It was 44 degrees when I got to work at 7 am this morning. Only the pansies, lettuce, annual phlox, snap peas,and a few others, go for this.  The angelonia, sweet potato vine, New Guineas impatiens, lantana and a whole host of others,  despise it.  Many nurseries sell vegetables early, and then sell them over again after late frosts damage them or kill them.   The cold spring weather is a perennially hot topic for Michigan gardeners. 

Every year’s struggle to get everyone’s flowers planted in a very small time frame,  is all the more complicated by the weather.  The annual flowers we use are definitely not native to Michigan.  Most of them come from warm, even hot tropical regions where the soil is never really cold.  I don’t like to plant any of these plants until the night temperatures are reliably above 50.  It is May 31st today; we have yet to get there. Should you put a finger in the soil today, it will be surprisingly chilly.  Air warms up, and cools off, much more quickly than soil.

I am of the opinion that planting too early stunts the growth of tropical plants.  I have seen impatiens and begonias never recover from too early planting;  I hear regularly “this was not a good year for my impatiens”.  Having a good year with flowers actually depends quite a bit on some good horticulture. People  sabotage their plantings, as they have the option of deciding when to plant. It isn’t the weather; late May cold is a regular feature of our spring.

I often buy early, to get what I want, and hold.  They say delayed gratification is an adult pleasure-but that doesn’t make it easier for me to wait.  Vastly more difficult than waiting, is persuading my clients that they should wait.  I have had occasion to ask a client to sign off on a planting I knew was too early,  and I have planted a few of those gardens twice in one spring.  I don’t like doing this, as its a waste of time and money-never mind that I can’t stand dead plants on my hands when I knew perfectly well how to keep them alive.

This part may be much more intuition than science.  I believe a later planting pays off at the end of the season. By this I may mean a week later. I rarely plant my own annuals before June 15-nothwithstanding those people who think the summer is half over by June 15.  My plants take hold faster, and perform in every way superior to plants put in too early.  I am always taking my pots apart in November, not because the flowers have gone down, but because I am just tired of taking care of them.  I don’t stress my annuals by planting too early, not watering sufficiently, not deadheading, grooming and fertilizing.  I think I have them longer, given this treatment.  I try not to worry my plants with too much of my own nonsense.  Should I plant early, I know the result belongs to me, not the Michigan May weather.

The fact that not all foliage is “green” comes as no surprise to any gardener.  Modern hybridization of plants has  produced some truly unusual leaf coloration.  The numbers of coleus hybrids available has dramatically increased, although the nomenclature is confusing, and some colors go beyond moody to just plain muddy.  This sparkling variety has clear,  brilliant color, and a luxuriant habit of growth.  I do like plants that make me look like a good gardener. �

Even the red and orange coleus varieties seem to have much improved coloration and habit.  Plant hybridizers work very hard.  �

  The toothy leaves of this coleus variety are unique; the lime centers only make the orange seem more orange.  Supremely orange.  �

 This green and white variegated hibiscus is notable for its leaves, rather than its flowers.  The occasional red blooms are a pleasing surprise. A red-stemmed, variegated leaf hibiscus that grows large and vase shaped gets my attention ahead of the big flowered tropical hibiscus.  Why is this?;  see for yourself.  �

This small leaved coleus the color of butterscotch  has a good companion in this tree fern.  Though tree ferns can grow to 18′ tall in New Zealand, a one gallon size plant makes a good show in a container over the course of a Michigan  season. The exotic and unexpected appearance of foliage of another color can create drama and interest in public places.  Who would think a diminutive thread leaf alternanthera could make such a big statement in the same pot with a giant canna?  This is about the good fun that gardening can be. Who knew this pot would grow out better than I thought it could be?

The incredible range of plant material available guarantees that no annual gardener need ever repeat themselves.  It occurs to me that much of what I am able to do depends on the people in my area who grow plants.  They test different things, they make the tried and true  available, they see to it that I am able to work.  They get out of bed on a Sunday at 3am when the heat in a greenhouse goes off.  They are gardeners of a different sort.  They depend on the plants to pay their mortgages, and educate their children.  I support my local growers; I hope you do too. �