During one of the daily excursions,  I found a huge orphan shell stranded on the part of the beach I travel most often. I was thrilled because it is perfect, the inside nacre is untrammel by what’s, no doubt been, a rocky ride. A lady passing said “Oh I have nine of those.” I was stunned. I had made up all sort of symbolic preciousness about this one shell which found me.

An old guy with a metal detector said “If you want hundreds more of those you just have to walk the other way,”

So I did and came across a cache of shells all of them just lying there like a bunch of flotsam. Suddenly my own shell lost some of its enormous luster.

I went back the next day to look at the shell pile but not one was to be seen. “Depends on the tides.” Said a passerby who offered me a small shell in compensation. My shells became valuable again.

So this reminds me of how we love to have rare plants, how when we see the same plant piled up in big box stores it becomes less interesting. But of course this is as foolish as me with the shells. Whatever nature presents us is a miracle of design, of craftsmanship and should be treasured for its individuality.

These shells I like are sea snails, great big slugs one person said. Make sure you get it out or it will stink. But why would I want the home of a living animal? I put a lot of them back because they were still inhabited. Life’s tough enough for a sea snail without some dope dumping them into the sink.

I’ve learned a lot about the beach in these weeks in Carpinteria. And the beach here as every shore is at risk. We were startled by the size of the waves that hit here when the tsunamis fanned out from the horrors of the Chilean earthquake. We got only a small blip by comparison. But the waves were big enough to breach the very large (two storey high)  berm outside our building. Now that’s wave action.

The past week has  been the horticultural version of the fast lane. There’ve been so many social events my feet hurt right up to the knees from standing around in ridiculous shoes.  If you want to have a look, go to Mark Disero’s terrific web site Gardens Toronto. He hits all the events, schmoozes like crazy and gets really good shots of us all.  I’ve seldom seen anyone work so hard.

I gave a wee talk at  the Toronto-Parkdale Horticultural society’s 175th anniversary party the other night. David Miller is looking soooo much happier (thinner, handsomer, cheerier all around) since he decided to step aside. And Ontario’s David Onley is an amazing guy. It was a great evening and hats off to The Hort.

I’ll have a column in the Globe and Mail’s Style Section this Saturday. Alas it will be the last for this season.  It features Martin Wade’s garden. I’ve done a series on Designer and Landscape Architect’s gardens. It’s been really interesting for me because the owners featured know and love plants (not plant material).  A lot of the work I do as a garden designer is fixing up other people’s dreadful mistakes.  Bad planting really makes people unhappy and all the most beautiful hardscaping in the world won’t fix it.  None of these talented people fall into that category.

I’ll be on a couple of things this weekend. CBC’s Definitely Not the Opera has a piece around 2:15 on Saturday afternoon about community gardens. Nick Purdon zapped over here at the crack of dawn today and it will be on around 2:15.  CBC

And on Sunday a.m. I’ll be on Fresh Air, at 7:30 which is not my favourite time of day for speaking but Mary Ito is always such a pleasure to work with, I’ll just down the coffee and go.

On a show I did in Vancouver today I mentioned two websites people should have a look at:   The Native Plant Society of British Columbia a treasure trove of information about native plants of the west coast, and nurseries that sell native plants. The other is a great nursery which will ship across the country:  Thimble Farms Nursery on Salt Spring Island.  Their catalogue sets me to salivating.  As does Lost Horizons.    Both these catalogues have no pictures, you have to do a little work if you want to find pictures but absolutely worthwhile when you see what they have to offer.

If I survive all of this I’ll be back to blogging very soon. I’m also in the throes of working on my next e-letter so if you haven’t signed up already please do so. Just push the button, I’ll get the message.  It’s a stunningly gorgeous time of the year and we are installing gardens, moving plants and still feeling like there’s a lot left to this season.

Actually I do. It’s that they all have a special place  and time to actually strut their stuff.  For instance right now, this little perennial combination is cheering me up everso. It a combination that’s sparkling in its freshness:

A sedum with a gorgeous bloom, a lovely butterfly bush, and the gold of Japanese hedge grass called ‘All Gold’.

Right now the phlox are fading, looking a bit sad but I keep deadheading them anyway.  In fact it’s one of the great autumn pleasures—messing about with the amazing scents that plants are releasing right now—nicking stuff here and there.

It’s about this time I get truly fed up with hostas and their lanky flower stems. I can never keep up with them and loathe the look of those sticks-like stalks rising about the foliage which is usually so glorious and right now is chomped by slugs.

