Archive for the ‘Favorite Perennials’ Category

The Silver Maple

A client purchased an empty lot next door to them, with the idea of completely reinventing the landscape such that two properties would read as one. Though it did not have the best looking shape in the world, there was an existing silver maple they were reluctant to take down. I understand this feeling completely; I do not like to take down trees either. I work with existing plants all the time; we would work with this one. 

Every other plant on both lots was dug and moved.  The maple was out there on its own. I did not want to design a landscape around this tree; it was in less than ideal condition.  There were views across the new lot that would be important from the rear porch; I could tell right away that the landscape design would be impacted by this tree.   I designed the schematic landscape as if it were not there, knowing that when the time came, I would be working around that tree. 

The landscape eventually called for four large perennial beds that would terminate in a radius of arborvitae.    A pergola 27 feet long set midway and perpendicular to those beds visually anchors the space.  The silver maple is just barely visible on the left; the trunk is half in, and half out of the bed.  I rather like a very formal design that is punctuated by some unexpected  element.  The element of surprise can be a very effective way to focus attention on the overall geometry of the space. 

There was but a very short time that this view would be visible.  Once the plants were installed, it would look like that tree had sprouted and grown out of an existing garden. The fact that the trunk tips slightly away from the garden lends a little visual weight to that argument.  Much more difficult than than getting this tree to work with these four quadrant gardens would be getting the perennials to work with that tree. The maple casts a good deal of shade-the shade was by no means even.  I wanted a tall and substantial garden with plant material that repeated the same mix in each quadrant.  My client wanted perennials with white, lavender and purple flowers.

The view out to the gardens is a long one. What was an empty lot is not so empty anymore. I believe that even if the maple had fallen within the grass path out to the pergola, the design would still have worked. Three multi-trunked birch that had once been in the back yard were successfully transplanted to the side lot. 

I chose plants with a reputation for tolerating varying conditions.  Hellebores I knew would do fine even in the sunnier areas. Bridal Veil Astilbe, and Astilbe Tacquettii Superba do well here.  Gold drop hosta, Jack Frost brunnera, White Innocence and Concord grape tradescantia and alchemilla mollis were planted along the border with sufficient space in between to allow for some low annual planting. The dominant plant is snakeroot-cimicifuga racemosa.  Its white bottle-brush flowers on long graceful racemes give a garden the height I was after.  Monarda fistulosa Claire Grace gives a  great show of lavender flowers at about the same time.   

The pergola was planted with sweet autumn clematis, clematis Jackmani Superba, and clematis viticella violacea. It has been a challenge to keep the rabbits away from them, but they finally seem like they are taking hold. 

I plant an occasional nicotiana alata white, here and there.  White Japanese anemone and aconitums are the star of the show in very late summer. They are just budding up now.

It has been three years since this garden was planted; it seems to be doing well.  Of course there will come a time when some division or replacing will be necessary.  The clematis are a little behind schedule-the day when they are dripping from the roof of the pergola will be a good day. 


The silver maple in question has company now.

A Perfect Moment

Janet has called twice in the past two days to invite me to come around for a look.  As she doesn’t invite unless there is something splendid to see, I stopped on my way home from work-around 6pm.  The skies had finally clouded over and looked stormy. Her courtyard-redolent with the fragrance of roses.  Thousands of roses.  Anyone who loves roses believes, works, and hopes for a moment like this.   

I spent perhaps a half hour there.  The first view as I drove in shocked me- it was so stunning. A mild winter, an unusually mild and rainy spring had given way to a relentless spell of hot weather.  Her early summer garden burst forth with a spectacular show of hands.  My second trip around the garden, I took the time to see everything.  The Canadian Explorer rose John Davis-perfection. Who knows how many years ago I planted this pair of roses.

There was plenty to see.  The white clematis Montana rambling over the wall and into the roses-splendid. The peonies, mostly singles and Japanese types, are in all stages of bud and bloom.

Every plant looked perfectly happy, and beautifully tended.  Janet puts an incredible amount of time,thought and work to her garden-that was evident everywhere I looked.   

This kousa dogwood has been in her garden as long as I have known her-25 years.  I have never seen it bloom like this.  I am especially fond of Kousas, as they comes into bloom slowly enough to give you time to enjoy all of its stages.   

Roses and clematis are a heavenly combination. I spent a half hour in heaven at the end of a grueling day-thanks a million, Janet. I did spend some of that time thinking about all the work that has gone on in this garden over the years-at one point (when I was young) every square inch of this garden was double dug and loaded with all manner of compost.

