Autumn (and spring) is the time to transplant when most plants are semi-dormant. The key is to get as much of the root as possible. Globe Thistle grows well at the music school; I wanted to fill a gap in one of the borders so I separated this specimen from a cluster. 

 Autumn is the season of seeds, whether by self-seeding or seed collecting.

 Always a fleeting pleasure when sunlight catches Cyclamen hederifolium in a woodland setting. One of the few plants that flowers in a shady spot in late summer/early autumn. 

 

 A bit of weeding, except I noticed that the 'weeds' in a courtyard area at the music school were self-seeded Verbena bonariensis. So I teased them out from the cracks as carefully as I could to preserve the roots where possible. This yielded twenty or so young plants which I potted up - about a hundred pounds' worth at current prices- reusing old pots, compost made on site and rainwater from the water butt. Hyperlocal and sustainable!

 

 An annual task at the music school- cutting the Yew hedges (approx. 70m in various locations). Yew is tough and springy, not as amenable to topiary as a Privet hedge. Nonetheless can be shaped in the classic squarish section softened with rounded edges.

 It is sometimes said that it is illegal to cut a hedge in the UK between 1st. March and 31st. August. Not so but it is a criminal offence to disturb nesting birds during that period; a hedge is very likely contain a nest or two.

 There is no contradiction between the law and good horticultural practice. Early autumn is the ideal time to trim a hedge: growth is becoming dormant and fresh cuts will not be exposed to frost.

 

Sedums are stalwarts of herbaceous borders in late summer/early autumn.

 So, farewell the Mulberry Tree. When I arrived at the music school this morning I noticed it was half standing/half fallen leaning on one of its limbs. Presumably a consequence of the great storm on Thursday. I plucked some delicious berries from it only a few weeks ago.

 Mulberries grow to be ancient trees, this one was probably planted by William Ransom himself in the nineteenth century. He was a great planter of trees around his country house which is now the music school. NB that's the modernist extension in the background.

 In a wild garden this tree could keep on living for a few years yet albeit on the skew. In a car park adjacent to a slip road I imagine the decision will be to fell it. Fortunately there is another one nearby, also a relic of Ransom.