September is always such a bitter sweet month. I love the cooler temps. But, I have already begun the long slow mourn into winter. That feeling actually begins when the daylilies bloom. Perhaps it is the ephemeral nature of daylilies, their single day of glory and the daily deadheading. Even that word, deadheading, brings with it a certain gloom. And when I see that there is only one more bud on a cane, I go deeper into mourning stage.
I know, I know. September brings turning leaves and winter squash and migrating birds and the sweet smell of bonfires. But the gardens are definitely fading, and no amount of strategically place mum pots can tune that fade into anything but what it is. A signal that the garden is going into a long sleep.