The Home Stretch

I have not kept up as well as I would like with my spring plantings, but I am happy to report that this planting has prospered, and seems to be handling the fall well. I have not been here since late June, so I know this planting has been looked after.  I had the chance to stop by, given a landscape call in the area.  None of the purple dahlias in this mixed annual bed have succumbed to the mildew I have seen everywhere.  I expected nothing less; my client is an afficianado and expert grower of dahlias.  I have no other client that I would saddle with the time and trouble in a planting this extensive with lots of dahlias.  I did lend him a hand; the dahlias are companion planted with silver licorice, cirrus dusty miller, grey plectanthus and silver dichondra.  This supporting cast can hide trouble.     

The windowbox cardoons have grown considerably.  This box was planted with green and silver plants, punctuated by a few flowering plants.  It still represents that intent, going on 4 months later.

The rear yard fountain cistern is surrounded by boxwood-this will be a good look over our long winter.  For the summer, a mix of Euphorbia diamond frost, and white polka dot plant has grown in around that boxwood like a warm stole.  Both of these plants are so airy growing, they do not impact in any way the health of the boxwood.  This is a place that a permanent fixture in this landscape has an interpretation particular to a given season.  Next year, who knows what will take its place.  Given that it is mid September, I am pleased with this healthy and billowy look.  

The rear terrace with a view to that fountain has lots of pots.  The shade is fairly dense.  I usually plant these pots with a green and white scheme.  This year, a little dash of black/purple.  A coleus, a black calocasia, and some wine purple spikes provide a little out of the ordinary interest.  

This was my favorite planting of the season.  I knew this the second I finished it.  The wine spikes usually tapped for the centerpiece of a planting-I planted them on the edge.  The green and white caladiums I knew would round out.  Between the black spikes-a spiky tropical button fern.  It looked great today, with the morning sun filtering through the caladium leaves.  In my opinion, this is a very good looking pot.  The plants did all the work, you know.     

A grouping of pots with individual plantings have for all intents and purposes become a single entity.  The entire group seems to be coexisting peaceably.  I really like how the plants in wild places sort out their differences, and grow in to one another.  The conical boxwood sandwiched in between an explosion of lime coleus and a black calocasia underplanted with inky fingers coleus-this is a good scene.  There is a natural feeling here that contrasts with the stark lines and color of the vintage chaise.    

This intimate grouping of mid-century modern chairs designed by Richard Schultz has leafy company.  I could live here. 

This post needs to acknowledge my client’s passion for dahlias.  He winters over the tubers.  He does not plant them out until late June.  Every year I shrug, sure that they will never come to anything.  Every year, in the late summer, they come roaring skyward.  This very modest patch in a small garden is entirely devoted to dahlias. 

I will confess I buy giant dahlias for him when I see them looking good.  As much as he loves growing them, I can’t resist bringing one home for him.

He grew this gift of a white dinnerplate dahlia to perfection.  He knows what these showgirls require, and he delivers.  The best part-how much he nurtures, respects, and enjoys his garden.  Every inch of his property is taken care of.  He has tomatoes and eggplants on the driveway-thriving in pots.  He has rosemary plants-we winter them for him.  He loves his European ginger, his snakeroot, his hydrangeas, and his hellebores.   He is plain and simple-a gardener.      

Green and white with a dash of purple-this years planting scheme.  Does this mean the dahlia patch has only purple and white dahlias-absolutely not. The dahlia patch is not about a color scheme-it is about a love for dahlias.  Mid September, that patch is thriving.  Every place on his small urban property-thriving.  What does this say to me?  Gardener in residence.

Sunday Opinion: The Changing Of The Season

Every year I tell Buck with great confidence that I will keep my summer season going past Labor Day.  I watch the weather-especially the night temperatures.  I water like crazy-all of my completely root bound containers need water daily.  We just had a 4 day spell of temperatures in the 90’s-one day we soaked the roof boxes twice.  Of course I interpret this to mean that somehow summer will go on into September, at the expense of the fall. 

