Some plants provide entertainment for the whole season and others just don’t and I sometimes have to try very hard to remember why we give clunkers space in the gardens. Campanula lactiflora or Milky bellflower is one of those plants – winner of the Most Likely to Leave the Party Early superlative. We have a sizable clump in a prominent spot right at the corner of the North Garden horseshoe and there’s no doubt that its reaching french-blue blooms get plenty of comments and compliments at the end of June and a little bit into July. But as soon as the flowers shrivel and turn brown from the top down, the foliage starts to go south too and that’s why I think it’s a clunker – and a party pooper.

Last week Gail and I shared our annual indecision over whether it’s better to leave the dried and skrunky sticks so at least it looks like there was a there there versus cutting it back, leaving a giant hole. We always opt to cut it back. What would you do? Right next to that clump, in party-on contrast, is another enormous clump of a plant that also only blooms for a nanosecond in June but hangs out in the garden telling jokes all season long. Is there anything better than Baptisia australis (False indigo) with its sturdy ever-blue foliage and dramatic black seed pods? Actually, I’m seriously asking because I would love to take out the campanula and replace it with something else that will stay to the end in bloom and out. What can you recommend that’s around 3-4′ tall with a blue or yellow flower that blooms in late June and has good looking foliage from May to at least October — besides amsonia?

I think there must be a place for the introverted campanula. I don’t want to rule it out entirely because the blooms are such a sublime color. But it’s the sort of plant that requires careful placement to ensure that it’s completely hidden by something else by the middle of July. (Unfortunately ours is not only not hidden but fronted by an equally disastrous and hole producing blighted peony…) But if there’s another plant in the world with extrovert virtues that include a long season of interest like baptisia (and amsonia), I’d trade the campanula (and the peony) for it in a nanosecond.

Who’s the life of the party in your garden? Do you have any poopers?

It could happen to anyone. Even the “professionals” get it a little bit wrong sometimes … sometimes in a pretty big way. Last week when I discovered a rather substantial error in mistaken identity that Gail and I made, I swore that I wasn’t going to tell a soul. It was too embarrassing. It seemed like everywhere I looked another wrong plant was about to bloom in the North Garden. I kept pulling them out and stuffing them deeply into the weed bag while looking guiltily over my shoulder in case anyone saw. I was pretty mortified. But then today, when I was still finding clumps of mistake and Lilah turned it into an I-Spy game, I found it much more hilarious and thought you might get a chuckle out of it too.

I’m sure it could happen to anyone. This spring, in our annual effort to freshen and improve the North Garden, Gail and I moved several perennials from the Display Garden including a couple dozen divisions of Echinacea purpurea. We did this pretty early in the season – I can tell you that it was Monday, April 27th because I wrote in the calendar, “Gail and I moved echinaceas from DG to NG” – and on that date they were just minuscule clumps of pointed basal leaves and roots. Well. It turns out that some of them weren’t echinaceas at all. Neither of us has a memory of any rudbeckia in with the echinacea in the Display Garden but I just yanked an easy dozen Black-eyed Susans (Rudbecka fulgida) out of the North Garden. We did introduce a couple of new colors into that garden this year but school bus-yellow, as one of our good friends describes it, is definitely not one of them.

The good news is that the garden is really full and it’s impossible to see where any of these plants came out. As a matter of fact, that many echinaceas might have been too many – but we won’t know that until we maybe try again next year. Meanwhile, I feel slightly less idiotic since discovering that E. purpurea was once identified as R. purpurea and our mistake was an honest one. And yet…

It could happen to anyone – couldn’t it?

