Ivy is not generally thought of as a flower but it is a flowering plant and just about the last one of the season that provides a plentiful source of food for pollinators.
 I remember walking down a country lane that was dense with ivy and at first I thought someone must have been using a generator or some piece of machinery nearby that was giving off a very audible hum. Then I realised it was the sound of thousands upon thousands of bees all over the ivy.
 In Dorset at this time of year I have noticed more than once that it attracts a good many Red Admiral butterflies as well.
 The ivy in the photos above is at the back of a pub garden in that county. I have also noticed there is a definite synchronicity between seeking out wildflowers and finding country pubs.   

 Iris foetidissima is a tough as old boots kind of plant. Seen here I came across it growing in a fairly open marshy spot only a few hundreds yards from Chesil Beach in Dorset. Equally it grows in the driest shadiest spots which is where I planted it in the garden some years ago.
  In the middle of the summer months it has intricate veined flowers. They are not very conspicuous but beautiful none the less when looked at closely (see my entry on 8th. June). It has a second season of interest in the autumn when it produces vivid orange berries that hang in clusters- they are more showy than the flowers in fact.    

 Cyclamen hederifolium is an autumnal coda in the woodland garden. It appears long after most shade tolerant plants have flowered even where the shade is deep and dry.
 The stalks unfurl from round-ish coums that sit half in the soil, half out. These coums can grow to the size of small plates eventually with a thick, woody hardness. The pink and white flowers seem almost luminous if any rays of light shine down on them through the trees.
 It's sometimes called the Ivy-leaved Cyclamen because the variegated leaves do indeed resemble a dainty ivy leaf.
 Perhaps dainty is not quite the right word because this is a tough plant that flourishes in conditions that few plants can cope with. And it multiples quite happily (the seeds are spread by ants I believe). I imagine a former resident here must have planted a few and they now form quite a substantial colony towards the back of the garden.    

 By late August/early September there are fewer plants in bloom than the peak flowering period of spring-midsummer. Nonetheless some plants that have faded and gone to seed can still add to the look of a garden. The papery seedheads of Honesty (Lunaria annua) are a good example. 

 The Royal Horticultural Society gardens at Wisley have plenty to see through the seasons including autumn. I paid a visit there a few days ago for their annual plant sale (and to have a look around of course).
 North America is a good source of late flowering perennials including various Eupatorium species which they call Joe Pye Weed over there. Several of these form striking clusters over 6 feet high with red-purple flowers that are much visited by butterflies and bees.
 So they're a bit out of scale for a London back garden but a couple of weeks ago I went to a plant sale in Highgate where Edulis had a stall; they cultivate many interesting and unusual plants from around the world. Among them they have a cultivar of Eupatorium dubium which goes by the name of "Little Joe" that grows to 3 or 4 feet tall only. I couldn't resist buying a few pots of it...

 

 Keats called autumn the "Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness" and it feels like we're getting to that point in the year.
 Picking blackberries is one of the joys of late summer/early autumn. Brambles can choke a garden but I like having a few here and there for some breakfast berries, and bees love the flowers.
 The apple tree we share with our neighbours has had a good year; we've got a decent crop of medium sized apples with a touch of sweetness but nicely crisp- delicious.
 And also some pomme de terre. I rake leaves off the lawn and paths every autumn and put them in a simple enclosure made of bamboo poles and chicken wire. Well rotted leaf mold is an excellent mulch e.g. for ferns. My flatmate chucked a few potatoes in last year's rakings and they sprouted, threw up shoots and produced a crop! 

 A Sphagnum moss bog is a very particular habitat. The many species of Sphagnum are the primary peat forming species of moss. Such bogs provide a niche environment for a whole spectrum of living things be they micro-organisms or larger plants and animals (insects, spiders, frogs, reptiles, birds etc.)
 I came across the one shown above by chance walking down from the rim of the Crater Lake caldera; no doubt there are others on the slopes fed by the snow-melt streams. If I return to these parts I see there is a large one marked on the map in the north west corner of the National Park. It can be reached by the Bald Crater Loop which connects with the Pacific Crest Trail at Red Cone Springs. Great names, maybe next time...
 Below is another example closer to home- on Wimbledon Common. Farm Bog is one of a few that can be found within Greater London (and the largest of them). I have to be honest and say that my main reason for being this side of town was a lunchtime drink with some pals. Since I was in the neighbourhood I thought I'd go in search of Farm Bog having read about it a few years ago. I suppose navigating Wimbledon Common lacks the drama of hiking in Oregon but finding this small survival of a primeval landscape in my home city is thrilling in its own way.
 I thought I must be getting close when the park path I was following became a hollow lane of sorts, a sure sign of an ancient route. The woodland around me was noticeably deeper and wilder here than elsewhere on the Common- the trees were gnarly and the ground covered in bracken. The air smelled different: damper and heavier. I followed an overgrown path heading downwards off the beaten track and as I hoped it skirted around this soft, squashy morass.