Sedum are staples of the garden--especially the fall garden.  There are many great species and varieties, from the tall favorite, 'Autumn Joy', to smaller, ground covering types.  All are easy to grow in full sun and well-drained soil, and all attract butterflies.

My new favorite sedums are the ones with leaves so dark that they look black from even a short distance.  Two years ago I installed 'Black Jack', which is tall, like 'Autumn Joy', but sports fleshy, dark purple stems and nearly black leaves.  The blooms are rose-pink and lovely, but it is the black foliage that really generates excitement in the garden.  'Black Jack' stands out in the sea of green and catches your eye.

'Purple Emperor' is another black-leafed sedum that is more compact than 'Black Jack' (fifteen inches tall versus twenty four inches).  Well suited to container culture, 'Purple Emporor' also has vibrant pink flowerheads that are great for drying. 

So try planting a clump of black-leafed sedum, either on their own, or mixed among the green-leafed varieties.  Either way, they add spice to the garden mix.

Nothing is flashier in late August and early September than Hydrangea paniculata grandiflora, known for obvious reasons as the "pee gee" hydrangea.  These shrubs, which can be grown as small trees or standards, bloom later than most garden hydrangeas, but they are worth the wait. 

Like their relatives, the earlier blooming oak leaf hydrangeas, pee gees have conical flower panicles.  However, pee gee panicles are fatter and a bit more rounded and can be enormous.  A mature plant can sport scores of these beautiful flowerheads, which are very suitable for flower arrangements and even more suitable for drying.   

Most hydrangeas like dappled shade, rather than deep shade, and should be well mulched.  If you are planting one in a mixed border or an array of shrubs, be sure to leave enough room for growth.  Your pee gee may start out slowly, but after a few years it will put on an impressive show.

If you are going to dry the flower panicles, be sure to pick them after they turn pink and the petals start to dry.  Hang bundles of them upside down in a cool, airy place, and in a few weeks they should be ready for arrangements, wreaths or other decorations.    

When I go through my perennial beds in the early fall, I am usually confronted by a dilemma.  From coneflowers to gaillardia, many plants are finished with their blooming chores and are in the process of setting seed.  If I want those plants to reseed or feed the local bird population, I can let the deadheads stay on the stalks.  If I want a tidy garden that creates a good backdrop for the fall blooming plants, I can clip the deadheads off.

Usually I compromise.  If a deadhead is in the way of other plants that are in bloom or about to bloom, I cut it off.  If not, I let it stay.  The coneflowers, in particular, are still interesting, their darkening "cones" no longer ornamented by colorful petals.  The local goldfinches and other birds are attracted to the seeds, and I figure that they bring as much color to the garden as the flowers do.

Annuals are a different affair.  Deadheading keeps them producing--sometimes right up until frost.  However, if I want an annual to self seed, I deadhead about two thirds of the stalks and leave the rest.  

It's always nice to have a few surprises in your fall garden.  One of the nicest surprises is fall-blooming crocus.  These little flowering plants, which can be ordered and planted now, are similar in appearance to spring-flowering varieties and can be used in the same ways.   The big difference between these crocuses and the spring-blooming types is that you can usually plant them in early fall and they will bloom later in the same season.   

One of my favorites is the blue-purple saffron crocus or Crocus sativus.  Cultivated for centuries, its golden stigmas are the source of the culinary spice, saffron.  I also like to mix up my fall crocus display with Crocus speciosus, little species crocuses that come in a variety of colors including blue, blue-purple, yellow and white. 

Like their spring-blooming kindred, the fall crocuses will increase in number if they are happy.  Give them a sunny spot with good drainage and the crocuses will take care of the rest.  

A couple of years ago, I toured a great garden--Wave Hill in the Bronx.  There were lots of wonderful plants and inspired groupings, but one of the loveliest things I saw was a large smokebush (Cotinus coggygria) in bloom.  Framed by a backdrop of the distant New Jersey Palisades, the smokebush looked like something out of an Impressionist painting, its branches cloaked in beige-pink "smoke". 

Once I had seen the smokebush, I began noticing others in sunny locations all over the place.  They are multi-stemmed shrubs that generally grow between ten and fifteen feet tall.  The "smoke" in question does not refer to the flowers, which are insignificant, but to hairs that sprout from the flower stalks.   The "smoke" appears in mid to late summer and can change in color as the flower panicles age. 