As gaps go, this wasn’t a bad one in my book. Just now I seem to prefer a garden in budded transition – I think it satisfies my need for a glass is half full optimistic outlook (which may be followed all too closely by the half empty pessimism as soon as the buds open and I begin to mourn their passing). And just as the gap started to close on its own in the North Garden, we started planting annuals to help fill it up. Placing annuals is a mental toughness test for Gail and me – tempers can flare, frustration ensues, ennui sets in. Every year we have to relearn how to make the soup with “too many cooks” but the truth of the matter is we’re dependent on each other and wouldn’t want to attempt it alone. So we hemmed and hawed and placed and planted annuals (we couldn’t have done that without the volunteers!) in the annual pockets vacated by the tulips last week and in other open slivers of ground. And it will be beautiful. I’m especially proud of a little coup – a new color in the garden. We placed annuals in the Rose Garden the same morning and a tiny dahlia ordered for the Rose was switched at the last minute to the North. After all, what is a more divine complement to the prevailing french blue-y purples than a delicious apricot orange? We’re only a little nervous that it could look vile with all the pinks…

Here are a few of the May gap perennials in bloom just this week.

- Isn’t this the most OMG! iris? I swear I have never caught this bloom before and have no identification for it.  All I know is it’s one of Julie Morris’ favorites and I always wondered why.

Is your May gap filling up? Have you started planting annuals? Are you feeling pretty optimistic about it all?

After the tulips have gone by and before … everything else starts up in the North Garden, we cross The May Gap. It’s almost as if the garden is taking one last deep inhale before singing the high note of early summer – a note that sustains at least until … The July Gap. Gail and I annually focus at least 73% of the sum total of our garden design energy on creating and maintaining the look of peak bloom in that garden throughout the growing season but we are thwarted by late May. According to Gail, it was my predecessor, Sheila, who coined the phrase – probably with a sigh of resignation. There must be something that would bridge it. Perhaps we could tuck in cool season annuals – if we weren’t so consumed with moving and planting perennials in all the other gardens… Perhaps there are 3 or 4 early early blooming perennials we just haven’t thought of yet – that don’t take up too much room or are otherwise handsome for the rest of the season. Do you have any suggestions?

But just because the North Garden is on the quiet side doesn’t mean the rest of the property isn’t shouting out. Even though I’m here everyday to witness the transformation, I’m still amazed that -all of a sudden- it’s definitely fully late spring already – I would even call it early summer since Memorial Day is right around the corner. If you haven’t come to see the dove tree (Davidia involucrata) yet, ahem… what are you waiting for? It might not be as floriferous as last year but it’s still a beautiful beautiful thing. The empress trees (Paulownia tomentosa) are starting to scent the air with ode de cough syrup – good thing the blooms are gorgeous candelabras or I might not like them at all. And the tulip tree (Liriodendron tulipfera) buds will be open any day – I’m determined to catch them this year. Here is more evidence of visit worthy vistas:

And there are other May transformations around the property as well: New trees and shrubs planted, sculpture installed and gardens in the process of renewal. Every gardener knows there’s no lull now in the workload and not enough time in the day to accomplish everything on the list. Although we’ll switch gears next week from planting perennials to annuals, we can’t lose any speed. But if I happen to go quiet and miss a post or two now and then, you could call it The May Gap and know I’ll be gathering breath (and pictures) for a big shout.

Do you and your garden bridge The May Gap?

For the next few weeks Gail and I will plant, divide and move perennials in any kind of weather short of a monsoon-style downpour but we both had to agree that, even though we are Spring-sun junkies like most people, yesterday’s weather was perfect.  Overcast, spitting rain here and there, somewhere in the 50’s or low 60’s – the plants hardly noticed that they were being messed with and we warmed up as we worked. And the weather for the rest of the week looks ideal for a stress-free settling in. With rain and cloud-cover, plants can concentrate on repairing roots rather than urgently putting on green growth and photosynthesizing (and wilting from the exertion). It’s perfect weather for garden gazing and photography too – gray skies make colors pop. As usual, hover over for captions and click on for larger view.

