Thank heavens for red and yellow; I would not want to do without orange in my garden. This picture of an orange dahlia tells the entire story of what happens when red, in this case a very blue or carmine red, gets mixed with yellow.  Fireworks.  Daylilies are a staple source of orange in a perennial garden.  If a daylily is not yellow, there is orange lurking in the petals in one form or another. Even a drift of the subdued daylily Ruffled Apricot can warm the eye from a distance. Orange is visually effective in even the smallest doses;  is it not interesting how easy it is to spot the one lone blooming butterfly weed in the entire field?  Even those who are not big fans of orange in theory can fall for an oriental poppy that color.  Poppies look like they ought to be orange.      

Orange exists in a garden in other forms besides flowers. Interior arborvitae needles turn as rusty orange as this old fountain before they are shed. Iron garden ornament, and terra cotta pots are an excellent source of orange in the garden.  I have had many people tell me their favorite season in Michigan is the fall-and I hear no grumbling about all the orange. What group of plants have you ever seen planted in a terra cotta pot that looked bad as a result of that orange pot?  Orange in big brilliant doses is not for the faint of heart, but a little orange zest never hurt any garden.  

The trim on my house is painted turtle green.  I suppose I chose the color as much for the name as the color.  Olive drab would have been an equally believable name; this planting of solenia orange begonias in a dusty peachy orange Italian terra cotta pot makes that olive paint color come to life.  The variegated licorice makes reference to the bluish green of the begonia foliage; the lime creeping jenny underneath keeps everything up top cooking. 

I did all of my summer flowers in some combination of orange, and carmine, or red-violet.  It did scare the heck out of me once I got everything planted.  I was worried to would be more excitement than I really wanted.  No doubt these warm colors looked good with my yellow/orange stone, and the sandy yellow brick on my house-not to mention the purple/brown brick of my drive.  The one year I planted all white flowers just didn’t work.  Though Howard’s coat color is formally known as red brindle, he is a most handsome orange and white.

Though this Sonic orange New Guinea impatiens flower might make your eyes hurt, I find it easier to use in a garden than a blue red.  I have a client that has been planting orange and white in her garden for many years.  What many thought was eccentric fifteen years ago looked very fashionable and sophisticated this year.  Funny, that. 

Pink and orange together is such a lively and happy combination. Both Emilio Pucci and Lily Pulitzer based  fashion empires on fearlessly friendly color combinations like this.  If I only have the chance to make one point about color, it would be this.  In isolation, a color may not appeal to you.  But the real impact of color is about color relationships.  What colors do for each other is more important than any color itself. It never hurts to take some of what colors you have when shopping for plants.  Whatever your ideas might be about color, let your eyes make the decisions.

A little orange in the garden is a great idea.

Yesterday was the last day for regularly scheduled hours in the shop until March 1.  I still come to work every day, but there is a change in the routine.  I am on an internal, diurnal, noctural, natural, subdural, under the weather schedule.  I am not looking out the window, I am looking in.  I don’t plan much. I put my watch in the drawer. I eat potato chips whenever I feel like it.  My mind wanders, and my hands are itching to make this, try that, hold whatever up to the light. 

I have design projects needing some resolution by spring.  All of them are in my mind; I like to let things cook before I put a pencil to paper. That cooking can take a long time; the long low heat makes for a tender stew with great flavor.  Things surface in no particular order-fine.  My reaction to the gardening season 2010 being in the distant future?  Spring can wait. In December I am still working furiously; this spills over into early January. Long about January 5,  I shift gears.  No more daily lists.  I sleep soundly and long. Were I a bear, I would Dylan Thomas my way resolutely into that good night.  The seasonal life suits me perfectly. I like very very on, and very, very off; I am not a big fan of a daily drip. 

My life changes during my late year streaming.  Do you not admire this lingo coming from an old girl? It so amuses me.  My concept of streaming is more stream of consciousness.  You never know what might float by.  January is time to give time to what surfaces, and see where it takes you.  It is about taking direction from something that hasn’t crossed my mind yet. A new year is firstly about second chances, and more importantly, about the future. The future is our most precious treasure.  As much as the present infuses my life with color, serious discourse, and energy, the future pushes me. My January is all about that future.  Rob is shopping for Detroit Garden Works holiday and spring 2010 as I write.  I have had 130 or so emails from him, loaded with photographs, in the past two days. January is a perfect time to take some ideas, and turn them into a collection for the shop. We talk plenty, seeds get sown , a plan gets buried in some good dirt-something good grows out of this. The winter lays me low; I am a growing girl, no question.  I do the best I can to live good naturedly over the winter.  Making topiary sculpture from natural materials, painting, designing new pots for Branch to build, repainting and rearranging the shop, reading, my spring design projects-I am terribly busy in an aimlessly good way. I need for nothing to be all put together right now. 

At the intersection of Routine Street and Invention Boulevard, there is never any question which route I will take.  Routine Street is at least 8 paved lanes wide, and goes on with nary a twist nor turn for what seems like a lifetime. This is not to say I am not influenced by the work of others-far from it. There are so many talented people out there whose work I truly respect and value. But January life is about turning what influences me inside out and upside down and running it down the block.  If I am able to explain how, and with what materials, and why I have done what I have done, I will. I know I will be moving on to something else today. What I did yesterday does not completely define me.  I would want to be a what will come next girl.  I also believe that if a person can teach, they should. Transmit what they can.  If people listen and try to reproduce my experiments, I am happy for this.  As I think my eye and my sensibility is unique to me, no one could take that from me. I do meet people in various design fields who never seem to veer off what someone else has dreamed up-this is mostly about a lack of confidence, not a lack of imagination. Rarely there will be someone who deliberately claims the work of others as their own; I feel sorry for them.  They have eliminated any possibility of satisfaction from their lives. How miserable a deed, and consequently, how miserable this must feel.

 Invention Blvd is an uncharted and unmarked two track known for its hairpin turns, narrow bridges, wildlife in the road and predictably foggy weather.  Does this not sound like the best fun?  I have written this post in fits and starts over the past two days.  That’s how things work for me, in January.

Last week there was some discussion of a plant pictured in my post on gifts for gardeners. What is it? Though the flowers bear a strong resemblance to kniphofia, this plant is an aloe. 

Grassie Lassie has long thin stiff leaves, barbed all along their edges. I water them once in only a great while. They started blooming a month ago. Peach and yellow bells on long brownish stems-good looking.  Steve thinks it is a Proven Winners selection-maybe so.  I just know I like it. 

Flowers in the winter-what a treat.