There is little subtlety to maturing fall plant relationships. Cooling autumn air temperatures cause petal and leaf colours to intensify; reds become redder, blues are tinged with purple, and greens are burnished with copper. These vivid colours mark the changing of seasons, a last audacious display before hard frost nips at leaves and blossoms.
The hybrid goldenrod ‘Fireworks' puts out arching, golden flower stems and forms a thick clump that stays put and doesn't seed around. Looking more refined than its wilder cousin seen in fields and along roadsides, ‘Fireworks' finds a soulmate in the dusty-pink stonecrop Autumn Joy, with its broccoli-like flower heads. This striking partnership is intensified by the garden workhorse ‘Goldsturm' black-eyed Susan. As a foil to the vertical lines of these plants, I like the airy and relaxed clumps of pale lilac dwarf calamint and mauve pink ‘Herrenhausen' ornamental oregano, which keep flowering until the beginning of November. Silver sage (a biennial) provides a cool contrast to this grouping, with its huge rosettes of velvety, pewter grey leaves. A single specimen of this diva makes an emphatic statement of form and shimmering colour. For a more modest combination, try ‘Big Ears' lambs' ears.
Small shrubs with ornamental features partner well with autumn perennials. ‘Brilliantissima' red chokeberry makes a clever combination in autumn's perennial borders, with its slim form, deep scarlet foliage and clusters of jet-black berries. The chokeberry offers a blazing backdrop for the tall stalks of deep purple ‘Arendsii' monkshood (but remember, it's poisonous if ingested by people or pets). For a similar but scaled-down display, pair the shorter violet-blue ‘Bressingham Spire' monkshood with a highbush blueberry, such as ‘Northblue', which has bright red autumn foliage. Some of the new barberry selections, such as rose pink ‘Rose Glow' or burgundy purple Ruby Carousel, would make fine partners, too.
I love to linger in my garden near two special shrub-and-perennial- plant combinations because they are so harmonious. The first is a Pink Diamond hydrangea that, by autumn, holds its prominent pink panicles behind the chartreuse foliage and scented blue flowers of ‘Worcester Gold' bluebeard. The second combination is more commanding in size, and stands by my front walk for all to see—a splendid ‘Red Jade' weeping crabapple, heavily spangled with clusters of crimson fruit (which don't fall off during the summer and are eaten by robins in autumn), paired with the white-petalled, golden-eyed ‘Honorine Jobert' Japanese anemone that grows up and through the crab's cascading, scarlet berries.
There is a particularly satisfying autumn scene in a shady corner of my garden. Here, the primordial beauty of orchid—like (but utterly reliable and trouble-free) toad lilies—my favourite is Tricyrtis hirta, which has white petals sprinkled with dark purple dots—adds spice to the graceful yellow wax-bells, with handsome maple leaf-like foliage held horizontally beneath extended dark green stems of pendulous yellow bells. The third partner is the late-blooming ‘White Pearl' snakeroot, which provides a vertical contrast to the spreading clumps of the toad lily and yellow wax-bells. Snakeroot is part of the bugbane family, all of which have tall, wiry wands of fuzzy, cream-coloured flowers. These plants are well worth collecting, as they provide a long season of bloom and are happy in moist woodland soil and light shade. Most gardeners are familiar with black snakeroot, the July-blooming family aristocrat with the largest leaves and flowers in the genus. The American bugbane, with a distinctly more woodland character, flowers from August into September. Late-blooming Cimicifuga simplex hybrids, such as ‘Brunette' (with deep bronze leaves) and ‘Hillside Black Beauty' (with nearly black foliage), flower in October. Both of these bugbanes have ornamental foliage that's an asset in any grouping, scented with a wild honey-like perfume.
Much of the consideration of my own garden is spurred on by the thought-provoking Christopher Lloyd (In My Garden, 1993), who advised: “To feel that you have at last achieved (even if by accident) some telling effect is a great fillip, but to go on feeling that you can just coast along with that same achievement year after year is a sure sign of mental sclerosis.” Well, doesn't that just put an edge on the day! So I must consider some new combinations. I'd like to pair my favourite ornamental grass—the subtly variegated ‘Morning Light' maiden grass, which makes a stout clump of delicate arching blades and coppery pink plumes—with two brilliant Michaelmas daisies: deep red ‘Royal Ruby' and rich violet-blue ‘Blue Lagoon'. I'll give them a backdrop of spreading cotoneaster, its wayward, scarlet-berry-laden branches cloaked in autumn with small leaves in blended colours of yellow, red and purple. I expect the late Mr. Lloyd would have had something to say about that!
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