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Fall has a way of sneaking up on me. I go along like there’s all the time in the world, thinking leisurely thoughts about eventually getting around to bringing plants inside, taking out the dahlias and planting bulbs.

And wouldn’t it be a great time to amend all the beds with compost? But I’m in no hurry — nothing like the frantic rush of spring. That is, right up until the forecast calls for frost, or in this October’s case, a freakishly timed snowy nor’easter.

This season caught me more off guard than any I can remember maybe because I’m still watching the insects (and listening to crickets) and there hasn’t been as much yet in the way of fall color to trigger me into action. Tropical Storm Irene browned out much of our horizon way back in August and everyone’s been saying it would be a lousy autumn.

Well, of course it isn’t lousy. Color might not be splashed across the landscape but it’s definitely under the eyes of us gardeners more accustomed by spring to focus on the details. Turning leaves on the odd tree and shrub aside, frost-proof flowers are still blazing away in my garden. Bees are busier than ever working nicotiana, salvia, agastache, roses and the very last-to-bloom perennials and I’m in no big hurry to cut anything back yet. Leopard plant (Farfugium japonicum ‘Aureomaculata’) earns its keep (moist soil in partial shade) all summer with rounded gold-speckled leaves, but just in time for Halloween it sends up lemon yellow deely-bobber daisies. The books say it’s not quite hardy here but apparently my 2-year-old clump isn’t into reading.

Trumpet spur-flower (Rabdosia longituba) also thrives in partial shade but prefers it on the dry side. It rewards observant gardeners and pollinators with a delicate haze of indigo flowers that hover along their stems like tiny wingless damselflies. The plants are about three feet tall and get leggy and sparse if they’re not cut back hard in June or early July. If you’re very lucky, they’ll seed around.

Late asters and mums could go without saying but what would the bees do without them? I’m not talking about the “pan mums” sold with pumpkins at roadside stands but the hardy garden mums like dusty pink Chrysanthemum ‘Sheffield.’ The open daisies of hardy mums are full of available pollen and actually hum on sunny days.

Just because it snowed (a mere dusting) doesn’t mean it’s time to panic. It’s not too late to get to all of the chores on my list. It would be too late for my houseplants if I hadn’t beat feet to get them in last minute but the dahlias prefer to get “hit.” I’ve dug them up both before and after frost and they’ve been fine either way but the tubers definitely seem tougher and readier for dormancy (wrapped in newspaper down cellar) after frost.

It’s never too late to plant bulbs so long as the ground is unfrozen and dig-able. Daffodils and the early bloomers like crocus and snowdrops should go in the ground ASAP for extra time to root, but I know someone who once didn’t get her tulips in until Christmas (no, it wasn’t me) and they bloomed right on time in May.

I’m always nervous planting bulbs. Are they down deep enough (they should be two to three times as deep as they are tall)? Are they right-side up? The upside of Anemone blanda clods and some varieties of allium is anyone’s guess. The good news is they’ll usually right themselves if you’re wrong. Just like sowing seeds, planting bulbs requires a leap of faith.

And sometimes fall requires a leap of faith, too. Whether it comes in a blaze of leafy glory or looks like summer one day and winter the next, we’re lucky here to have a long and lovely autumn. We just need to take our time to notice and enjoy it.

Kristin Green is the interpretive horticulturist at Blithewold Mansion, Gardens & Arboretum in Bristol. She has worked at Blithewold since 2003 and has written their garden blog (blog.blithewold.org) since 2007.