So love and loathe:  how typically a gardener.

It’s my fault. When the weeping willow came out next door, I was so dazzled by light I thought “Plant trees now.”  In doing so, I did something I warn other people about:  I overplanted. I’m here humbly with a mea culpa.  A fern-leaf alder grew to such proportions in this wonderful loamy soil that it was squeezing the light away from everything else.  The view from my chair in the dining room told me that something was wrong.

The Kentucky Coffee Tree (Gymnocladus dioeca) with its magnificen ferny high canopy, and a star of this garden, remained unseen from the house.  This is the greatest (certainly the largest) of  the trees of the Carolinian forest. We’re on the edge of the forest’s range, so I feel a responsibility to plant as many species as possible.  This is my favourite.  And I’ve moved it to various parts of the garden so it never has been able to do its stuff until now.  And what a beauty it is.  Hard to photograph because it’s incredibly tall.

But what I was feeling was being overwhelmed by the tree—not something you want in a garden. They are they were be part of our relationship with nature not threatening. I used to feel that about the weeping willow—convinced it would be the plant that killed us or destroyed our house.  And recently the trees in our neighbourhood are so stressed and such a mess that part of a silver maple fell on my husband’s car and crushed the roof. If he’d been standing by it—a gonner.

We have to treat these wonderful creatures very delicately which is why I like Derek:  he takes out trees very reluctantly and he never lets his guys spike. If you  see a tree person strapping on the spikes, get them out of your garden. Sometimes these fraudsters will put up a ladder and then spike from there.

When hiring an arbourist make sure they are certified (ask for credentials), and  make sure you know who’s going to be ankling up that tree.  You might get a charming salesman and the tree guys could be inept beyond belief.  This happened to a friend:  guy spiked her honey locust and she’s been paying ever since:  chunks dropping out, excess “bleeding,” insects–you name it.  I has cost her a lot of money which, if well spent in the first place, shouldn’t have been necessary.

This is how a good arbourist scales a tree: like a monkey a brave one.

The garden once it was cleaned out and really see-through

Though my trees are generally very healthy there’s another thing that must be taken into consideration:  age. I have a gorgeous Cercis canadensis ‘Purple Pansy’ which came to its end last week as well. I got all teary in the house. But these cultivars only seem to last for fifteen years and this one was sadly dying by inches. But by sheer luck I found a new one at Fiesta Gardens (200 Christie Street) with almost the same shape though only a few feet tall. It will grow up to be just as glorious. A tree to see me out.

My  talk at  the Canadian Horticultural Therapy Association’s annual conference, was a boffo success. What a great audience of really smart people.

And my next talk is at  Brock University. I’ll be ranting on the Saturday October 3rd as keynote speaker in what will be a fantastic  conference.  Please come and I’ll have books for sale. Or you can get them from me directly (see above).

This is Plectranthus ?Mona Lavender?.

I can?t believe any plant can look this good in November. Long past the time when all other annuals are looking soggy, this one carries on triumphant. You see it for sale in nurseries but somehow I don?t see it enough in containers, gardens and as a filler in borders.

It is the most useful annual there is. So put it on your list as a must-get next spring. I?m going to try and overwinter this one. I finally got my friend Stephen to bring in the containers. They were way too heavy for me and now the dining room has the few I want to try and hang on to.

The Duranta ?Gold Edge? is in its fifth year of being lugged in and out of the house. It?s going to be fine. Looks a bit sad here but I expect it will improve as it adjust to the warmth of the house.

Have a look at My Garden: Tom Vogel has created more magic with his panoramas. We now have a complete season up and spilling one into another. You put on the flower button and that activates being able to look at every detail of the garden from the same point of view through the seasons. He is a wizard.

• Don’t use too many elements. Keep it down to a maximum of five including what you’re using for a mulch if it’s stones.
• Make one stunning evergreen the focal point of the container; this will be your upright. Then add contrasting perennials in harmonizing foliage colours, grasses and perhaps one or two small boxwoods which you can shape in almost any way you like.
• Use your own potting soil mix (don’t use the same stuff you use for annuals): half horticultural sand, half topsoil and compost. Add a layer of mulch about 2 inches thick at the top.
• Water deeply until it comes out the bottom. Keep on doing this until it freezes.

I’m getting the autumn e-letter ready, so if you’d like to sign up I’ll add you to the list.??