We picked up where we left off last October when we rearranged the furniture in the North Garden, and took out a few more Phlox paniculata ‘David’ and added in our favorite (OK, my favorite) Phlox paniculata ‘Natural Feelings’. We replaced the standard pink Japanese anemone with white, early flowering Anemone ‘Honorine Jobert’. We tucked in a few sweet flag (Acorus calamus ‘Variegatus’) for some bright spears to break up the monotony of a predominantly billowy garden. And we plucked out a few of the front row catmints (Calamintha nepeta) and replaced them with a 12″ speedwell (Veronica ‘Twilight’) that we have high hopes for.  And everything we took out (aside from the potentially mildewy phlox) will be replanted in another garden. Gail calls it “Musical Plants” and we do a different version of that cake walk every year. There’s nothing like moving boring old perennials to another garden to rejuvenate our interest in them. Do you do that too? (- Do you ever move them to a friend’s garden and then want them back again?)

When I decided on the title for this post it occurred to me to mention conditioning flowers for arranging. Our volunteer flower arrangers are starting work this week and tomorrow Gail or I will cut tulips for Terri who is leading the pack. (Once or twice over the course of the season, each volunteer arranger will make two arrangements for the house with flowers and foliage we cut from the grounds.) Tulips are pretty easy as cut flowers go: Cut them before they’ve opened and place in plenty of water with a leaf or two still attached. They’ll keep growing in the vase and according to Garden to Vase: Growing and Using Your Own Cut Flowers by Linda Beutler, they prefer sugary water to bleachy and should last 10 days. My favorite trick for keeping the stems straight is to drop a penny in the vase – but sometimes a graceful flop is a lovely development. Do you cut your tulips or leave them in the garden?

The weather has been so mild this past week that we couldn’t help but be outside cleaning up – about two weeks ahead of last year.  And I know we’re not alone – it seems like everybody has been out, raring to go as if we’ve all had a wicked case of cabin fever.  It really is amazing how balmy and warm the 40’s and 50’s can feel when the sun is at just the right angle.  Two groups of volunteers came in to cut back and rake out the Display Garden and the North Garden and today, our one gray day, Gail and I worked on the dry shade bed by the Moongate. To me there’s almost nothing else as gratifying as revealing hidden growth with a gentle raking or a snippage of old foliage.  In the Display Bed we discovered a carpet of Teasel seedlings; in the North we uncovered the velvety beginnings of Lady’s mantle (Alchemilla mollis); and in the dry shade bed we found some tiny daffodils nearly ready to bloom under the Lily turf (Liriope) straps.  Here is a partial list of the other plants we cut way back this week:  grasses (except the Stipa), echinacea, chrysanthemum, sage, nepeta, hakonechloa, Siberian iris, epimedium, geranium and some clematis (careful – there are a few to not cut back…).  I know I’m forgetting some. If you have questions about anything to cut or not to cut back, feel free to leave a comment.

Everything changes so quickly in a few warm days.  It’s not just us gardeners who are all of a sudden out and about, but the entire landscape is taking the cue to get up and out too – just in time for the official start (tomorrow, is it?).  And if we don’t take a minute to notice it starting now, we’ll miss the transition altogether and end up in June wondering what the heck happened to spring.  I can’t deny that this is my favorite time of year.  I am such a new-growth-on-plants junkie that I will give any emerging leaf my undivided attention (this could explain my addiction to houseplants…) and no matter how busy I am,  I don’t want to miss a single one.  So in between spring chores I try to make note of the so-subtle additions of color washes to the sepia landscape, listen to the increasing cacophony of bird voices and keep my eyes peeled for anything new.

Gail and I finished up today just before the … hail.  Of course we always worry a little about taking away all of the plants’ lovely leafy insulation, but it’s time and they will be fine.  Have you done your cut back, clean out yet?  Are you keeping a mental or actual log of the signals of spring?

