Autumnal signs of the times

I increasingly think of August as the first month of autumn, a fact reinforced this weekend by distinctly cooler, though by no means chilly, nights, and meadows festooned in spiders' webs glistening with dew. Twice on Sunday morning a Willow Warbler sang briefly from a nearby hedgerow – a sign of hastening southward movement by a trans-Saharan migrant that passes through our valley in spring and autumn. By mid-September, most will have left the UK, not returning until next April. 

The garden is putting on its second biggest growth spurt of the year, with treacherous bramble 'cables' extending across paths virtually overnight, ready to lacerate an unwary leg, and weed seedlings germinating by the score. These signals from nature drop the broadest of hints that now is the season for propagation of so many garden plants, but also one of the busiest times for pruning, mowing, cutting back and generally keeping everything looking as fresh as possible. This has been nigh-on impossible for the last six years, when, come mid-August, I had long-since surrendered to a tide of autumnal decay ushered in by weeks of rain and wind. This year is different and it has been a pleasure to work through borders cutting back flowered hardy Geraniums, Astrantias and oriental poppies, making way for a later cast of grasses, Rudbeckias, Asters and Crocosmias. I have trimmed yew and box hedges, proudly pruned our Wisteria at the horticulturally correct time, and yesterday picked a couple of perfectly ripe figs. Soon these most decadent of summer fruits will also have tipped into autumn, splitting open to be feasted on by wasps and Red Admirals.