I have plenty of half baked ideas-this is just one of them.  I know Labor Day formally celebrates the economic and social contributions of people who work.  It is celebrated with speeches, barbeques, picnics, and fireworks.  I love labor day weekend-my neighborhood streets are jammed with cars.  There is music in the air.  My immediate neighbor always has a party.  I get to go to the party, based solely on my proximity.  But labor day also represents the opening day of the fall season.  Kids go back to school.  The night temperatures drop.  My containers may go on another 6 weeks, but the season is already changing.  Those beginning changes are so subtle, it is easy to ignore them.  The days are a little shorter, the nights cooler, the sun not nearly as hot.

We have four seasons in Michigan.  Not just summer and winter-spring, summer, fall, and winter.  Each one lasts about 3 months.  The summer season has been extreme-lots of cold, then rain, then the fierce heat and more rain.  Most of the maples in my neighborhood have been defoilating from fungus for weeks. There is mildew on everything; I started getting calls for fall plantings two weeks ago.  I do not fault the gardeners for this.  There is always something that doesn’t work out. How hard you work, how passionate you are, the amount of time effort and money you spend, has little or nothing to do with success.  I have plantings that I have tried every gambit I can dream up; they can still do poorly, given the right circumstances.  The lime nicotiana I plant on my deck every year with glorious results is completely out of bloom. I can put the entire weight of my experience and interest to a planting that is struggling, and still come up wanting.  That summer is coming to a close can be a very good thing.  I am ready to be relieved of that which just didn’t work out.

This labor keeping up a garden is considerable.  This is a polite way of saying that should you decide to garden, you will have blisters, scratches, bug bites, soaking wet feet, aching muscles, sweat running everywhere, calloused hands, sunbaked arms, and a  A giant amount of sweaty work that every day will threaten to do you in.  Late this afternoon I chopped down the asparagus in between my roses to 12 inches above ground.  This took 2 hours.  I had gobs of debris-all of which I hauled down the steps to the trash.  This may not be the best move for the asparagus, but I have boltonia and white Japanese anemone coming on that I would like to look at. I went on to water 2 new plantings by hand.  I watered all of the pots-I have 26.  At the shop, I have 40 pots, the driveway gardens, and the roof boxes.  I am on duty for that over the holiday.  That the temperature is 59 today-excellent.  My labor day will not be labor free, but it will be manageable.   

Overall, the shop gardens look good-but for the window boxes.  There is too little contrast in leaf forms, and the overall shape is ungainly to my eye.  The mildew is spreading underneath.  Grassshoppers, snails and aphids have been lunching there nonstop.  On the up side, I will not have to deal with them much longer.  My windowbox troubles are about to be eclipsed by the coming of the fall.  A new season means looking forward another chance to interpret the garden.

Had I But Four Square Feet…

Alice Harding, whose book “The Peony” is a classic on the subject of growing peonies once remarked, “Had I but four square feet of ground at my disposal, I would plant a peony in the centre, and proceed to worship.”  My sentiments exactly.  But there are other plants that might make muster in my four square feet.  Most certainly nicotiana would be high on my list.  My three foot square Tuscan box is full of them at this moment, and they are looking good.   Henry Mitchell describes peonies as “that rare combination of fluff and majesty”-nicotiana could not be further from that description.  

The flowers are utterly simple.  A long slender tube fans out at the end into 5 distinctly scalloped lobes.  They look back at me with that guiless and frank signature look.  The nod in the breeze.  Can you tell I really like them?  There are lots of species, hybrids and cultivars; I like them all.  Nicotiana sylvestris grows better than 6 feet tall, always needs staking, and attracts every aphid in the neighborhood-so I rarely grow that. The diminuitive nicotiana langsdorfii is a charmer.  

Perfume purple and Perfume white are lovely.  They seem to maintain that same graceful spacing along the flowering stems as the species nocotiana alata.  Shorter nicotiana, such as the Avalon series, have densely bunched flower heads that lack grace to my eye.   

