Brown

Unless we are talking about compost, brown in the summer landscape is usually a sign of trouble.  Brown grass is grass in need of rain.  That cinnamon orange color means the yew is stone cold dead.  Burnt brown leaves on a shade tree can mean a lot of things-none of them good.  Brown blotches on the maple tree leaves and roses-a fungus at work.  But there are some brown foliaged plants that are quite handsome.  Having planted my pots at home with color loud enough to make some people wince, I decided maybe a quieter year was in order.    

Pairing the brown vine with silvery grey green seemed like a moody choice.  At first, it even seemed crabby.  But it did not take long for me to fall for it.  This is the best part of gardening with containers-the opportunity to try something new.  I have has these Italian terra cotta urns a long time.  That goat man is a feature of this pot; the blue sedum in front will never obscure that face.  The silver dichondra grows long.  By the end of the summer, it will reach the ground.  The leaves are amazingly shiny.  That surface is a good textural contrast to the felted leaves of the dusty miller.     

The potato vine references the color of the Italian clay. A variety of grey foliaged plants, including Victorian rosemary, sage, variegated licorice, and variegated thyme are talking quietly amongst themselves about texture and form.

The red-brown foliaged hibiscus grows tall and wide.  By summer’s end, it will make a wall of its own at the end of the terrace.  The leaves of pink polka dot plant are green, splashed with pink.  From a distance they look brownish.  The blue flapjack kalanchoe in the small pot is not a grey foliaged plant, but the color harmonizes well with grey.  

A variegated lavender and variegated sedum has the same blue green look as the kalanchoe.  The variegated centerpiece whose name I do not know had decidedly brown stems-a subtle feature that pleases me.  The carex frosted curls is as graceful as can be.

My antique Italian olive jar is home to an olive tree Rob bought me at a nursery in Austin Texas.  This is its first summer outdoors-I usually keep it in the shop greenhouse.  It must be happy-it is growing.  The ruff of santolina adds a little substantive transition between the tree and its pot.  I greatly like how these plantings harmonize with the color of the brick, the furniture, and the old decking.  This has been a fairly easy planting to look after, as all of these plants are drought resistant.   

I am growing two of what I call fancy leaved begonias.  The escargot begonia looks brown, or green, or grey, depending on the light and time of day.  The pepperomias on either side are a dark steely grey.  Though I am a fan of pepperomias in general, I have always shied away from this one.  Some plants are of a color that is hard to use.  I am so glad that this pepperomia and this escargot begonia found each other.  The white arrow leaved caladiums make the dark colors read clearly.  A green backdrop would make the colors of the foreground plants look muddy.  The silver leaved begonia has grown considerably in just 2 months.  The underplanting of green tropical ferns disguise those begonia legs.  So far, so good with these.  I am very careful to keep them as dry as possible, which helps avoid rot and fungus. 

In the driveway, the chocolate coleus makes a very strong statement.  I like it better than anything else I have ever planted in front of this wall.  As this garden is primarily viewed from away and above, a little white in the form of mandevillea, petunias, euphorbia Diamond Frost and 3D osteos keeps things lively.  

The colorblaze Velvet mocha coleus I would use again.  It is a very willing grower.  The color is clear and rich, and does not fade.  It makes a very handsome annual hedge.   

I will be interested to see if the 3D osteospermum come back into bloom in the fall.  But for their stubbornly bushy and mostly green state, I am enjoying what is going on here.  These colors look great with the brown of the driveway brick, and the yellow brown stone walls. 


These bits of brown in the garden-I like them.

Monday Opinion: The Dreaded Gaposis

Gaposis?  Though it isn’t a real word, it describes a spot I’ve been in all too many times.  It  is not too tough to figure out what it means.  A gap is an opening, or space.  Does not everyone remember that look, having lost a front baby tooth?  So embarrasing, that gap.  The Cumberland Gap is a naturally existing  passage way through the Cumberland mountains.  This deep sloping ravine, improved upon by pioneering Americans,  was the opening in the southern Appalachian mountains that permitted travel.  A gap can also refer to an interruption in a thought or design, a breach in a wall, a missing verb, or a miscalculation.  A gap is an obvious and conspicuous imbalance.  All this-from an online dictionary. The suffix -osis is usually found at the end of a noun.  Osis refers to a process, or state.  Metamorphosis-the process of changing from one form to another.

My imaginary word gaposis refers to a missing piece, a lack of continuity that results in empty, inexplicable,  unproductive, or unbalanced exchange.  or space.    A gaposis in one’s chain of thought means that a thought not clearly expressed might not be understood.  A gaposis in a design interrupts the intended rhythm.  A dead lavender in a lavender hedge is a gaposis.  It is a clear sign that something is missing.  That gap subtracts from the beauty of the remaining plants. Continuity which is abruptly breached by some unforeseen gap detracts from the overall fluidity effectiveness of an argument, an essay, a landscape plan, a sea wall, an idea;  blips-have you not had them? 

Routinely I have clients ask me questions I cannot answer.  I admit the gaposis in my knowledge, but assure them I will try to find the answer.  Some questions have no answer.  If a client wants me to promise that the Maureen tulips will be in full bloom the day her daughter gets married, I won’t.  But I will tell her I won’t let her go over the cliff and into the gap alone.  There needs to be a plan B in place.  There are gaps in my knowledge of the history of landscape design.  There are gaps in my knowledge of horticulture.  There are gaps all over my landscape.    