I’ve heard Dr. Allan Armitage speak a couple of times now (both times at New England Grows) and he could probably say the same thing over and over again (he may well have) and I’d probably hear something completely different and be endlessly entertained each time.  His topic this year was “New and Useful Perennials for the Northeast”.  He endeavored to convince his audience of green industry professionals to make life a little easier for customers and clients when it comes to choosing the best plants for their garden.  He used his daughter Heather as an example of someone who not only isn’t interested in learning 1000 Latin names (we’ve probably all read his post about using common names on Garden Rant) but also doesn’t want to have to choose from 65 coneflowers when she goes to her local nursery.  –That’s how many images of echinaceas Dr. Armitage has available so far on his images database website.  Heather just wants to know which one is “the best” and she’ll happily buy it for her garden.

I happen to think he’s absolutely right.  Pretty much.  Mostly.   I know what I want (some of the time) and will still leave a nursery empty handed if I’ve been overwhelmed by choices.  Here at Blithewold we’ve been trying to make those decisions easier by trying as much as we can so that we’ll know, and you’ll know when you visit, what works and what doesn’t in this area.  The year I started working here was a heuchera year.  Gail and my predecessor Sheila had planted a dozen – at least – of them in trial.  And unfortunately over the next couple-three years we didn’t find a keeper among them so we let them go as we changed the gardens.  Five years later, there are a few (hundred?) more choices available.  The breeders will never stop breeding – who’d want them to stop? And we might be ready to give heucheras another go.

The flip side is when we find something that works, something that we love, something that we praise to the skies and then discover that no one is actually selling it.  We love Phlox paniculata ‘Natural Feelings’ because it’s mildew free, it blooms for a month and it’s a perfect height and an interesting color.  I guess we were the only ones who felt that way about it or it would be lined up with ‘David’ and ‘Peppermint Twist’ and 10 others at every garden center.  Same thing with Rosa ‘Morning Has Broken’.  If only there were a way to convince the growers and nurseries to sell exactly what we think is the very best…

What’s your opinion?  When you go to a nursery do you want to see an acre of roses or do you want to choose from the 12 or so that have been determined to be the best for your region?

Gail and I look at the North Garden all summer with very critical eyes and every year by this time we’re like discontented apartment dwellers – desperate to clear the clutter and rearrange the furniture.   The North Garden is a kind of living room (pun intended, of course) at Blithewold – or a chapel on most weekends – and we try very hard to keep it looking like it’s in peak bloom all season.  And instead, like any garden, it goes through phases of spectacular and fades of quiet like the “May gap” and “July lull”, for instance.  And every year we try new annuals, and every year we search for a perfect new perennial, and every year we have “had it!” with some of the old ones.  (You have to hear Gail say it with emPHAsis and a roll of the eyes.)

We have both “had it!” with the Phlox (Phlox paniculata ‘David’) which was mildewier than ever this year – at least until we threatened it with expulsion in July and it rebloomed gangbusters and clean in September.  I have “had it!” with the monster daylilies whose suffocating foliage eclipses the few weeks of bloom in my mind.  (Plus, truth be told, I’m not wild about having to come in to deadhead them on weekends.)  And Gail has “had it!” with some of the iris which I have never managed to capture in a picture because they’re in bloom for all of about a week and a half and I miss them.

Fall is a perfect time to do some spring cleaning – perennials that have been cut back are much easier to divide and will focus energy on root growth as they settle in.  For the past couple of days Gail and I have braved high winds and cold fingers to divide phlox, iris and daylilies and do a little moving and removing.   We haven’t taken out all of anything but we we’ve made some space for new ideas.  — And tulips!  A few volunteers will come in tomorrow for one last push to plant 640 tulips in the North Garden – a bigger show than ever.  In August, Gail and Lilah made the final selection of Apricot Beauty, Amazone, Formosa, Cistula, Dreaming Maid and Black Hero.  Should be a beautiful beginning to a brand new season in the North Garden.

Do you go through your garden in the fall to clear the clutter and rearrange the furniture?  Do you have a garden or beds that you try to keep in a peaking succession of bloom?  – And what is your success?

