Althoug it became less warm in early autumns evening sun Försters Staudengarten invites you to a quiet place not far from husteling Berlin all year round.
Resilient asters, geraniums and silver grass are mixed into a goldenlilac feathery swaying into the first of cold nights.
Now and then wind tickeled the vervains which decided to seed itself within fields of asters and garden angelicas. The garden seduces us with colour and brightness of native autumn flowers.
There are no exotic plants or weeds, no garden luxury. There are only the down-to-earth growing which makes us feel light and happy – although winter blinks at us.
In that moment of bliss, in the heart of september, the wind stopped and the sun dropped down on flickering water, on bright yellow coneflowers, white japanese anemones, on giant chines silvergrass, small moorgrass and Japanes maple. It’s all arranged like in a garden book, perfectly intermingled, forming a bed of autumn colours. I’d love to have a garden like that.
Karl Förster who experienced human decay in two World Wars and died 1970 at the beginning of a new style and garden epoche raised herbacious hardy perennials. That is what he became famous for. You can find almost all his achievements in the nursery beside the garden. It will give you great pleasure to wander ailes and rows of perennials, in all colours, forms and hights sorted from A to Z. I’d loved the more than 30 Salvia types, which I enjoy not only on pasta. It’s defently worth going there.
