This is a photo of my Forsythia ‘Meadowlark’ blooming–sparsely, I grant you, but nevertheless blooming–in September. If I hadn’t been checking for signs of the colchicums recently planted in this area, I’m sure I never would have noticed the yellow blossoms, so it is entirely possible this shrub has done this other years without my being aware of it. On the other hand, dinner table consensus was that it had bloomed pretty poorly this spring, so maybe these were flower buds that didn’t “get it” this past spring. Worse, these could be next year’s flowers jumping the gun, in which case there may well be another sparse flush next spring. I’ll keep you posted. And if anyone else knows of a fall-blooming forsythia, I’d love to hear about it. [Photo taken 9/14/04]
In the end, this may be the most important thing about frost: Frost slows us down. In spring, it tempers our eagerness. In fall, it brings closure and rest. In our gotta-go world–where every nanosecond seems to count–slowness can be a great gift. So rather than see Jack Frost as an adversary, you could choose to greet him as a friend.
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