A few typical October flowers opened just in time for bloom day today so without further ado, here are the Chrysanthemums or are they Dendranthema?  Whatever their name is, the ‘Sheffield Pink’ (left) never fails to make me want to stop and memorize that color and I love these mystery deep pinks in the North Garden (right) so much that I’m thinking of dividing them and spreading the love through the beds.  None of us remembers planting them so we’ve blamed/thanked a wedding planner from a few years back who must have thought the North Garden needed a little hit of a late deep color.  I think he/she was quite right.

Here is a late bloomer that I think is less common perhaps because, alas, for us it is a tender perennial.  But I think Plectranthus fruticosa, if you can find it, is well worth making room for.  All season long it garnered compliments for its striking two-toned leaves and now that it’s blooming it looks positively lit from within and everyone wants one or twenty.

Salvia uliginosa has been blooming since, oh I don’t know – July, maybe?  But I think it is worthy of October Bloom Day because its color has recently changed dramatically from a cerulean sky to closer to cobalt.  And to overhear the discussions in the garden, it’s as if everyone is noticing it for the very first time.  We will try to keep the Display Garden bed with these late beauties going for as long as possibly possible…

And what would an October Bloom Day post be without some fall color shots?  No matter how gorgeous the bloomers might be, blazing trees and shrubs are the true attractions and distractions of October (I think my car keys should be taken from me – I am too apt to pay attention to any orange tree rather than the road).  Bristol color is still up and coming but it looks like the stars may have aligned for a spizztacular year.

What are your garden’s October attractions and distractions?

Many thanks, as always, to Carol from May Dreams Gardens for hosting Garden Bloggers Bloom Day every month.  Click on the link and on all of the links in her comments to see what’s in bloom right now all over the country and the world.

Look up. Look out. New leaves are turning all over the place! I think if you had the patience you could practically sit and watch the births like chicks hatching. I don’t have that kind of patience – or that kind of time! But I’m glad to have taken a look up and out this morning. The Cut Leaf Full Moon Japanese Maple (Acer japonicum ‘Aconitifolium’) was my morning’s favorite and another that sports puppy fur – which reminds me, no one has shared the answer yet to the fur’s-purpose question from the other day – my guess is still for frost protection.

The Kentucky yellowwood (Cladastrus kentuckea ‘Sweet Shade’) is finely fuzzed too. – What a shape! This one was my favorite.

And the Cinnamon fern (Osmunda cinnamomea) are also nestled in fur muffs and suprisingly tall all of a sudden! (favorite)

The Katsura (Cercidiphylum japonicum) leafed out overnight – the last I looked it only had flowers and now it’s got leaves the size of quarters. (2nd favorite)

And the Butterbur (Petasites japonicus) is giving me fits because its leaves have grown so much in the last week that I’ve had to move the label further out 3 times. (gah. but, of course – it’s a favorite.)

Aside from watching the leaves grow, strolling through a peak daffodil display and chatting with hundreds of visitors (hurrah for a banner week!) we’ve gotten a lot done the last couple of days and even put some stars on our calendar. -We draw big stars and underlines and color it all in highlighter orange when we’ve passed a major milestone. This week it was planting the sweet peas! We grew 17 varieties (including colors like Royal Wedding and April in Paris – in honor of my March) and planted them on a new fence edging Dick’s vegetable garden.

We also spent time with the Rockettes this morning replanting a muddy bank of Astilbe that have been hurling themselves out of the ground in the last couple of years. We could just pick up the clumps with our hands, they had heaved so much. Some clumps managed to survive such a life (fish out of water) and we’ll replace the ones that died with other things that might like a boggy shade bank that occasionally goes bone dry in a drought. (Is there anything?) This is a really good time, by the way, to move, divide or replant perennials – we try to do all our perennial moving before the end of April.

And could it be time already to hoop the peonies??!! Better check yours – I got our hoops on in the North Garden just in time – I didn’t have to smash and yank!

What have you been up to this week? Any milestones?  Turn over any new leaves?