It is reasonable for my clients to assume I am educated in regards to good planting practices, horticulture, and design.  Anything and everything I learn about the history of landscape and garden design, the identity and cultivation of plants makes me a better designer.  I buy books, and read them.  I hope everything that I read, and my experience makes for as gaposis free as possible client experience.  Any bill that goes out from my office details the work – start to finish.  The genus and species of every plant we plant-detailed, and spelled right.  No gaps.

In my opinion, the word and the meaning of gaposis needs to be introduced to the popular landscape design vernacular.  Unattended gaps should worry any design professional.  It is as important to see what is missing as it is to edit.  For those of you gardeners who garden on your own, make sure your design has purpose, and logic.  A landscape space that flows is gap free.      

Every gap can be filled with knowledge and experience.  Until the next new gap comes along, that is.     

 

At A Glance: Plants And Planters

steel planter

shade container plantings

vintage French wine barrel

Italian terra cotta pot and plinth

ridged concrete pot

lantana on standard

Italian terrra cotta

ribbed concrete bowl planter

limestone urn

limestone urn

terra cotta basketweave box

wollemi pine

terra cotta long tom

terra cotta planters

steel boxes

terra cotta planters

terra cotta boxes

 

Sun Parasol Mandevilleas

white mandevillea

The family of plants known as dogbane includes a genus of very handsome plants known as mandevillea.  Mandevillea is a vining plant native to tropical climes-in central and South America.   Michigan in no way resembles the tropics, but this vine is willing to perform here during the summer.  Older forms of mandevillea, including the cultivar Alice du Pont, regrettably, are magnets for both insects and disease.  In 2003, Suntory Flowers Ltd in Japan released a new series of mandevillea called Sun Parasol.  Their breeding efforts produced plants with great vigor and disease resistance.  Their near continuous bloom and ease of cultivation is as attractive as the flowers themselves.    

mandevillea vine

Mandevilleas do require some sort of support to climb.  This does not have to be fancy, since a well grown vine completely cover a pole, wire or trellis in short order. The vines do not attach themselves to a support, they wind around it. I have on occasion planted small mandevilleas as trailers in containers. Their natural inclination to curl gives them a very lively and wired appearance in a pot.    

parasol white mandevillea

All six containers in the front of the shop have white mandevillea as their centerpiece.  Additionally, the windowboxes at the shop are framed by white mandevillea vines.   That decision was made long before the weather warmed up enough to plant. A cool and rainy summer would not have been so friendly to my choice.  Mandevillea loves hot weather-the hotter, the better.  They also like to be kept on the dry side.  This summer-a perfect summer for them.

growing mandevillea

Mandevilleas only bloom on every third set of leaves.  This means the look of the leaves is every bit as important as the flowers.  The dark green, glossy, and healthy foliage is beautiful in its own right.  My Jeannie le Joie climbing roses are a dream come true in the spring, but the foliage right now is nothing much to look at.         

giant pink mandevillea

This week I have been catching up some of the plantings I did in May.  I was happily surprised to see that every mandevillea we planted was growing strong.  If I plant mandevillea as a centerpiece in a pot, I gradually remove its bottom leaves. Layering plants in a container requires some grooming, so one layer does not shade the other.  

giant pink mandevillea

The dahlias in these pots are healthy and strong, but their peak bloom season will come in the fall.  Of course the petunias have revelled in our heat just as much as the mandevillea.  This mandevillea variety is simply known as Giant Pink.

4 10′ natural bamboo stakes provide support for the vine.  We wind individual tendrils around each of the stakes, and tie them up with flexible garden tie.  If new tendrils sprout from the base, or loose their grip on the pole, we may provide more ties. The Surfinia sky blue petunia in this pot-another outstanding annual cultivar bred by Suntory Flowers.  

Red flowered mandevillea is an intense and deep crimson red.  No so many summer flowering plants sport this color, but the Caliente deep red geraniums in this container come close.  This vine is supported by 4  1/4″ diameter steel poles.  The part of the pole that goes in the ground is straight.  The upper part of the pole angles out slightly.  We make these poles to mimic the natural growth of the plant.  Once the vines reach the top, they can be left to their own devices.


What the small flowered cultivars lack in flower size, they make up for in sheer numbers.  In another few weeks, these vines will be completely covered with flowers.  Though I primarily use them in containers, they can be equally effective planted in the ground near a light post, railing, or fence. 

The large flowered mandevilleas are slower to come into bloom than the smaller flowered cultivars, but if the warm season is long enough, they will catch up. Given how difficult our summer season has been, I really appreciate the breeding that has made this plant weather tolerant, florifierous, disease resistant, and easy to grow.   

 

This is the hottest spot of any spot I garden.  A stone terrace and brick wall facing south makes this terrace feel like the desert on a hot day.  I see no signs of stress here whatsoever. 

Mandevilleas are not tough to overwinter.  The need a spot which does not dip much below 40 degrees.  They will drop some leaves when brought in.  I water them on occasion over the winter-not much.  I do cut them back, but not much.  They will need those stems to get going again in the spring.