A NY FLOWER WOULD BE HARD-PRESSED TO COMPETE with the two most colorful ferns in the garden here, which have been showing off since the first crozier poked through the soil surface in early May and won’t stop till very late fall. No wonder I grow so many Japanese painted ferns and autumn ferns; they make shade gardening look easy, adding heavy doses of purple and silver or coral and gold, respectively, and never asking for so much as a deadheading in return.Japanese painted fern (Athyrium niponicum ‘Pictum’, Zones 5-8) is well-known to most gardeners the last decade, a showy thing with varying proportions and intensities of silvery-gray and purple coloration on its parts.
Depending on your conditions and what it says on the label of the selection you buy, the painted fern will be a foot to 18 inches high and two or three times that wide. They poke through the soil purple, like their midribs (detail, above), and I love every minute of their annual show.
Speaking of labels: I read them, sure, but most of all what I look at in the garden center is the individual plant and how well it displays the promised characteristics.
I bought my best painted ferns (long before there were named selections like ‘Ursula’s Red’) just by eye, taking the best ones off the nursery bench, and each time I divide them I am guaranteed more of the precise genetic material of the parent plants. (My best ones aren’t in the area captured in these photos, but in the underplantings by my oldest magnolia, as you may recall.)
The autumn fern (or autumn shield fern, Zones 5-8 or 9), another Japanese species (Dryopteris erythrosora), was always a very good plant, with bronzy coloring in spring and a lustrous surface to the foliage.
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Living and working in northwestern Oregon, garden designer Wesley Younie is no stranger to dealing with challenging environments. When presented with this garden’s elevation changes, drainage management, and extreme climate conditions, he devised a plan that addresses it all—along with a specific functional wish list from the homeowners. Want to know which plants he used? Here are the plant IDs for this beautiful, sustainable landscape.
Now that October is here, you must be busy with theessential gardening jobs for this autumn month. For most people, this time of the year is especially pleasing because of the cooler nights, warm sunny days, and pretty autumn foliage.
While flowering trees are what you want, drought tolerant trees are what you need. Fortunately, there are a number of drought resistant flowering trees that will adorn your garden while requiring minimal water. These types of plants can form the bones of a water wise landscape.
Previously I have stuck to traditional names for bits of my garden. Veg plot, rockery, orchard (when I feel posh), rose bed, border, hedge and similar names have delineate what and where I was trying to grow.
‘Color Guard’ was brought back from Japan by a man who knows a thing or two about foliage plants, hosta breeder Paul Aden of Long Island (who introduced ‘Sum and Substance,’ for instance, and so many other standouts). Despite the very different swordlike shape, its creamy-yellow-centered leaves are not unlike those of the most dramatically variegated hostas, but the yucca is a creature of sunnier spots.This is a perennial-like shrub for every day, and for gardens in most every zone, or at least Zones 5-10, growing in clumping fashion to 2 to 3 feet across and high. That is, except in spring, when 6-foot-tall stalks erupt with fragrant white bell-shaped flowers. Mine (still in its nursery container) has been showing off despite being “temporarily” plunged into a large pot on my terrace since May. It will
My original piece of Farfugium japonicum ‘Giganteum’ (then known as Ligularia tussilaginea ‘Gigantea’) came many years ago, from a friend at a New York City public garden. Summers, it was lusty and bold, growing mightily in a pot and showing off like crazy. But I could never make the plant completely happy in the offseason, or so I thought, and after torturing it in my house one winter and in my basement (trying to force dormancy) the next, I gave the exhausted creature to a friend with a greenhouse.I kept his likeness here with me, and I guess I pined for him: A mid-century tray I’d bought at at antiques store bore an image of Farfugium, though not to scale. The plant bears ultra-shiny leaves that get to about 15 inches across.When I saw its shining face not long ago in the Plant Delights catalog, which credited the same person I’d got
NOTHING LASTS. I KEEP SAYING IT, reminding myself of this essential fact of every living thing–from the magnolia blossom to the Japanese maple leaves (above) to–yes, that’s right, say it out loud with me–our own human lives.
In March, I outlined tactics–such as making sure things are well-watered before a dip in temperatures–and offered links to detailed frost-minimizing strategies in this story that would be a helpful read if you’re gardening in a blue zone as I am on the current National Weather Service map.This weekend, I pulled out all the stops (and empty pots, tomato cages, bed linens, garden carts, you name it…) like in the slideshow below, and got help to wheel my big potted Japanese maples–whose leaves are very sensitive to frost–back into the barn, where I overwinter them, but had set them free a week ago. Oops.(Click on the first thumbnail to start the slideshow, then toggle from side to slide with the arrow keys on your computer, or using the arrows next to each caption.)Always be sure to remove covers before the sun hits the plants the next day, even if another night of frost or freeze is forecast. Which means out I go before supper to re-cover everything and hope aga