Owls call and bats flit at dusk. Symbolic of the season are cool nights, the trilling of meadow song, and dew-drenched mornings heading for the school bus. Falling acorns “ping.” Pinkletinks resume their chorus, responding to cool, damp nights. Leopard and green frogs, their larger cousins, are cavorting on grassy lawns.
In the evenings, we may come face to startling face with large green katydids clinging to screen doors. In daytime, it is running into spider webs, plastering our faces with “spidey” silk. Signs that the year is turning.
R.I.P., Trip Barnes
Many are remembering Trip — no surname needed — and trying to count up the numbers of lives and hilarious stories in which he was a character. Having had a famously rowdy youth and many capers, Trip, once reformed, was an authentic and concerned elder — albeit still susceptible to the temptations of pushing the envelope. Perhaps one of the most enduring parts of Trip’s Island saga is reflected in his supporting others’ way to sobriety.
Acorn lore
The pinging sound of acorns as they fall, mentioned above, caused me to check whether this might be a mast year. No, it is not a mast year; however, 2025 was. What is mast, and what is a mast year? And what is hard mast, or soft mast?
Masting is the irregular production of bumper crops of seed that are consumed by wildlife, leading to population fluctuations. Hard mast is seed of trees and shrubs we might call nuts, such as acorns, beechnuts, and hazelnuts. Soft mast is seed of brambles, blueberries, and greenbriar.
Wikipedia has lots more on this phenomenon, or fact of nature, at bit.ly/W_Masts, but the takeaway for the Island person on the street is masting’s influence on white-footed mice and ticks: “When a mast seeding event occurs, the population of white-footed mice also increases, which has been shown in turn to increase instances of Lyme disease, since these mice are hosts for ticks.”
Dwarf vitex
Island gardens are holding more vitex (Vitex agnus-castus), long appreciated in Southern ones. Some of these plants, in ideal locations, grow to be quite large, say 12 feet in height by about 15 feet wide, and add wonderful blazes of color where growing happily.
And if you do not have that kind of space? Luckily, more compact vitex varieties are available. Look for ‘Violet Mist,’ ‘Blue Diddley,’ and ‘Blue Puffball,’ more compact vitex for smaller spaces. Midsize vitex cultivars require about eight feet by 10 feet: ‘Galactic Pink,’ ‘Queen Bee,’ ‘Delta Blues,’ and ‘Flipside.’
About taste there is no disputing, but compared with the “wonderful blazes” of blue-violet forms, pink and white vitex cultivars seem almost counterintuitive, and hardly worth the trouble to plant. Yet, in some gardens and sitings, they will be good fits.
Plant vitex in full sun in ordinary, well-drained soil. In sunny locations, vitex are butterfly magnets; keep your eyes open for spectacular specimens. While vitex tolerate some shade, flowering will be sparser. They reliably sprout from the crown if winterkilled.
Bald cypress
As with vitex’s long association with the South, the mere mention of “bald cypress” brings to mind images of the Florida Everglades or Louisiana bayous. In fact, Taxodium distichum, bald cypress, is actually found growing naturally as far north as Delaware and Indiana.
I decided to try to dry a swale, a location that wants to become, inconveniently, a flooded vernal pool or wetland, using bald cypress. Chief River Nursery supplied the liners. Four saplings grew well in pots, and went into the ground last fall. They survived the winter, several floodings, and deer, and appear to be growing well.
The stately deciduous conifers are associated with swamps and lands that are damp or wet, but are actually also found growing on dry land, such as at Polly Hill Arboretum. The wood is durable, stable, rot-resistant, and prized for many purposes. While being conifers technically makes bald cypress softwoods, the lumber’s characteristics align more with hardwoods.
Look for the several bald cypress at Polly Hill Arboretum. When fall approaches, bald cypress shed their needles, but not before they have become a beautiful pinkish cinnamon color. I look forward to this eventually with our four plants!
In the garden
Take a hard look at your yew and boxwood. Right now is a good time to perform pruning that is more severe than “minor.”
Keep a sharp eye out for bird- and mammal-sown perennial invasives, such as Virginia creeper, porcelain berry, and English ivy. These all grow fast and strangle their hosts, and are looking to use any plant as a means of support.
Selective cutting back of perennials continues. We note that deer have already arrived to perform these tasks in numerous gardens. Perennial foxglove, Coreopsis verticillata, early asters, echinacea, mayapple (Podophyllum), Siberian iris — anything tatty whose looks would be improved by fresh new basal growth may be cut back now.
Annuals, too: Deadhead to keep flowers coming. As daylight hours shorten, it may be a challenge to keep them looking good. In that case, cut off at the base, avoiding soil disruption, and chuck onto the compost. Some annuals here are actually perennials in their places of origin, and may be classed as tender perennials. Verbena bonariensis is an example, and will persist or self-sow.
Did you propagate any mums? Plug them in gaps now, or check garden centers for filler pots of the same, or ornamental kales. Whether you clean out your beds or let them stand as is, the cooler weather makes a good juncture for adding compost and leaf mold to gaps.
By summer’s end, many lilacs look bad. The foliage is susceptible to fungal diseases such as powdery mildew and septoria, which cause discoloration and leaf drop. It is unsightly but largely cosmetic. Now is a good time to cut out older, larger lilac stems that may have been affected by lilac borer.
Tick check every night.
