Oh yes, there is a plant that goes by that popular name, but I'm using the term for a group of plants with a changeable character. Some start out in spring with colors that belie their eventual summer hues. A good case in point are the emerging shoots of Fallopia japonica 'Variegata,' whose deep rosy pink stems rise from the ground in the spring, and eventually lead to beautiful green and white speckled foliage.
We are in the transition from summer to winter, otherwise known as autumn. The weather is fickle from one week to the next, sometimes one day to the next. My favorite fall days are during what I call "sweatshirt weather," when a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt are all that are needed to keep the chill off.
Sweatshirts aren't needed just yet - not during the day - but once in awhile they feel good in the evenings. Those evenings are perfect for weiner roasts, where the hot dogs aren't the stars of the show; the stars in the sky are.
As I was moving some plants around the garden today and doing some watering of those areas under the eaves that didn't get the benefit of the .6 of an inch of rain overnight, I noticed some changes in the plants.
They too are in transition, with colors of green giving way to yellows, oranges and reds, before they will turn brown and go dormant in their effort to survive another winter. They have one foot in the door of autumn, and the other still in summer. I call these "chameleon plants."
In fall, some plants change from green to the colors we usually associate with the leaves on trees.
These caught my attention today:
(Ah, yes - yet another name change by the taxonomists)
This is one of the shrubs that is original to the house when we moved here. It will eventually lose its leaves, but keep its beautiful red berries that look lovely in winter against the snow. The birds like them, too.
This is a perfect name for this astilbe, as the leaves are multicolored through the entire growing season. In fall, they're more pronounced.
I can smell it already.