always a stunner.

Spring and summer silvery Mexican Feather Grass, Nassella tenuissima, have switched their colors to autumn toasty, with a hint of sage. These small grasses fit well in a variety of settings and like all the native grasses, are tough, hardy plants. I’ve had more luck with this grass in part-shade, but am pleased with how they’ve fared in full sun.

In the new sun garden I’ve added three Little Bluestem, Schizachyrium scoparium. I like this little grass, tidy and dainty, though confess some disappointment that its autumn color hasn’t yet materialized as advertised.

The photo is busy. The two Bluestems are overtaken by some pushy Rock Rose, Pavonia lasiopetala.

You can see the green clumps and the stems that shoot upwards in fall. There are even some cottony seed heads already formed on one of the plants.

This spot actually gets a little bit of fall shade as the angle of the sun is lower, so I’m in the process of moving the trio to a nearby spot which I think will get full sun in summer and fall. In fact, the third of the trio I’ve already moved:

This one has some nice burgundy/rusty foliage action, not fully in fall garb, but more in line with the typical autumn colors of Little Bluestem. This individual never developed its vertical stems because when I allow my younger cat, Lena, in the garden (supervised and only for a few minutes!) she loves to munch this particular grass.

Maybe Little Bluestem needs something eating it to get fall color??

This post completes a short series highlighting the autumn Texas garden delights of birds, blooms, pollinators, and grasses. Our summers are hot, but the payoff in utilizing native plants in our wonderfully long growing season is an autumn filled with color, movement, texture, and life. And isn’t that what’s a garden should be?

The Spring Garden

Despite late freezes, drought, and earlier-than-normal warm temperatures, it’s been a lovely, affirming spring in my garden. Plants are growing, leafing out, and blooming in their typical order and roughly on their same schedule. Some, like the multitudes of Tradescantia, Spiderwort, were so eager for spring to happen that they’re over-performing. Of course that has nothing to do with the fact that I routinely fail to control them by weeding during fall and winter. Ahem.

My Spiderwort are pass-alongs varieties and they’ve mix-n-matched for years, so I don’t have a definitive species. Because of their height, I suspect T. gigantea, but regardless of species, the flowers are stunning in shades of purples with a few pinky hues. Some are pure lavender, with rounded petals,

…and some are deeper lavender with or triangulated petals

Certain individuals bloom in shades trending pink. These below sport ruffly petals.

No matter their color or form, Spiderworts are favorites of the honeybees. Flowering early and for most of the spring season, bees are keeping busy with the nectar sipping and the pollen collecting.

The first yellow in my garden is typically Golden Groundsel, Packera obovata. The little group I have brightens a shady spot.

The groundsel echos the Adirondack chairs: cheery blooms, comfortable chairs.

Last year’s deep, destructive freeze ended 2021 hopes for the luscious clusters of blooms from Mountain Laurel, Sophora secundiflora. This year, both of my Mountain Laurels flowered beautifully, if too briefly. These blooms are known for their grape juice fragrance. Weirdly, I can’t detect their very sweet fragrance unless my nose is right up in the flowers or at night, with whiffs of the grape scent on the wind.

The irises I grow, all pass-along plants, have bloomed prolifically this spring, more so than in many years.

I think every single bulb, even those that I separated and replanted in the fall, have pushed up stalks and adorned those stalks with flowers. The irises are still going strong and are now joined by European poppies. Tall, leafy American Basket flower stalks await their turn to shine in the sun, while a couple of Martha Gonzalez rose bushes add pops of rich red and burgundy-tinged foliage.

Spiderworts, irises, and poppies are all plants-gone-wild this spring, but the heat and drought have sadly rendered the columbines less floriferous. As well, given my now full-sun front garden, columbines won’t grow there–they fry in Texas sun.

This one, as well as a couple of others, still have a place in the back garden. I plan to add more in the shadier areas because I can’t resist these graceful additions to the garden.

Hill Country Penstemon, Penstemon triflorus, are in top form this year. Hummingbird moths and Horsefly-like carpenter bees are regular visitors.