The "smoke" is only part of the show; with many cotinus varieties, the fire comes in the fall, as the oval-shaped leaves turn red, orange or yellow.  Some species boast purple leaves, which either remain purple throughout the spring and summer, or start out purple in the spring and age to green. 

There are many available smoke bush cultivars.  One of the best recent ones is 'Young Lady', which is a relatively compact ten feet tall at maturity.   'Young Lady' covers herself in pink froth in summer.  Her green leaves turn brilliant red-orange in the fall.

With more and more gardeners turning to shrubs for easy care and multiple seasons of interest, Cotinus coggygria has grown in popularity.  In years to come, whole neighborhoods may be covered with "smoke". 

It's almost fall, and fall is prime time for Japanese maples (Acer palmatum).  Somehow the combination of brilliant fall color, swathes of deeply dissected leaves and the lovely, soft shapes of the trees add up to a wondrous whole that can be magical in the garden. 

One of the best things about Japanese maples is that you don't have to have a large yard--or even any yard at all--to enjoy them.  Some specimens, like A. palmatum atropurpurem, can grow to a mature height of twenty feet.    Other varieties are naturally smaller in stature and some are small enough to grow in containers.  With a little research you can find Japanese maples whose leaf colors change from spring to summer to fall.  Other varieties turn yellow in autumn as opposed to red or orange.  You can also seek out variations in leaf shape and growth habit. In late fall and winter, when the leaves are gone, the unadorned trunks and branches make lovely pictures.

Japanese maples are especially amenable to pruning and shaping, so you can tailor your tree to its situation in your garden, allowing it to dominate a section of the landscape or serve as a graceful supporting player.  

These versatile trees also tend to be somewhat addictive.  I know at least two gardening friends who bought or inherited Acer palmatum, got enthused about their many virtues and began collecting specimens.  Other than the gardener's enthusiasm, all they need is sun and ample water while they are getting established. 

All over the country, people are cultivating butterfly gardens.  This is a great thing because butterflies are threatened from all sides.  Habitat destruction, pollution and pesticides have all played a role in the reduction in the butterfly population. 

But once you have your butterfly garden, what do you do (aside from weeding)?  It is great fun and a terrific education to keep track of the butterflies that come to sip nectar from your flowers, lay eggs on host plants or simply rest from the task of flying around in search of food.  This is also a good activity to pursue with children or grandchildren.

But what if you don't know a swallowtail from a skipper?

There are many information sources, but probably the best is a good butterfly guidebook.  I like The National Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Butterflies (Knopf Publishing Group, 1981).  It is comprehensive, easy to use and inexpensive.  There are also butterfly-related websites, including that of the North American Butterfly Association (www.naba.org).  The NABA site also has a great "links" tab that can connect you to butterfly groups in your state or area.  The Xerxes Society (www.xerxes.org) advocates for all kinds of pollinating insects, including butterflies.  Its website is full of interesting information.

So take the time to learn a little something about butterflies.  It will make your butterfly garden even more satisfying. 

Lately as I've been weeding the garden, I've noticed many self-sown seedlings, especially foxgloves, larkspur, perilla and even rose of Sharon.  When I was a novice gardener, I never grubbed out unwanted seedlings, because I was afraid that if I did so I would somehow jinx all my gardening efforts.  After all, what are self-sown plants if not a gift horse, and we've all been taught never to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Now that I have many years of gardening under my belt, I am more practical and less superstitious.  The same plants have been self-seeding in my yard for years, and if I grub out the unwanted ones no harm at all will be done.  Plants like California poppy, which produce thousands of seeds, do so to ensure the survival of the species.  Even if I pull out scores of tiny California poppy offspring, I won't come anywhere near getting all of them. 

Of course the choice plants that I want to self-sow rarely do so.  That's part of the natural order as well.  Some of those plants are sterile hybrids; others just need extremely specific conditions for proper germination.   The money that I save by not buying the self-seeders can be spent on plants that refuse to reproduce in my private Eden.

Wise gardeners make peace with nature--and grub out chance-sown seedlings.

