This year’s Fling, an annual gathering for garden enthusiasts from the blogging, Instagramming, and YouTube community, marks its first rendezvous during the autumn season, spanning from September 21 to 24. It aligns closely with the autumnal equinox on September 23.

The event is centered in the Philadelphia region, spotlighting renowned places like Longwood Gardens (our principal host), Chanticleer, and a myriad of private gardens. Instead of delving into the details of this event, I’d mention that one or several Ranters have participated since 2008, making it a delightful experience.

I’m eager to witness the gardening feats private owners exhibit at September’s close. (It’s a given that both Longwood and Chanticleer will be nothing short of breathtaking.) While I have an affection for September, my feelings towards my own garden during this month are somewhat ambivalent, barring the hydrangeas. The vibrant hues of the Japanese maples, amsonia, and other fall-centric perennials are yet to emerge. Most vibrantly blooming perennials have had their time, and surprisingly, my David Austin roses don’t seem to flourish in September. The lilies have completed their cycle.

I’ve been tirelessly tending to my buddleia and double rudbeckia, aiming to extend their vibrant displays. Some annuals, like petunias and lobelia, either require rigorous pruning or complete removal as we transition seasons.

Yet, several regular annuals and large tropical plants truly shine during September. I’ve been extensively experimenting with coleus, discovering a fascinating array of varieties from a mix of local garden centers and online sources. Grouping contrasting types can create quite a visual treat.

Lobularia, or as some call it, alyssum, remains a standout until October with its enchanting honeyed fragrance. White euphorbia, too, remains unfazed by the changing seasons. The same resilience is seen in begonias and the annual variety of salvia.

Now is also when alocasia and colocasia truly thrive and proliferate. And, needless to say, the ever-reliable zinnias never disappoint.

I don’t explicitly curate a garden for the autumn months. Instead, I gravitate towards plants that have a lasting seasonal presence, avoiding the likes of mums or ‘Autumn Joy.’ Much like the concept of ‘winter interest,’ I trust nature to handle its autumn counterpart.

I’m eager to observe and learn from the gardening practices of those in the Longwood vicinity.