My aspens are just starting to drop their leaves. By the end of October they will be barren, but in the mean time they will put on a great show.
Three pairs were planted in a triangle pattern, about twelve ft apart. They're about 35 ft tall. The space in between houses two chairs and a set of very musical wind chimes. Because of the shape of the "windows" and because of its high "ceiling," I call it "the cathedral." It's the second best place to linger in the yard after the hammock which is set in the afternoon shade of some really nice alligator junipers.
Fortunately, it's unseasonably warm here. Highs are still in the high eighties. Lows are in the fifties. I'm hoping for a long and gentle descent into fall so that roses one and all will be able to stretch out their little root systems into the compacted, poor soil.
I, too, love fall for its crisp mornings and clear afternoons. But there aren't many deciduous plants here, so there isn't much going on in the way of autumn leaf color apart from the aspens.
I, too, live in fear of what winter might bring for my roses. Two years ago I planted the first sixteen roses to go into the ground on this property. Today none of those is alive. I'm hoping that failure was more due to my own faults as a gardener than it was due to some inevitable feature of the weather and the way it must affect roses here. Sometimes in life you do what you can and find out what happens.