I wonder if pollinators have a hard time deciding? Hmmm. Penstemons or Spiderworts? What am I in the mood for??

Of course, it’s not only gorgeous bloom time, but foliage presents a worthy rival in beauty and form during verdant spring. This silvery-green Mexican Feathergrass, Nassella tenuissima, waves, adding movement and action in the garden. In the past, I’ve witnessed migrating Painted Buntings nibbling at the tiny seeds that feathergrass produces. I wonder if those colorful birds will find this patch as they move through my garden this spring?

The drought continues and summer will be a bear, but I’m grateful for the gentle artistry and renewal of life that is spring.

What’s in your spring garden this year? I hope it’s colorful and ever-changing and provides a respite from the world’s troubles.

Happy spring gardening!

Foliage Follow-Up, November 2014: The Non-Freeze

My gardens are slowing down in preparation for winter, but haven’t experience the frosty nip that was promised earlier in the week. Thank goodness!  I’m not quite ready to give in to the dark season.  Not Just Yet.

Focusing on mid-November foliage, I’m joining with Pam at Digging for Foliage Follow-Up.

In one corner of my garden with dappled light most of the day and some direct sun off and on, are a couple of favorite foliage vignettes.  One such is of Iris straps, Blue MistflowerConoclinium coelestinum,  and cobalt-blue containerized succulent Ghost Plant, Graptopetalum paraguayense.

IMGP1798.new

Planted alongside that mix are several  Dianella or Variegated Flax Lily, Dianella tasmanica ‘Variegata’. IMGP1865.new

I love the wide, grass-like foliage of Dianella with its snazzy white stripes down the sides.IMGP2017.new

When a freeze was predicted this week, I covered the Dianella, though my concerns were unwarranted.  Last winter, I covered all of my Dianella each time the temperature sank into the ’20s, especially for extended periods. They soldiered through winter like the garden champs they are and thrived in our long, hot summer. Dianella nicely combine with Iris and Soft-leaf Yucca straps,IMGP1864.new

…as well as with these snuggly Love-Critters.

IMGP1862.new

Ghost Plant is unkillable:  it goes for months without water, isn’t fazed by freezes (or at least mine haven’t been), can re-grow if a stem is broken.

IMGP2642.new

My kinda plant.

Maiden GrassMiscanthus sinensis ‘Adagio’ is in its glory now.IMGP1868.new

IMGP1870.new

IMGP1872.new

The beautiful seed heads reflect the sun as it briefly peeked through our mostly cloudy week.

Toasty-seeded Inland Sea OatsChasmanthium latifolium and the green swath of Cast Iron Plant,  Aspidistra elatior are a striking pair.

IMGP1881.new

Added to this scene is Purple HeartSetcreasea pallida, which dramatizes that story a bit.

IMGP1882.new

Big MuhlyMuhlenbergia lindheimeri and Soft-leaf YuccaYucca recurvifolia  are cool weather troopers.IMGP2399.new

Graceful while also lending structure to the garden, these two are beautiful companions throughout the year, hot or cold.

IMGP2518.new

I took this photo of  evergreen Yarrow, Achillea millefolium and Chile Pequin, Capsicum annuum var. glabriusculum,  just before what was supposed to be a freezing night.  I figured the fruits wouldn’t survive the plunging temperatures and wanted to record them for posterity.IMGP2529.new

I’m happy to report that the fruits are still available for dining by interested birds.

I love the twisty-curvy foliage of Corkscrew RushJuncus effusus spiralis, silhouetted over a pair of Mexican FeathergrassNassella tenuissima.

IMGP1875.new

Finally, the leaf change is beginning on my Red Oak, Quercus coccinea.

IMGP2641.new Here in Central Texas, our tree foliage color change occurs later than that of our northern kin, but beautiful and appropriate for our climate and region. There will be more of this in the weeks to come.

Digging hosts Foliage Follow-Up–drop in for a look at November foliage fanfare.