Blue hydrangeas are icons of summer in seaside areas along the Mid-Atlantic and New England states. What is summer without them? Well, we are finding out for the first time in decades.
It might be another 30 years before it happens again. However, this year’s washout creates an opportunity to find other hydrangeas that might be even more appealing and better able to withstand an occasional frigid winter.
Mopheads and many lacecap hydrangeas belong to the large leaf or macrophylla species, which has been affected.
Plants with gold foliage have lots of curb appeal and often prove irresistible. Once they are home, however, they can be a challenge to the gardener. Are you looking to make a statement or create harmony with a team player?
Containers are easy, and flower beds, too. Generally, the more color the better. They are both more forgiving than the broader landscape, where trees and shrubs hold sway. When gold and chartreuse foliage is not used judiciously, all too easily the result is a disjointed collection of freaks rather than a garden.
Rooftops covered with plants go back hundreds, if not thousands, of years. In China there is the roof iris, Iris tectorum, so named because it flourishes on sod. In Northern France and England there is an old rural tradition of growing moss, ferns, and hens-and-chicks (or live-forevers) on the roofs of houses, covered entryways, and out-buildings.
There is nothing like being enveloped in a cloud of intense fragrance to jolt you into the here and now. Most of us are not disciplined enough to focus on the moment, but whether in a natural landscape or garden, that is where we ought to be to savor its beauty. Strongly fragrant plants can prod us into engagement with the present.
The Springs artist Margaret Kerr made an enclosed garden at her home and studio overlooking Accabonac Harbor using only plants and elements found in medieval cloistered gardens. Surrounding the house and scattered about the property are the brick carpets for which she is renowned. .
If it’s possible, I think I love my garden best in winter and find it more exciting than in spring. That’s because something is in flower, and most often it is fragrant, nearly every sunny, warm day from Christmas week on. Spring, when everything explodes into flower at once, can be overwhelming. So much is happening that it all becomes a big blur. But in January and February, the garden slows down, and it is easier to appreciate and luxuriate in each of the garden’s treasures.