Autumn Colours

 There’s a certain magic to September on the allotment. The light is softer, the shadows longer, and while the nights are cooling down, the plots are still alive with bursts of colour. Some flowers are giving one last push before the frosts arrive, others are just coming into their own, and the vegetables are quietly offering up their final harvests. It’s a season that carries both energy and calmness — a reminder that even as the year edges towards autumn, the allotment still has plenty left to give.

This week, as I walked along the rows with Sam and Iris, I found myself stopping more often than usual. Not to pull a weed or tie up a straggly stem, but just to stand and admire the colours around me. You forget sometimes, when you’re caught up in the digging, watering, and harvesting, that the allotment is as beautiful as any garden. Right now it’s a proper patchwork quilt of colours, shapes, and scents.

Marigolds: Golden Guardians

First to catch the eye are the marigolds. They’re flowering their hearts out, bright as buttons, with that rich golden glow that feels like bottled sunshine. Marigolds are never just ornamental here — they’ve been quietly working all summer to help deter pests, tucking themselves in between the vegetables and doing their part for the allotment’s balance. Iris has been busy collecting the seed heads, carefully snipping them off and popping them into paper bags. Once dried, we’ll have a mountain of seed ready for next year. It’s one of the simplest joys of gardening: saving your own seed. You get colour for free, year after year, and the satisfaction of knowing those flowers are part of a continuing story.

Petunias and Dahlias: Late Season Showstoppers

Beside them, the petunias are still standing strong, almost defiant in their late-season display. Their blooms are like splashes of paint scattered across the plot, and despite the knocks of rain and wind, they’ve kept going. They may be common flowers, but when they’re still shining away in September, they’re worth their weight.

Then there are the dahlias. What a year they’ve had! I started them from seed back in spring, not quite knowing how well they’d perform. Well, they’ve outdone themselves — flowering like mad, with big, blousy blooms in reds, pinks, and oranges that could stop you in your tracks. There’s something satisfying about knowing those flowers came from a packet of seed, a bit of care, and a lot of patience. At the end of the season, I’ll lift the tubers, tuck them away for winter, and then pot them up next year. If all goes well, they’ll carry on giving for years to come, getting stronger with every season.

The Supporting Cast: Asters, Lobelia, and Nicotiana

The needle asters are still putting on a fine display. They’re a little more delicate than the bold dahlias, but they bring a froth of colour that softens the edges of the plot. Their clusters of small blooms are a reminder that sometimes beauty is found in the finer details.

Our Scottish marigolds, on the other hand, are looking a bit weary now. They’ve had a good run, but the season is catching up with them. Their colour is still there, but it’s fading, like the last echoes of summer.

The lobelia, though, is still throwing out its stunning blue flowers. That shade of blue is unlike anything else on the allotment — almost like little patches of sky dropped into the soil. You can’t help but smile when you see them still pushing on this late in the year.

And then there’s the nicotiana. Tall, elegant, and still in full bloom, with that lovely sweet scent in the evenings. It’s the sort of plant that makes you linger a little longer before heading home, just to take in the perfume on the air.

The Sunflowers: Late but Worth the Wait

One of the surprises this week has been the late-sown dwarf sunflowers. We planted them much later than usual, half-expecting they wouldn’t do much. But here they are, finally coming into bloom, full of cheerful yellow faces that brighten up the whole allotment. There’s something so uplifting about sunflowers — even the smaller varieties have a way of turning the whole place cheerful. They might be late to the party, but they’ve arrived just in time to give us one last burst of joy before the season winds down.

Harvests to Match the Flowers

While Iris was busily snipping marigold seed heads, me and Sam turned our attention to the veg. The courgette plants, which have been so generous all summer, finally gave up their last fruits this week. We picked them gratefully, knowing we’ve had a good run of them. The French climbing beans have also given us their final flush, and we gathered up what was left before clearing the plants away. It’s always a little bittersweet — you’re glad of the harvest, but you know the beds will look emptier without their green tangle of vines.

The cherry tomatoes, on the other hand, are still hanging on, giving us handfuls of bright red jewels. They’ve been perfect for salads, snacks, and just popping straight into your mouth as you work. Our outdoor cucumbers have been the real stars of the year, though. We’ve had absolutely loads of them, more than we expected, and they’ve been crisp, refreshing, and a real treat. You can’t beat a cucumber straight from the plant — nothing in the shops comes close.

Before we packed up for the day, we dug another bunch of carrots. Some went straight into the freezer, some into the dinner pot, and some over the fence to the neighbours, who always appreciate a bundle. There’s something so grounding about pulling up carrots — brushing off the soil, seeing that flash of bright orange. It’s the kind of harvest that makes you feel properly connected to the soil.

A September Mood

What struck me most this week wasn’t just the flowers or the vegetables, but the way the allotment feels at this time of year. The colours are deeper, the scents stronger in the cool air, and the bees and butterflies are making the most of what’s left. You can hear the rustle of leaves, see the shadows lengthen earlier in the evening, and sense that the allotment is beginning to slow down.

But slowing down doesn’t mean stopping. The flowers are still determined, the harvests still coming, and the jobs still piling up. There are seeds to collect, beds to clear, compost to turn, and plans to make for next year. Every time you tick one job off the list, another one appears — but that’s part of the joy of it. The allotment keeps you busy, keeps you learning, and keeps you looking ahead.

Heading Home

As we packed away our tools, buckets of beans, cucumbers, and carrots in hand, I took one last look across the plot. The marigolds glowing, the dahlias bursting with colour, the sunflowers standing proud. It reminded me that allotments aren’t just about growing food. They’re about beauty, memory, and connection. They’re places where flowers and vegetables sit side by side, each adding their own kind of value.

Walking home with Sam and Iris, I felt grateful. Grateful for the colours, grateful for the harvests, and grateful for the time spent together. Even as autumn edges closer, the allotment is still alive with beauty. It’s a reminder that every season, even one that’s drawing to a close, has its own kind of richness.