Was catching up on my Garden’s Illustrated reading over the Christmas holidays. I have a subscription that comes to the office and late in the year I just let the issues pile up in anticipation of my annual Christmas week off work.

Issue 179 looked at five roof gardens.

Both London gardens proved to have the most relevance to me.  Roof garden #2 is located in South London and was designed by photographer and owner Suzie Gibbons with help from garden designers Mhairi Clutson and Julie Wize. The garden is over five years old and uses grasses, sedum, lavender, daisies, fleabane and verbena for colour and texture. Galvanized tubs and planters are used effectively – there are even birch in large containers. This is a garden that isn’t trying too hard. It looks comfortable, usable and modern.

My favourite, hands down.

Garden #5, also in London, was designed by Sara Jane Rothwell. It’s a ‘prairie-style’ garden, just over three years old with sedum, penstemons, poppies, herbs, grass and yarrow. It has a soft pinky-cream glow to it and looks like it would stand up to the hot sun and wind. But the use of plastic fencing mesh was surprising, I’ll admit. Might be tricky getting that design element approved in Canada.

Roof garden #1 is in Paris, and was designed in 2004 by Arnaud Maurieres and Eric Ossart. It looks at first glance like it might be a little claustrophobic, with massive Miscanthus plantings – it would be pretty interesting to be in the middle of this garden in a heavy wind. The article notes rudbeckia and aster have proven to be tough enough to hold their own, year after year in the garden. This is the garden pictured on the cover of the magazine.

Roof garden #3 and #4 each have their own unique features. Garden #3 in New York is owned by green roof designers, so part of the large space is used to cultivate plants for their projects like lupins, echinacea and coreopsis. They also have trees, grass(?), roses, a kitchen garden and chicken coop – it’s intense and the largest of the gardens featured. Garden #4, designed by Adam Shephard, is a sampling of different elements and materials. This one is more like a show room for ideas than a garden.

The requirements of a roof garden are complex and more often than not, require the help of professionals to design and build. But with planning and a little local plant knowledge, a balcony gardener can successfully take the ideas and concepts illustrated in this magazine and simplify, scale down, adjust and apply to container-based gardening. I know I’m going to give it a try.

Headed west last week to BC for my dad’s birthday bash. The land was a pale, late autumn gold and the highway south toward the border was dry. Unusually dry for this time of year. But I was just happy that it wasn’t snowing in my little part of southern Alberta.

Drove past the slide, through the crowsnest, by the ski hill and finally turned right at the fish.

The valley where my parents live typically gets a few good dumps of snow, but it’s never too cold. On the day we were there the snow was slowly melting around the plants in the front flower garden. On the slopes that were fully exposed to the sun, the snow had melted quickly revealing a flowing, rust carpet of leaves.

Under the pear trees, the melting snow also revealed this critter. Sleeping? Maybe not.

I almost missed bulb-buying season.

We have had a beautiful fall this year. The leaves have actually had time to change colour, as compared to recent fall seasons where leaves were frozen green.

I’ve posted before about not having any success wintering over bulbs in the alpine troughs on the balcony, much to my disappointment. But I always like to go for a little shop, have a look and at least buy some paper whites. This year I decided to force some bulbs, so was really caught be surprise when I finally went shopping and found out that all the bulbs were on sale and the selection was very limited.

I did find paper whites and picked up from the sales table some crocus and snowdrops. I bought Snow Crocus, Snowbunting, a pretty little white crocus with a yellow throat and a bag of mixed Snow Crocus – white, pale purple, dark purple and gold. Crocus will top off at about 10 cm (4 inches) high. Of similar stature are Snowdrops – I bought the last two packages of Galanthus, Perce de Neiges.

So the bulbs are now in the fridge for about 12 weeeks. I’ll check them every week or so to make sure that they aren’t drying out (or going moldy) and look forward to the new year when they will be planted.

I love this time of year  – like many gardeners. But I also like to get out of town on the weekend. There’s nothing better than a trip to the mountains to clear out the little grey cells. The vistas at this time of year can be pretty spectacular – that pre-winter flush of fresh white is always both an awesome and slightly threatening image.

Living in the heart of the city can sometimes disconnect you from the inevitable impact the local climate will have on you – and your balcony garden. By this time of the year, the gusty winds are nothing more than an occasional nuisance. The driving rain, refreshing. And the hail, if you are lucky enough to have a protected balcony like mine, nothing more than a brief bit of excitement.

Our unusually warm fall has also helped defer thoughts of winter.

Snow. It’s an all too distant memory. We’ve had a couple of frost warnings, but I mostly ignore the first ones – 11 floors up is not a low-lying area. Granted the recent morning walks to the office have been brisk. There are hints of weather to come which I am choosing to ignore.

I’m always reluctant to clean out those last few pots on the balcony. Even the plants that are marked to come to the office still are out on the deck, moved in front of the sliding glass windows, so I don’t forget to water. Maybe next weekend I’ll haul them.

So I admit I was startled when we drove up to the top of the Highwood Pass this past weekend. With about 46 cm (a foot and a half) of snow in the parking lot, the reality of things to come hit home. Luckily it was a sunny day, so the cold wind in the valley was countered slightly. And it was beautiful in it’s own right. Most of the larch have dropped their needles, but a few pale gold patches could still be seen. But winter has started to arrive up there already, the switch has been flipped.

Also, a bear closure is posted for the Ptarmigan Cirque hiking trail and basin. Grizzly sow and 2 cubs in the area – a note that shouldn’t be ignored although the path into the basin is packed down.

I don’t know. Last time we hiked up to the alpine meadow we met a few mountain sheep on the trail that were large enough to not only get our attention but encourage us to give way. Would not want to meet mom and her 2 cubs on the narrow, closed in trail.

I’ll be finishing up the fall balcony clean up this week. Nothing like a little taste of winter to help you focus on the task at hand. Soon enough gardening gloves will turn into mitts.

I don’t get a lot of insect visitors on the balcony, so when it happens it gets my attention. This little critter came by for most of September – a nice change from the typical aggressive yellow jackets that sometime visit in the fall. Take a look.

I like Elaine’s Pollinator Bed. And on the balcony, I’m trying to do my part by growing sedum, thrift, aquilegia, clematis and potentilla to encourage bees to visit and pollinate my containers.

My parents garden in BC in Zone 6. It’s hot in the summer – +30˚C and mild in the winter, typically with good moisture – lots of snow. My mom has a pollinator-friendly flower bed that is in the full sun, so roses and liatris under-planted with thyme and lavender thrive. Local honey bees are pretty happy and active too. But although there seems to be a bee on every plant, there aren’t as many as there used to be. My dad used to have beehives, but retired them because of problems with the Varroa Mite in the area.

We all know the role of the pollinator is increasingly important. Another reason to have a bee-friendly garden on your balcony.

The new issue of Soiled and Seeded is now online. Its a mixed collection of stories each time and in this edition I like the story about concrete planter box interventions in Toronto. Sean Martindale organized a group of artists to breath life back into the planters. The story touches on the challenges many cities face – of maintaining downtown planter boxes – initially installed to green a street but sometimes quickly forgotten. Maintenance often reverts to local businesses and concerned citizens. Sean was the instigator of the 24-hour public project and the first recipient of a Toronto FEAST Project Grant. I think that Sean’s three works are some of the best. Have a look.