Last week I attended a local Master Gardener's meeting to learn about what other gardeners do to get ready for winter. The guest speaker, Rita Jo Shoultz, runs Fritz Creek Gardens near Homer, Alaska. She had interviewed a few garden designers on this topic, and one thing they all agreed on is that they do not cut back foliage in the fall.

Some of the foliage is left for insulation. Seedheads are left for birds to eat. Still other plants provide some visual "winter interest" when left intact under the snow.

Another tip was to "Plant, plant, plant!" Last week it wasn't too late to take advantage of sale perennials and a variety of bulbs.

A few days later, it felt like a different story. Fall is officially here, along with freezing temperatures in Anchorage. Termination dust has given the mountains their first powdering of the season. (Although I'm unsure of the origin of the phrase, "termination dust" refers to the first dusting of snow, visually signaling that winter is close at hand.)

Other indicators of Alaska's quick journey from summer to winter include:


"Topping off" of fireweed. According to some folk tales, once the fireweed blossoms have topped off, there's just six weeks until winter. This usually happens sometime in July.

End of the salmon runs. By late September, most salmon have made their long journeys from ocean back to birthplace. They will spawn and die, their bodies providing nourishment for small fry next season.

Forest smells. To me, fall in Alaska smells a little like dog poop. I've not determined whether it's just normal leaf decay or a specific plant, like the highbush cranberry, which has been described as having a "musty" smell. I don't think this particular sign of fall is something one can learn to appreciate.

More dramatic loss of daylight. From now until April we'll be getting up in the dark. I think it's hardest to deal with before the snow falls. After that, the reflection of sunlight, moonlight or streetlights on the snow brighten up the world here considerably.

Many Alaskans are eagerly anticipating snow, for both recreational and economic reasons (snow plowing is a big cottage industry). I for one am not quite ready for the cold. While I may still get out and plant bulbs in anticipation of a far-off spring, I do feel a bit sad about those plants that didn't even get a chance to bloom due to our chilly summer. I have cosmos grown from seed just budding, and a liatris that is tall and ready to bloom. I doubt that either will get a chance to show their stuff.

I guess I'll leave them for winter interest.