By far and away, my favorites are nicotiana alata lime, and nicotiana mutabilis.  I like them even better, grown in a mix.  Nicotiana mutabilis grows tall, and also needs staking, but it is worth the trouble.  Hundred of white, pink, and rose pink flowers grow on the same plant.  It is never better for me than it is in September; it will put on incredible growth in the fall.  The tiny flowers are always fluttering over something. 

They are not fond of really hot weather, so I have no idea what will become of this planting. Those that talk weather are saying it will be really hot here for another month.  You wouldn’t think this giant pot would dry out very often, but it is a rare hot day that I do not have to soak the corners.  Do I water parts of container plantings-absolutely.  I did soak it thoroughly this morning, knowing there was a possibility our temperature would hit 100 degrees today.  So I had time to take a long look.    


What else am I growing here?  Pink mandevillea, white angelonia, Persian Queen geranium, white mini petunias, and white variegated trailing plectranthus. I have an event going on here-a nicotiana fest.

Perennial Gardens

 

This client has an older landscape which is truly lovely.  The trees are maturing;  the shrubs are well established.  The property is large, and entirely private.  This boxwood bed featuring a lovely antique sundial we did for her several years ago, but the majority of the landscape was done by someone else. Whomever did the landscape did a great job-I admire most of what I see. 

Her blue hydrangeas are just about the best I have ever seen.  I make it a point to go and see them when they are in bloom-I am always astonished at how heavily and beautifully they bloom.   I plant her pots every year; this is a job I look forward to, as I know the containers will get great care.

See what I mean?  Nothing here to fret over.  I have never planted this hydrangea for anyone, as I have never seen it perform very well.  This is almost enough to make me change my mind.

I am not so much a fan of perennial gardens planted in drifts, unless the garden in question has lots and lots of space.  By this I mean a space 40 by 15 feet, or better in every dimension..  I do not have, nor have I ever had a client with a perennial garden of this size.  The garden I planted at home today Buck says is 30 feet long, by 9 feet deep-small.  Relative to a perennial garden, this antique trough is very small.  Though barely 10 square feet, it is planted with 6 different types of plants, all of which seem to be fairly matched in terms of vigor.

I am poised to tackle what I was not crazy about-her perennial garden.  Tomorrow we will remove and relocate what she has, and replant her perennial border. Given that I just planted a perennial garden at home today, the subject of perennial borders is greatly on my mind.  I am not so much a fan of perennial gardens planted in drifts, unless the garden in question has lots and lots of space.  By this I mean a space 40 by 15 feet, or better.   I do not have, nor have I ever had a client with a perennial garden of this size.  The garden I planted at hme today Buck says is 30 feet long, by 9 feet deep-small.

 My client’s perennial border is not much bigger than mine.  I had some ideas that drove my selection of plants.  The garden is in a spot that only gets visited in the summer.  I eliminated spring flowering perennials.  Drifts of perennials look awkward when the space is constrained.  Meadows-and by this I mean very large spaces covered in perennial plants, are all about drifts.  The giant drifting perennial gardens of Piet Oudolf require lots of space.  A drifting style of planting  implies lots of room.  Most of my clients have relatively small spaces available for perennials.  I need to pick and choose, and edit.  In much the same way as I plant annuals, I like to plant perennials in mixed groups.

 I am sure this garden had other things in it years ago.  Plant vigor is a factor in planting perennial gardens that is too often ignored.  Some plants have great vigor, and will spread like crazy.  I am seeing that vigor here-Big patches of daylilies and a giant stand of astilbe in a washed out color dominated the space.  The Silberian iris in a row-is this a drift?  In any event, these iris are in need of division, and possibly a new home.  A single Annabelle hydrangea looks great-this I will keep. 

More than likely I will alternate planting perennials of similar vigor and height in rows, not drifts.  There will be enough variation in height, texture and color to keep the garden lively.  This also gives me a chance to plant a number of different plants, rather than larger drifts of just a few plants.  Most certainly this garden will require regular maintenance in order to thrive.  Inevitably there will be plants I have chosen that just will not like being where I plant them.  It will take a while to see how my choices work out.  Mother nature gives fairly tough exams-I have flunked more of them than I care to admit to.  Planting a number of varieties is one way of hedging my bets.