The explorer rose John Cabot was representing just as beautifully as John Davis.  These roses are tough and hardy in my zone.  They are also amazingly long lived.  I have planted a number of them over the years; those that were planted in front yard gardens I see they are still going strong. When I managed the perennial department for Al Goldner, he indulged my passion for roses.  In addition to the tea roses he was so fond of, we carried many varieties of shrub roses and rose species.  I have a memory of being pulled over at the US-Canadian border; I had been to Hortico, and had five hundred bareroot roses on my truck-and no phytosanitary certificate.  I never tried that again.   

This June flush is the best and the brightest we will have in a season.  That alone makes a strong and splendid display all the more precious. Of course I went home wanting to grow more roses.  The few I have are beautiful in their own right at the moment, and I am greatly enjoying them. 


These queen bees of the garden are worth the trouble, as when they are good, they are very very good.  They have a beauty and charm missing from the newer varieties of “landscape roses”-I cannot exactly explain why.  The knockout series of roses have their place-they are tough and disease resistant.  They lack a little of the romance I associate with roses.  I will plant them in places where no other rose will do-but what I saw here was everything I would ever want in a rose, and some years do not get.


Thanks for this, Janet.

Breaking The Ice

 


I am sure you can spot the dismay on Howard’s face-he had just discovered that his favorite water dish/fountain was iced over a couple days ago.  This shocked him-but he did go ahead and break the ice.  There are those spring plants that brave the vagaries of Michigan weather, including waking up to the ice.  Those tiny corms one plants by the twenty-fives or hundreds in the fall have a persistence in the spring that belies their small size; the crocus is one of the best known harbingers of spring. 

Last spring came in fits and starts.  These crocus “Pickwick” had sent up leaves and then flowers-only to have to endure the above weather.  The crocus season can be short or long; the weather calls the shots. Both the leaves and the flowers are covered in a waxy cuticle-that protects them from a late winter blast.  The species crocus-my favorite is crocus sieberi- are less robust in their form than the crocus vernus hybrids, but equally as weather tolerant.


I have a modest patch that came with the house fifteen years ago.  They thrive and increase slowly-via seeding, I am sure-and really demand nothing from me.  Like most gardeners, when they finally appear, I wonder why I did not plant scads more the previous fall.  Maybe this coming fall I will do better. 

Of the large flowered hybrids, Pickwick is my favorite.  The stripes are great; the intensely orange stamens are even better.  In a great spring, I will have them the better part of two weeks, maybe more. 

Their small flowers make planting them en masse a good idea.  This area of my garden has other spring flowers to come-like phlox divaricata, and a planting of European ginger that seems finally to be taking hold.  Later in the year, the hostas hold forth into the fall.  The crocus do not seem to be deterred by the companionship to come.  It seems fitting that a perennial as ephemeral as this would ask nothing in the way of care.  They just show up to the party every year, regular as rain.


The grassy foliage is distinguised by a white stripe down the center.  You really do have to get down on the ground to fully appreciate how beautiful a plant they are. I have not put my new knee to the kneeling test yet-but maybe tonight.  My weather forecast-81 degrees today, and 32 degrees overnight.  Can you hear me sighing?  If not tonight, I may need to wait until next year to get as close as I would like. I am sure my PT would approve of the gesture-he is determined to get me down on that knee.

However, crocus are not at all bad from overhead, either.  It is important to place them where they can be properly appreciated. I leave this part of the garden cleanup until after all of my spring plants have come and gone.  I think they like all the debris that seems to appear in spring, no matter how well I clean up in the fall.  Part of their charm is how jewel like they are, laying in their compost bed.


Should you have no crocus, or any of the small spring bloomers from eranthis to muscari, snowdrops and chionodoxa, now is the time to decide where to plant them come fall.  I will take pictures of some spots, and hope for a small bulb plant fest come October.  Should you think of it, will you try to remind me?


So many beautiful things are coming my way; the crocus are only the beginning.

Sunday Opinion: Success

Though there is nothing revolutionary or even provocative about the idea, I have been thinking about it. That is, that nothing makes for enthusiasm quite like success.  A friend was asking about my very first garden-what exactly was that like?  In 1980, armed with 4000.00 in cash from the sale of my first house in Ferndale, and an 8000.00 loan from my grandmother, I was able to buy a house and 5 acres in Orchard Lake for $60,000.00.  How so?  Though Orchard Lake is a very nice community and five acres is a whomping lot of land, we were in the middle of a recession, and the house in question was a disaster in every way.  The furnace had been installed in a dirt hole under the house-a ladder was required to go take a look at it. The first spring I lived there, said hole flooded; I had no heat at all after April 1. Every other part of the house was on a par with this, or worse.  The house was so bad, I had to get homeowner’s insurance through a state pool of high risk properties. I was 30 years old-what did I know?  All I could see was the property-and the possibilities that property would afford me.  My Mom cried when she saw it-I remember being so annoyed with her.  I had enthusiasm-what else did I need?

