Tag Archives: Crape Myrtle

Fall Foliage

10 Nov

Flowers are fantastic, but foliage can add interest to any garden long after the flowers are gone. Admittedly, my gardening philosophy is very, very basic (roughly on par with my gardening skills), but one element of that philosophy is that every garden needs a diverse range of foliage: different colors, patterns, shapes, and textures. And if you can find a perennial with foliage that changes color in the autumn (or presents you with some other dramatic display, such as plumes), that’s an added bonus.

Here are two plants that have been putting on a show in recent weeks:  Porcupine Grass, with plumes shooting at least 8 feet in the sky  (plus close-up of the plumes) — and Crape Myrtle (Siren Red), whose foliage appears to change color depending on the time of day:

  

  

2010: Garden Phase 1

19 Jun

Some of the very first plants I planted in our new flower beds in the summer of 2010 were NE Asters  (Purple Dome), a Crape Myrtle (Siren Red), two Porcupine Grasses, some Asiatic Lilies (Tiny Dino and Tiny Ghost), a couple Montauk Daisies,  Red Hot Pokers (Flamenco), Echinacea (Red Knee High, Rocky Top Hybrid, Big Sky Sundown) and some daylilies (Baby Darling). After getting them in the ground, I waited to see what would happen. What happened was that that I loved the Porcupine Grass as it grew tall and striped, the Crape Myrtle with its red new-growth foliage and its crimson blooms, and the fact that in late summer, the Asters exploded in masses of bright purple blooms surrounded by buzzing bees that our dog persisted in chasing despite retaliation on the part of the bees. And the Montauk Daisies are so cheerful that I forgave them for being white in a garden that is mean to be bright.

Here’s new-growth foliage on the Crape Myrtle, from this year, with Porcupine Grass in background:

But even with these plants, I was aware that the garden was still fairly bare. So in the fall of 2010, I planted bulbs under the watchful eye of the neighborhood squirrels. Having battled bulb-eating squirrels before, I built impenetrable defenses around my bulbs: I coated them in foul-smelling deer repellent spray before planting them, covered the planted area with chicken wire, added a bit more soil, and topped up with a light layer of mulch, which I sprayed again. It worked — no squirrels got my bulbs. Note: use this method only if you do not ever plan to move the bulbs elsewhere or plant anything else in close proximity to them.  The chicken wire served as a great defense against my own future landscaping plans. But I got the best of the squirrels, so it was a small price to pay to have to pull out the wire cutters a couple of years later.

Next: Phase 2.