The glories of November

 HOW DOES YOUR GARDEN GROW

By Kit Flynn
Columnist

November has proven to be a fabulous month in the garden. Here in the South, November trees provide great color, which is highlighted by the best season for Camellia sasanqua that I have ever seen. I love sasanquas as they are a harbinger that cooler weather is arriving. I have no idea why their blooms are so profuse this year – but all of them in the neighborhood have achieved a spectacular flowering this year.

As I write this article, we expect the temperature to change as winds from Siberia will extend down to the Triangle. This temperature drop into the expected mid-twenties will burn the remaining flowers, but I do not mind as the sasanquas have had a long two-month run. The few Camellia japonica that have dared to bloom early will stop their blooming cycle as they await more temperate degrees.

The Japanese maples are always rather tardy in turning color but when they do, they are simply awesome. I have one that turns bright orange while the larger one behind it is a brilliant red. Another one, aka the most expensive plant I have ever bought, turns a dark vibrant red. Then sometime in December, they will lose all their leaves within one or two days.

Roses are still blooming, mostly one at a time. In a way I appreciate their efforts more in November than I do in May when the garden is amassed with blooms. My eye concentrates on the solitary roses while I savor their perfection. Roses never go into a winter stupor so it’s important not to prune them right now as you don’t want to encourage new growth. Remember that winter will soon make its inevitable appearance even though we sometimes lull ourselves into thinking that winter will skip us this year.

Every two years, I have to find room in the garden for two fatsias that have resided in large pots by my front door for two years. After two pot-bound years, they are anxious to make their escape in the coming spring. Appearing in both solid green and variegated patterns, they are a lovely addition to the southern garden.

Fatsia japonica in full flower. Photo by Kit Flynn.

Now most gardeners grow fatsias for their leaves, not for their flowers that verge on the bizarre. They are round white balls that hold allure once you have gotten used to them. Fatshedera, a plant that is genetically a combination of fatsia and English ivy, produces the same flowers but blooms in late October, a month earlier than the fatsias. Fatsias bloom in late November, hinting that winter is approaching.

Most of the hostas have disappeared, eager for their winter rest, although some of the late-blooming varieties are still hanging around. The perennial borders are emptying out – soon I shall undoubtedly forget all that is planted in them, only to be surprised when they begin to pop out beginning in March when the sun has risen to a greater height.

Today, on the last day of November, the temperature fell overnight to 27° and the bananas will soon droop and swoon as the temperature heats back up to a toasty 46°. It’s time to cut them back – what once was three bananas is now a grove. The remaining camellia blooms will turn brown when the expected temperature for the first week in December is scheduled to fall to 23°. Camellia flowers can brave 27° but anything lower turns them brown, encouraging the mother plant to stop flower production.

Here’s the thing about the southern fall. It should never be compared to the New England fall with its sugar maple magnificence. The New England fall peaks around Columbus Day, whereas the southern fall looks a bit drab until the second or third week in November when colors burst through. Many Japanese maples we grow here in the Triangle that provide delicious fall color cannot survive a Zone 5 winter. The southern fall is not ostentatious, rather, it is on the subtle side. This doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be appreciated. My advice is to stop comparing our fall to one produced by New England. Instead, enjoy what ours offers.

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