It’s a wonder nature makes autumn hues so warm and vibrant. Why not cool, soft pastels? Blue, lavender and soft pink should, by all rights, segue into winter. Nature’s last colorful hurrah before the inevitably cold months seems so ironically warm and exuberant.

This time of year, plants that don’t embody lively, fiery tones naturally are in sad decline. We gardeners must accept this depressing state of affairs. The lush nasturtiums, bursting with their second wind of autumn greenery and scarlet and orange flowers, were crushed by frost last week. Ever-optimistic obedient plant stems still jut skyward, yet their pathetic stems are yellow and weary. The cathedral bells vines cling to the house with hope, sporting papery buds that seem to promise a glimpse of color any moment, but the plant’s lower leaves look foreboding with their frost-struck brownery. (It is certainly no longer greenery!)

There’s the ordinary, and then there are strange occurences in the landscape at this time of year. For example, burdock and comfrey skeletons.

All summer, giant burdock plants grew along an old fence line near the garden. These leafy green things conveniently provided cover for our dear furry Mr. Groundhog, a garden visitor with whom we cultivate a love-hate relationship. Every time the wheelbarrow rolled past, he’d scurry into his protective refuge. Enormous leaves quickly fell back into place like a magical curtain and, if one were to listen intently, his maniacal giggling could be heard from within.

Over the last week, the burdock plants suddenly began to lose their leaves. Mr. Groundhog – or some other wandering forager, perhaps – made short work of the plant’s organs. Why? I wondered. With lots of tempting produce and greenery still in the garden, why munch the burdock down to its stems? Perhaps the leaves provided an autumn tonic for the critter? Upon researching the plant a bit, I discovered that indeed, the root, leaves and seeds have medicinal properties. Most often, it is the root that is used for a variety of purposes, namely alleviating skin ailments, burns and swelling. Maybe Mr. Groundhog intuitively knows about burdock’s healing properties.

And then, the same thing happened to the clump of comfrey growing under a pine tree in the yard. Lush and rambunctious all summer, the leaves this week began to disappear each night, until only stems remained. Plenty of browse and greenery around the yard could have been selected. Instead, some wild creature’s taste buds were tantalized by the comfrey.

People use comfrey leaves and roots as an ointment, poultice or compress for reducing swelling in bruises and sprains. Some people use it internally and externally, but some herbalists and scientists believe long-term use may lead to cancer.

Consciously or unconsciously we, too, are affected by the pull of change the season brings. While burdock and comfrey don’t necessarily appeal to us, other comforting foods certainly do. No matter how warm the landscape looks outside the window, fingers and toes feel the chill of the season setting in. So as long as they like, I say, let the wild creatures browse on herbs. And, pass the hot cocoa and cinnamon rolls, please!

Diana George Chapin is the NEWS garden columnist. Send horticulture questions to Gardening Questions, 512 North Ridge Road, Montville 04941 or e-mail dianagc@midcoast.com. Selected questions will be answered in future columns. Include name, address and telephone number.