Morning glories (Convolvulus) are indispensable.  There is nothing better for covering trellises, arches or tuteurs and, as long as you have some kind of tall, relatively sturdy support, you can even grow them in pots.  They are also perfect for people who don't want to commit to a perennial vine like clematis. 

Most years I start my morning glories from fresh seed that I buy each spring.  This past spring I used seed that I had collected from the previous year's plants.  The results were interesting.  Though last summer's beds held a mix of varieties, the only one that has sprouted reliably from the collected seed is the heirloom variety 'Grandpa Ott's'.  I am not sure what happened to all the others, but 'Grandpa Ott's' has come through valiantly, producing more dark purple blooms every day. 

It's possible that some of the others are simply late bloomers.  The spring was dry and all the plants got off to a slow start.  I check every day in the hopes of finding a few blue or pink blossoms.  I do enjoy mixed colors, so next spring, I'll probably buy fresh seed.  For now, though, I'll be content watching 'Grandpa' work his way up to the second storey of my house.

For the past two weeks I have been harvesting blueberries from the bush in my backyard.  I have waited a long time for this.  The blueberry bush is four years old and this is the first year that it has produced a bountiful harvest.  I generally eat a few as I pick them and save the rest.  I like them with vanilla yogurt, but they also occasionally find their way into a very decent blueberry crisp.

Related to cranberries, blueberries are known botanically as Vaccinium corymbosum.  They make first class garden ornamentals, with their pink spring flowers, pretty (and delicious) blue fruits and brightly colored autumn leaves.  An estate garden near my house has a double allee of blueberry bushes flanking a long expanse of lawn and admiring visitors are always surprised to find out what the bushes are.

 Acid soil and sunshine are best for optimum blueberry production and bird netting helps to ensure that you get to eat the fruits of your labors.  The bushes themselves are unfussy and easy to care for.  There are various blueberry varieties on the market.  The bush in my yard is similar to the 'Northland' variety, which is fairly compact.  When it is mature it will be about three feet tall and equally wide and could easily work in a container.  I am looking forward to the day when my blueberry yields enough fruit for a pie. 

Most of us will never be self-sufficient when it comes to food crops.  However, nothing beats the feeling of harvesting something that you have grown yourself.

If maintaining a beautiful garden is about creating a series of beautiful pictures, then the most important part of the act of creation is editing.  To put it in a less artistic way--cleaning up is one of the best things you can do for your garden.  For example, my blackberries have finished bearing fruit for the year.  For the health of the blackberry patch and the beauty of the area around it, I need to cut back the spent canes.  The daylilies have mostly come and gone.  I generally let the foliage ripen a bit, then cut it back so that the asters and other late summer and early fall flowers can shine.

Of course there are a few exceptions to this rule.  Once blooming roses often form lovely hips, and should be left alone.  Some clematis sport interesting seed heads that deserve a moment (or two) in the sun.  On the whole, though, it's a good idea to carry a pair of clippers with you on your daily trips around the yard.  That makes it easy to clip spent stalks, leaves or branches. 

With America going "green", gardeners are more and more interested in using native plants in their beds, borders and pots.  But what does "native" mean?  Native to North America?  Native to your region?  Native to the ten square mile area surrounding your house or apartment?  To make things just a bit more confusing, lots of plants that many people consider native are naturalized foreigners.  Queen Ann's Lace, which grows wild on the edges of fields and roadsides as well as abandoned city lots, was brought from England and escaped from colonial gardens long ago.

Then there is another issue.  Some natives are not very showy, but hybridizers have used them as parents to create new plant varieties with larger flowers or more attractive foliage.  The hybrids may be great garden plants and make a much bigger visual statement, but they are not natives.

So what is the ordinary person supposed to do?  Library or internet research can help.  Simply enter "native plants" and the name of your state or region and you should come up with a number of hits.  There are also many books on the subject.   One of the best is Native Alternatives to Invasive Plants by C Colston Burrell, Janet Marinelli (Editor), Bonnie Harper-Lore (Editor)  (Brooklyn Botanic Garden, 2006).  Burrell, a veteran garden writer, starts with a lengthy list of non-native invasive plants and pairs them with native substitutes.   This is especially helpful for gardeners who are making gradual changes in their planting schemes. 

