April may be the cruelest month, but in terms of life gardening, August is arguably the shittiest. If your garden is anything like ours, it has entered 'the slump,' a demoralizing period when your favorite perennials have already flowered, the conifers are sagging and even the most dependable annuals are riddled with holes from mysterious and seemingly incurable infestations of leaf-munching bugs. While this can be an excellent time to reflect on what went wrong-and if you can afford it and have the space, to order some late-blooming summer bulbs for next year-it can also be an ideal time to say: 'Fuck it, let's go back to Wave Hill!'

I recommend driving if you can, so that you can spend a few extra minutes touring through the surrounding neighborhood, where it's depressing fun to fantasize about owning a house (preferably modern, with Hudson River views and a chlorine-free pool) in what is known as 'The Estate Section of Riverdale' (The Bronx). What you will immediately notice is that Wave Hill-even in the parking lot (pictured above, with an impressive array of pink daylilies)-has successfully avoided a slump. Try not to be jealous!

We first went to the flower garden, where we admired the many dahlias in bloom.

Stephen cautioned me against confusing dahlias with zinnias, which can sometimes look kind of similar! (I'm pretty sure the flower below is a dahlia, but a really cool purple one.)

After drifting in and around the 'alpine house' and the wild garden-more on that at a future date, perhaps-we went to the water garden, which according to the Wave Hill web site is 'at its best in late summer through the fall, [with] highlights including water lilies, lotus and other aquatic plants.'

We admired a Nymphaea 'Peach Glow' (or Hardy Water Lily cultivar).

The Nymphaea tetragona 'Rubra' (or Pygmy Water Lily) also impressed.

As did the variegated lily pads.

Time passed, and because Wave Hill never feels crowded or 'touristy' we were hardly bothered by the many children and their non-homosexual parents, even the two mothers we overheard aggressively comparing their daughters' less-than-ideal behavior. 'I just wanted to apologize for ____'s meltdown,' said one as we waited in line to buy iced coffee. 'Oh that's nothing,' said her friend, 'wait until you hear what ___ is like when I tell her we have to leave.'

Eventually we made it to the sunflower patch, which according to a sign was planted as part of a crop rotation in lieu of squash and pumpkins.

'Sunflowers provide a glorious show in the late summer,' the sign informed us, 'and this planting of more than eighteen varieties should more than make up for the lack of pumpkins.' Who could argue?

Before we left, we walked under the arbor facing the river, where we spotted two women in Adirondack chairs doing the crossword puzzle together. We could not help but speculate that they were a couple who after living together for ____ decades were still able to find pleasure in each other's company on a Saturday afternoon. Such is the magic of Wave Hill, even in August.

We returned home and were pleased to find that with new eyes, our own garden seemed a little less tired in the late-summer heat.

Matthew Gallaway is a writer who lives in Washington Heights. His first novel, "The Metropolis Case," will be published in 2010 by Crown.