Down here, fall colors abound in fruits and wildflowers. You just have to know where to look.
By JOHN A. STARNES JR.
Published October 11, 2003
[Photos by: John A. Starnes Jr.]
The Odontonema Firespike
Eranthemum
"There are no seasons in Florida." That's the refrain from northern transplants who have fled the menacing icy roads for sparkling, balmy bays.
So we don't have an in-your-face, rock 'n' roll autumn with a pyrotechnic light show of flame-colored leaves, but what we do have is like a string quartet accompanying a slideshow of nature's changes. Our autumn is more Enya than Ozzy Osbourne.
By now, Florida roadsides boast drifts of wild asters, their lavender-pink daisies swayed by breezes. Invite hybrids of them into your landscape to honor autumn while filling your vases with delicate charm. Wild liatris and solidago add purples, golds and dramatic vertical forms.
Our maples, sweet gums and sycamores are shifting from emerald to olive; then to beige and finally yellow by Halloween. Crape myrtles will even offer reds and yellows, as native plums and elms discreetly disrobe when we're not looking. Suddenly, by Thanksgiving, they boast branches as naked as any up North.
The autumn cool-down is cherished by us all as curtains flutter in cool night air scented by Four O'Clocks and jessamine winding down from summer's excess.
The shorter days have us re-setting the timers on our garden lighting, and the cooler air is punctuated by the beautiful "cheep" of cardinals settling in for the winter in oak trees.
Northern autumns can tax the soul with the frosty deaths of cherished garden plants. Yards then lie bleak for six to eight months. A Florida autumn sees a cornucopia of ripening papayas and bananas, the first blush of yellow and gold on citrus fruits, the colorful plumping of muscadine grapes and passion fruits, the sensuous softening of avocados and mangos into flavorful perfection. Heat stressed roses suddenly bud again, as do lovely tropical perennial flowers such as white Barleria, bright red Odontonema Firespike, and as fall deepens, the stunningly blue Eranthemum nervosum. A keen eye will notice many more.
No fall in Florida? Are you kidding?
- John A. Starnes Jr., born in Key West, is an avid organic gardener and rosarian who studies, collects, cultivates and hybridizes roses for the diverse regions of Florida. He can be reached at his new e-mail address: JohnAStarnes@aol.com
