A Candytuft Has Its Say

There's that autumn chill in the air as I walk out to Max's Garden this morning. I've covered the Sunset Foxglove overnight to protect its burgeoning blooms from the frost. It's a new planting just this fall and I really want to see what color it's got to offer before it heads off into dormancy for the winter. I used my large bee skep to cover it last night and I need to take it off for the day.

But before I get too far, I hear something off to the right somewhere, in a tiny little voice that's trying its darnedest to be heard. "Hey! Where are you going? You're babying that thing way out there, but look down here! Look at me! I didn't need anyone to shelter me from the cold and I'm blooming!"

I look down and oh. my. goodness. The perennial candytuft (Iberis sempervirens) is sporting new white flowers. They aren't as full as they were earlier in the season, but they're there and also another cluster of flower buds waits in the wings nearby.

I'm impressed.




I love my candytuft a lot. In the spring and early summer, it's a carpet of lovely white blooms and I always crouch down and admire the delicate shading of color that you might not notice if you didn't look closer. You might think to yourself, "Oh, what a pretty white flower it has." Yes, it certainly does, but there's much more than that. You just have to take the time to look for it.

I want to ask my candytuft if the nearby doublefile viburnum that's acting like it's spring had anything to do with this late season effort at showing off. It's got new flower buds on it and everything and no doubt the candytuft wanted to play that game too. But it doesn't matter so I keep it to myself and admire them both.

Well done, my little candytuft. I'm proud of you. Now go get ready for bed. You need your beauty sleep. Spring will be here before you know it.