Tag Archives: Yarrow

Yarrow: Here today…

12 Jul

Sometimes, gardening is not about what you put in to the earth, but what you take out. I move plants around if I think they would look better (or grow better) elsewhere.  And sometimes, only a few times in my gardening life, I have had to give up on a plant and tear it out completely because it won’t work anywhere. I hate to do it. But not quite as much as I would hate not doing it.

I wrote about Yarrow before, most notably in Lessons Learned from 2011. Yarrow has many good qualities. It blooms for a long time and when it is at its peak, it is glorious:

But Yarrow does not fade softly into the night. It attempts to hold on to its former glory as long as possible and then it collapses into a ungainly heap, with stalks splayed open:

  

This is the point at which I lop off all the spent blooms and cut the plant way back–simply because I cannot abide the messiness.  Is it possible to be a gardener who likes orderly chaos?

So I have come to a decision.  I have Yarrows in Garden 1 (G1) and Garden 3 (G3).  G1 is a very full flower bed, and the plants surrounding the Yarrow help hold  it up and then take over the space it vacates after I decapitate it. For that reason, Yarrow can stay in G1.  But in G3, the two Yarrow plants are on their own; no supporting cast can help them look better. So out they will go in a couple of months, to be replaced by something with a bit more backbone next year.

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Tall, Colorful, and Handsome

5 Jul

In an earlier post, I included a photo of Garden 2 (G2) in 2011. Here is a photo of G2 last month:

As you can see, G2 has exploded. The focal plant, Crape Myrtle (Siren Red) is now well over fence height, with the Porcupine Grass on either side towering more than 6′. Ultimately, the Crape Myrtle will be taller than the Porcupine Grass; I just hope it doesn’t get suffocated before it gets there. A recurring lesson: check the spread (width) of your plants before planting them.  I only had eyes for height; width wasn’t really a consideration. I was looking for tall, colorful, and handsome, and in some cases ended up with fat and jolly instead. But it’s hard to be upset with a happy plant.

The new Gauras (Passionate Rainbow) on both sides in the front filled in quite nicely, but have yet to bloom. I suspect they will not this year. Maybe I am fated to not have Gauras, though I love them. But the yellow Euphorbia is still pulling its weight, as it has been since March. And new this year are two Azaleas–the two lighter green plants at the far left- and right-hand sides of the photo, just below fence level. I planted them in April, and am already fairly certain they are getting too much sun, so a relocation may be in the works. Another lesson worth repeating from 2011: don’t be afraid to move plants around. Of course, it would be best not to do it at high noon in 100+ degree weather (of the kind we have been experiencing lately); even the hardiest plant would have a rough time under those conditions. In fact, I can’t blame them. I’d wilt, too, if I were unceremoniously dumped into a hot hole with the sun beating down on my head. So I will keep my eye on the azaleas  and move them if needed–on a cooler, overcast day when rain is predicted.

I leave you with a couple other photos of the garden from June: a corner of Garden 1 (G1) featuring some pink and orange Echinacea, as well as Rudbeckia Giant Coneflower, which is stunningly tall, colorful, and handsome, and a total bird magnet.

And Garden 3 (G3) looking down toward G2, with the coppery Hibiscus and crimson-colored Yarrow in the foreground, and orange Butterfly Weed by the tree. Don’t be fooled by the Yarrow, however. It is proving to be all show and no substance. More on that soon.

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2011: Lessons Learned from the Garden

21 Jun

When it comes to gardening, I learn as I go. In 2011, I learned some valuable lessons:

  1. Yarrow gets big and bushy and then it starts to fall open, exposing its barer, unattractive core. Of course, this could be due to the fact that perhaps one is supposed to stake Yarrow. But I am not about to start staking my plants. Harsh, I know — but when you don’t have a lot of time to garden, it comes down to survival of the fittest, not support for the floppiest. For this reason, Yarrow was on my do-not-resuscitate list. Actually, it earned a spot on my get-rid-of list, not only because of its spineless character, but also because when it fades, it doesn’t fade nicely. When I could no longer bear to look at it, I leveled it. And lo and behold, it bloomed again. For that act of bravery, it earned a reprieve. But I have my eye on it.
  2. Some plants, such as Asters, are space hogs.  Of course, had I paid more attention to info about plant spread, rather than just plant height, I might have realized this beforehand. This oversight on my part has caused some problems elsewhere in the garden, and I suspect I will be trimming or moving (or removing) plants in years to come for this very reason. As an example, Montauk Daisy is also a remarkable grower, and within one year, the two daisies I planted completely overtook the poor Asiatic Lilies in front of them, like a mother hen atop her eggs. The lilies did not survive the experience. The daisies are now on my watch list. As for the Asters, two of them had to go, and they did, in Spring 2012.
  3. Gaura (Belleza Dark Pink) did not survive the winter. All six plants died. I was willing to give them one more chance and plant them again, but I couldn’t find the same variety. Instead, I’ve planted Gaura (Passionate Rainbow), which caught my eye because of its wonderful foliage; you can see it here in the foreground (note the bushy green Montauk Daisy in the back). If this new Gaura does not survive, that’s it — I will move on to something hardier.
  4. Beware of hubris. A couple of my tulips did not come up in 2012. Those miserable squirrels (see the bottom of this post) must have figured out how to get them. But my squirrel-proof bird feeder gives them pause. Actually, it doesn’t; they just get the seeds that fall to the ground. Miserable squirrels.
  5. Marc Chagall said, “All colors are the friends of their neighbors and the lovers of their opposites.” But some flowers in my garden in 2011 just did not go well with their neighbors. They may have been friends, but they weren’t a love match. So I moved them. This is a lesson I learned a while ago — if you aren’t happy with a particular combination of flowers, if the colors don’t sing together, move things around. If the plants are hardy, they will be back next year. Otherwise, they shouldn’t be in the garden.
  6. Final lesson is one concerning dogs and gardens, but as there are as of yet no solutions to that particular problem, I will simply leave you with a photo of the two culprits:

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