Community in clay

After a day and night of heavy rain, the hybrid Petasites (Petasites hybridus) is making its weird emergence from the mud, accompanied by bits of Lysicachia nummularia and Equisetum arvense. This, along with its cousin Petasites japonica, is repeated in various areas of the garden, and is a major theme plant in several communities of competitive plants. The fallen leaves remain in place because these plants are not daunted by a matted leaf cover. And eventually, the leaves will decay and add organic matter to the heavy clay soil.

This is not a particularly appealing time of year, especially after heavy rain, but in a few weeks the foliage cover will form contrasting bands of shape, texture, and color with the adjacent Darmera peltata, Sagittaria latifolia, and Carex muskengumensis. Actually, the word "shape" doesn't describe the visual effect well, which is more one of contrasting, three-dimensional, geometric forms, not exactly "sculptural" in a traditional sense, but metaphorically so.

I know Petasites is considered a radically invasive plant, but not in my garden. The clay appears to put the brakes on; it actually spreads quite slowly. In a conventional garden, I'd avoid it, but at Federal Twist, I need its aggressive, competitive character. Okay, you're hearing it again ... right plant, right place.

Light and shadow

Late Sunday afternoon, the day before the longest day of the year, the play of changing light and shadow makes photography difficult. But it's a glorious time to be in the garden.

Garden Diary: Greening, and plans for the season

Nearing the end of April green is becoming the predominant color in the garden, finally beginning to cover the stubble left from burning and cutting last year's growth. The benefit of leaving the dried detritus of winter will, eventually, be a higher organic content in this mineral, heavy clay soil. It's messy to look at, but once the greening begins, it gradually disappears.

The woodland entrance to the garden above has been waiting for five years now. I've been focusing on development of the wet prairie garden beyond, the stone walls, most recently replacing the wood chip paths with gravel (the one on the left will be graveled this weekend). Other than a few scattered ferns and carex around the edges, this area awaits its future. I still don't know what it wants to be. Should I block the view beyond with taller woodies--willows perhaps, for coppicing? I do intend to extend the mass planting of Petasites in the middle distance back into the grassy area in the foreground, and to add Senecio aureus to start an early spring community when the plants arrive over the next few days.

To the left are the rough stone steps (Argilite, native to the property) up to the raised terrace area at the back (front?) of the house. Perhaps I should explain. The back of our house is the front, fully windowed, opening to the garden. What Americans call the traditional front (facing the road) is a rather blank slate. The house turns its back to the public eye. The internal life of the house, and most of the garden is hidden.

Amazing that this crab apple was planted in the late 1960's. It remains healthy and blooms profusely each spring. Its semi-weeping habit makes a pleasing veil through which to view the more distant garden.

The sitting area on the old bluestone terrace is surrounded by casual plantings. I do intend to add a slightly formal element with simple lines of boxwood outlining a small part of the stone perimeter, and underplanted with Bergenia. The aim will be to emphasize the linearity of the terraced area seen from the distance, and to add a contrast to the informal plantings all around. As time permits, I'm also adding plantings to obscure the view of the garden below, to entice visitors to venture out, and to add a sense of mystery.

In the far left center, above, behind the large maple, I've planted a Hornbeam hedge. It went in only last weekend, so I don't expect to see my eight-foot barrier for quite a few years. When it matures it will screen an unattractive stretch of deer fencing, forming one of several offset "layers" of vegetation.

In the middle right of the photo is a linear stone planting area, which you can see in the closeup below, filled with box and Bergenia. This stone structure echos and visually extends a linear pond off to the right. Another project I hope to complete this year was the idea of my friend, garden designer Peter Holt. Peter suggested I extend the visual line created by long pond and long planter, by adding a second raised stone planter across the path, carrying the eye back toward the large maple and new Hornbeam hedge.

This structural feature is much more effective when the garden is flat, as it is now and in late winter, and will add considerably to the garden's central structure, which strongly echos the drainage pattern across this wet land. The flow of water across this land dictates much of the garden's shape, character, and plantings.

Said planter with box and Bergenia ...

and the infant Hornbeam hedge ...

Taking the path back across the garden, you can see what I mean about drainage. Note the very sharp slope of the land to the left. Immense amounts of water flow across this area during heavy rains, and for hours afterward.

And at the far side (below), a different kind of hedge, just planted, of Alder (Alnus gultinosa), which I will keep cut in a version of a Piet Oudolf-inspired camelback hedge, also to hide the unsightly deer fencing. But more importantly, to create a human-scale edging of shrubby materials that emotionally distance the tall surrounding forest and help familiarize the garden space.

Below, a sure sign of wetness:  Petasites hybridus x 'Dutch' in bloom across the path from the Alder.

And Darmera peltata in bloom, another lover of the wet ...

Garden Diary: the August burst continues

The pond entrance to the garden should create a sense of mystery and draw a visitor on to see what's around the corner. The curves that direct the eye to the left are there now, finally, but the plantings aren't right. Shrubs need to be placed strategically to block views and the perennial plantings need more work, particularly to contrast large, textured foliage near the viewer (Petasites japonicus x 'Dutch', Darmera peltata, Ligularia 'Desdemona') with smaller foliage in the distance.


The August burst of plant exuberance continues with Joe Pye Weed, Liatris pycnostachya, Inula racemosa 'Sonnenspeer' continuing in flower while the spent bloom of Rudbeckia maxima and Filipendula add geometric interest and seasonal complexity.




The Inula in the foreground (below) and Rudbeckia maxima further back provide an interesting study in contrasting structure (not that these look particularly well together). I'm pleased with the Inula (I ordered 20), which have grown quite large in the first season, thanks to the big roots shipped by Bluestem Nursery (link at top) last spring. The basal leaves of this plant are about 30 inches long, and I expect them to be even larger next year. Walking among these is like communing with living vegetable gnomes designed by Paul Klee.


... and most of the Inula even flowered in the first year.