You can also consult wildflower guides for your region, most of which will tell you which wildflowers are natives, like the New England aster, as opposed to non-natives like the common ox-eye daisy.  Once you know either the Latin or common name of the plant that interests you, do a little more online research.  One of the best sources of information on where to buy particular seeds or plants is the University of Minnesota's Plant Information Online.  Access the site, enter the name of the plant and hit "enter".  The site will generate a list of both wholesale and retail sources with contact information. 

Native plants provide great habitat to all kinds of birds, butterflies and pollinating insects.  They help blunt the effects of overdevelopment and enrich the environment.  Some of them are just plain beautiful and well worth investigating. 

Bearded iris are wonderful in the spring, with their tall stalks and large, showy flowers.  If you want to continue the show, you have to take care of your iris, and that care includes lifting and dividing them about every three years.  If your iris clumps are congested and seem to be producing fewer blossoms than in years past, chances are it's time to take this step.  Fortunately, it isn't hard because iris rhizomes thrive close to the soil surface and have shallow roots.

To divide an iris clump, trim the long iris leaves so that they are only about two inches tall; then take a spade and dig all the way around the clump, gradually lifting it away from the surrounding soil.  Knock the as much soil as possible off the mass of rhizomes so that you can see what you are doing.  Divide the clump into pieces, making sure that each division has the remnants of a leaf emerging from the rhizome.  Discard any rhizome pieces that are soft, spongy or shriveled.  Amend the soil with compost or other organic fertilizer.  Replant the healthy divisions close to the soil surface, spacing them six or more inches from each other so that they will have room to grow. 

You will probably have some spare divisions.  Plant them in other locations on your property or give them to friends.  Trading rhizomes with other iris lovers is a great way to acquire different colored iris and expand your collection.  

At this time of year I am always trying to get the purslane out of my sidewalk cracks.  Now its relative, portulaca or moss rose, is growing out of some of those same cracks and I couldn't be happier.  Purslane is a creeping, succulent plant, with plump green leaves.  It's edible, if you are into such things, and it's vigorous to put it mildly.  I don't eat it, so I pull it out.

Portulaca is also succulent, though its little leaves are not as fat as those of purslane.  The flowers are somewhat poppy-like and come in an array of colors.  Individual flowers only last one day, but the plant produces blooms repeatedly over a long season.  You can encourage the reblooming tendency by deadheading the spent flowers.

The beauty of portulaca, for those of us who experience very dry summers or who grow plants in infrequently watered flower beds and containers, is that it can get along without much water.  Like most succulents, it stores moisture in its leaves. 

Portulaca can be started from seed or from garden center cell packs.  Either way it is easy to grow and a flagrant self-seeder.  (That's how it got into my sidewalk cracks.)  Since it is a low-grower, it is best for the edges of beds and the front of borders.  You can fill pots with single colors or plant a seed mix and enjoy the rainbow.  Either way, it's one less plant to worry about--which will give you more time for the purslane in the sidewalk cracks.  

A couple of days ago I was out for a walk and I saw a tremendously tall plant--probably about six feet--looming over a neighbor's fence.  Even from a distance I could recognize Joe Pye weed (Eupatorium purpureum), an American native that bursts into bloom at this time of the year.

The story goes that Joe Pye weed gets its unusual name from a real person, possibly a Native American herbalist, who used decoctions made from the plant's roots to cure typhus.  Certainly Joe Pye weed is easy to come by.  If you have ever traveled through rural areas in the eastern two thirds of the United States in midsummer, you have probably passed fields full of this tenacious plant.    

The flowers are dusty purple and clustered into domed flowerheads at the tops of the stalks.  The tall, hollow stalks support leaves that are a bit rough looking--oval shaped and slightly toothed.  It's safe to say that nobody buys Joe Pye weed for the leaves.  Butterflies flock to the flowers, which makes the species a natural for the butterfly garden.

If you buy common Joe Pye weed, you can keep it a little more compact by pinching back the stems in May and June.  I do this and my tall plants top out at four feet rather than six.  There are also dwarf varieties, including 'Gateway' and 'Little Joe', that stop at four feet.  With pinching you might be able to make them even shorter.  Both could be grown in large containers.

Joe Pye weed likes sun and a reasonable amount of moisture.  Some sources recommend alkaline soil, but mine grows just fine in acid soil. 

Like so many things with strange names, Joe Pye weed is worth a second look and worthy of a spot in the garden.