"Gaze up at the stars knowing that I see the same sky and wish the same sweet dreams." — Elizabeth Barrett Browning

September is passing quickly. Labor Day, the "unofficial" end of summer, and a day, among other things signifying the time that one is "supposed to stop wearing white" (until Memorial Day of the following year as I discussed in a previous post which you may refer to by clicking here) was ten days ago.

In the Northern Hemisphere, the Autumn Equinox will take place next week on Friday, September 23rd 2011 at 4:05 in the morning, and even though the Autumn Equinox (marking the "official" end of summer) is eight days away, the sun is already rising later now, and nightfall comes upon us sooner and sooner with each passing day. It is a time in many gardens — urban (like that of yours truly) and otherwise — in which many things are past their grandeur, but, in spite of this, an impressive, twining vine with a sensuous scent is in its glory, and its splendor is truly a signal that summer is passing, and that Autumn is barreling down on us.
That vine is my Autumn Clematis, or Sweet Autumn Clematis (the vine's full name) as I should be calling it since it gets its name from its seductive (and not the least bit over-powering) scent. I should also note that it is "sweet" because of its delicate, small, star-shaped blossoms, which are white (as evidenced in the photograph at the top of today's blog entry).

Since the Sweet Autumn Clematis is a fall blooming vine, it pays no attention to fashion rules by wearing white after Labor Day (as I indicated in the aforementioned blog entry). In fact, it boasts hundreds and hundreds of delicate white flowers, as evidenced in the photographs below,

which were taken yesterday as well as today in my terrace garden, where my Sweet Autumn Clematis is thriving, as it playfully hops on trivets, which were placed on my wall in May of 2010 by Juan V — a fact that was discussed in previous blog entries including ones which you may refer to by clicking here and here; and my Sweet Autumn Clematis is included in my first garden themed movie, The Kiwi Speaks! Fifteen Minutes of Fame . . . almost. This movie was discussed in a blog entry which you may refer to by clicking here, and also, it is now on Vimeo at the following link (please click here).

However, while the "Sweet Autumn Clematis is thriving, as it playfully hops on trivets";  it must be doing so in spite of what could easily be melancholy feelings.  After all, the Sweet Autumn Clematis's entrance is aways synonymous with things in the garden dying back (although, thankfully, in the case of my garden that is not happening yet); and, moreover, since my Sweet Autumn Clematis is a perennial, it  has had to cope with seeing certain annuals pass away knowing they will not return again.

My Ipomocea multifida AKA Cardinal Climber will presumably be one of those passing annuals since its "stats" claim it will not make it through winter (but depending on the harshness of winter, it may stick around for another season). In any event, these vines, the Sweet Autumn Clematis and the Cardinal Climber, at the moment are keeping each other company as they thrive in their respective spots: the Sweet Autumn Clematis doing so on the trivets which Juan V installed, and the Cardinal Climber, doing so on the trellis which Juan V built as evidenced by photographs of the Cardinal Climber which are posted below.

My Cardinal Climber's roots are planted in pots attached to a trellis located in the middle of the west portion of my terrace, while my Sweet Autumn Clematis's roots  make their home in a container in the southeast corner of my terrace garden. The path of my Sweet Autumn Clematis has usually been to travel straight up the trivets on my wall and to head east, while the path of my Cardinal Climber thus far has been to climb up the trellis and to head to both the south and north corners of my garden.

Both yesterday and today, I noticed that a portion of my Cardinal Climber seemed to be heading towards my Sweet Autumn Clematis, as if it wants to say goodbye; and I photographed the Cardinal Climber's fern-like leaves reaching out to the leaves of my Sweet Autumn Clematis (which I've posted below in an image that includes the bulbs from my string lights to give you a sense of scale in imaging the size of both my Cardinal Climber's leaves as well as my Sweet Autumn Clematis's buds and flowers),

as if to say — quoting Elizabeth Barrett Browning — "Gaze up at the stars knowing that I see the same sky and wish the same sweet dreams."