I actually needed plenty, and couldn’t afford one thing, once the mortgage and that insurance was paid every month.  We knocked down the garage, whose roof was balanced on unmortared columns of concrete blocks, and disposed of it one truckload at a time.  The hand-excavation for the drive-in garage had left the foundation of the house exposed-an excavating guy said he would bring in 300 yards of sandy dirt, and rough grade it all for 2000.00.  Nana to the rescue, a second time.  I think she had more confidence that I could make this work than my Mom.  She decided up front that if I could not make a go of it, she would bail me out.  She never said so out loud, but I think from the start she insured me against disaster.

But back to my first garden.  I was left with a really roughly graded, unmowably steep slope of a giant size-now what? Most of the gardening I had done to that point was confined to reading and mooning over plant catalogues, and garden books from the library. I had a few beds around the house-a few great plants trying to survive the weedfest. Not having an unlimited budget, I wanted plants that would spread.  Ground covers for sun.  Many sunny groundcovers came under the heading of rock garden plants-so I decided I would have a rock garden.  A sympathetic neighbor with an ancient Ford tractor dragged huge rocks from the property up to the top of the slope, and  turned them loose. Gravity made half the placement decisions, the puffy new soil the other half.  My rocks sank like the stones they were- at least half way into the ground. My first success-each rock looked like it had been there long enough for the earth to come up around it like an opulent stole.

My second success-what dumb luck that the soil that came to me was very sandy, and well drained, as most of the property was intractably heavy clay.  I spent what seemed like a king’s ransom on little spreading plants-but the sheer square footage of the area swallowed them up.  Not having one clue about mulch or weed prevention, I weeded-for years and years- before it filled in. Then I moved into crown growing plants, for a little vertical interest. I had myself a rock garden.  Dianthus, saponaria, aethionema , thymes, species tulips, iris chrysographes, and forrestii-and my favorite-encrusted saxifrage.  I could not get over the fact that the saxifrage leaves were stone-limestone- encrusted. I still can’t. My plants grew, and that success fueled my enthusiasm for more.  When I sold the house fifteen years later, it was actually liveable.  But what I hated leaving behind the most were my gardens. The rock garden was my first on that property,  but not my one and only.

My success had mostly to do with fortuitous accident.  I would never have dug out 1000 square feet of sod for a garden all at one time-not then.  The sheer size of the area of bare dirt forced me to deal with the space as a whole.  I planned little plant villages and neighborhoods. I had an east coast, and a west coast.   I saw where the water ran downhill in a fierce rain, and gravelled those gullies. I planted accordingly. I had a country going on, and it was my job to govern the whole thing. The spots I could see coming up the front walk got my favorites.  On my own, I would have started small, and added on.  What is it about add on’s that they always look added on? The sandy gritty soil-I am sure my excavating person had some he wanted to get rid of, or perhaps it was on special that day. Wherever it came from, my rock plants loved where they lived. 

My best friend Margaret gave me Louise Beebe Wilder’s book “Pleasures and Problems of a Rock Garden” written in 1938;  she had inherited it from her gardener father.  I quote from her chapter “The Steadfast Sedum”:  “No stonecrop, we are given to understand, would have the heart to blast our budding enthusiasms by refusing to live; any soil will suit them, any situation, and they increase at a rate unknown to other rock plants.  Pin our faith to sedums, and avoid despair.”  I took her advice when ever possible.  She wrote about rock gardening with such great enthusiasm.  Phlox subulata, she writes, has “radiant color, rich fragrance, and almost universal amicability”.  Who would not want to grow that? I about wore that book out, as I read for the pleasure of her writing, and I read again for her instruction and encouragement.  I loved the sedums sight unseen-they were going to help me have a garden.

Some thirty years later, I am still interested in this idea of success and enthusiasm.  No one can be enthused about dead or near dead plants. Or a groundcover bed overrun with quack grass.  In some cases, I am unable to intervene; who knows what people do with their plants when I am not looking.  But anyone who wishes to grow a garden, or redo a landscape, or plant some pots, has the ability to help themselves.  Nurseries put tags in their pots of plants; more than likely someone works there who gardens at home.  My very first gardening job was at a place where I bought iris and daylillies by the trunkload. My ideas of a vacation is visiting a nursery.  I am possessed and obsessed by gardening.  Lacking this, trees come with planting instructions. There are books. There is the encyclopedia interneta. Every gardener knows these things; what can be much tougher is figuring out who you are. That will tell you what kind of gardener you might become, should you hope and plan to.  Plan for success, and work hard.  You’ll be a better gardener for it.