That Magic Muhly Moment

I sit in a comfy chair by the window in the living room a good part of the day, gazing down at the laptop. Sometimes, often, I look up to peer through the blinds that are adjusted to allow a small opening for me to see out without the world seeing inside much. It’s a small slice of garden goodness, especially in October when the pink muhly grass is blooming. Muhlenbergia capillaris, that is.

When in full bloom the pink muhly is lovely, a cotton candy confection. It is unique among grasses for color and fluffiness. Why it is not growing in every garden where it is hardy is beyond comprehension. I have done my best to bring attention to it through multiple blog posts over the years.

It is for sale in my area right now at the big box store that begins with an “L” and ends with an “‘S”. That is where I bought my first plants back in 2000 for the old garden. Those plants were divided ruthlessly to form large, impressive swaths. Seedlings were dug and brought here to the new garden in 2014. They have grown well.

In a full sun down sloping plot behind the mailbox, the muhly holds court in mid October. I like to look at it during the day, but as the sun is setting something special takes place.

For ten minutes at most, right before 7 PM, the pink muhly transforms from mere plants to brilliant flashing feathers of fiery jewels waving in the breeze.

While morning light bestows pink to the landscape, the setting sun paints with a golden brush.

I have been waiting and watching this event nightly, wanting to capture the magic to share with you, dear readers.

Kitty stands guard from the curb at the driveway edge, also waiting.  He likes to watch that evening sun go down. Hey Kitty, get out of the street!

This is it, the last moment of illumination before the sun disappears below the horizon. Until tomorrow…

~~~

To read about how the stand of muhly grass has grown since first planted here in the new garden click here. Information on how to grow Muhlenbergia capillaris can be found in this post.  (The metal pineapple sculpture was a gift from my husband to celebrate my mid-century birthday, purchased in Texas.)

Frances