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Tag: Gardening 101

  • Lessons Learned: Gardening My Rewilded Front Yard – Gardenista

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    It wasn’t a field when we bought the house in Massachusetts, but that’s what it ended up being. At first, there were massive junipers that lined the circular driveway—a presumed early attempt at formalism that had grown gargantuan due to neglect and caused frequent ice dams on our northern-facing roof by blocking out the sun. Once they were gone, it was just a barren plain, and the nakedness created by the newfound sunlight made us do what most young, dumb homeowners do: panic-buy a tree. We placed a three-inch caliper London plane slightly off-center in the giant green oval of lawn just to add some form of life, even if it was entirely too close to the house. By the time we actually knew what we wanted to do with the space, the tree had just settled into place. So, of course, we uprooted it again to its final home on the western edge of the property, and we had the clean slate we were finally ready for.

    I’m not a big fan of the term “rewilding,” not because I don’t believe in the cause, but because I don’t think that’s what’s actually being done. If I were actually doing that here, I’d let it return to woodland. Still, it’s the best term we’ve got, so it’s what we’ll use for the sake of this story. About five years ago, we lined its central axis with an allée of crabapples (Malus ‘Indian Summer’), mowed formal paths, sowed perennial seed, and got to work rewilding. While it’s still nowhere near where I’d like it to be, there are several lessons I’ve learned throughout the process.

    Photography by Nick Spain.

    Rewilding is still gardening.

    A rewilded landscape still needs maintenance.
    Above: A rewilded landscape still needs maintenance.

    I’m fortunate that most of my garden clients are curious about and open to letting some part of their property go more natural, because it will also be easier to maintain. I’m quick to tell them, however, that low maintenance doesn’t mean no maintenance. Regardless of how you go about it, whether that’s sowing seed on freshly turned earth, utilizing plugs, planting containerized plants, or some combination of all three, you will have to get your hands dirty and manage whatever you’ve installed. I find the real joy comes from the gardening style being more laissez-faire—whether that’s haphazardly slinging around lupine heads in July so they will create more stands in coming years, or knowing that I don’t have to get every single last strand of vetch out each time I weed since there are plenty of other plants it will have to compete with.

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  • Quick Takes With: Susanna Grant – Gardenista

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    “I am a gardener, garden designer, and writer. My consultancy, LINDA, designs and plants biodiverse urban gardens that are plant-focused with an emphasis on re-using existing materials where possible. I also organise and curate London’s best plant fairs—the Spring Plant Fair at the Garden Museum and the Autumn Plant Fair at Arnold Circus.”

    Read Susanna Grant’s bio, and you’ll be able to glean a few truths about her. One, she sees herself first and foremost as a gardener, a steward of the land, a caretaker of plants. Second, spontaneity and breeziness are key to her designs, as evidenced by the fact that she named her firm after a friend’s dog. And third, she’s keen on building a community of like-minded plant obsessives. (Count us in!)

    True to form, Susanna, who wrote a book on shade planting, is also a volunteer gardener and a trustee of Friends of Arnold Circus, and a director of Care Not Capital. “I’m particularly excited by the Modern Gardener training we are delivering to trained gardeners through Care Not Capital this summer at John Little’s experimental garden Hilldrop,” she tells us. “We’ve just opened applications for the second year of our free training.”

    Below, she tells us why she’s not a fan of sedum green roofs, how to easily get rid of a lawn, which plant stars in all of her projects, and more. (And if you’re curious to see more of her projects, be sure to go here and here.)

    Photography courtesy of Susanna Grant.

    Above: Susanna at the Garden Museum plant fair. Photograph by Graham Lacado.

    Your first garden memory:

    Probably my grandparent’s garden. They had a small rectangular pond with a miniature waterfall made out of bricks that my granddad built. It was deeply suburban! I loved lying beside it watching the water boatmen bugs on the surface.

    Garden-related book you return to time and again:

    Richard Maby’s Flora Britannica and Weeds: In Defense of Nature’s Most Unloved Plants. His writing is so conversational and captures the emotional connection we have with plants alongside his scientific observations. Both really good for dipping into. Derek Jarman’s Modern Nature is another favourite—again because of the deep relationship he nurtures with his garden. We live with nature, as nature—it is not something separate. These are books you don’t have to be a gardener to enjoy and they might change your perception of the plants around you.

    Instagram account that inspires you:

    @dandelyan, @howardsooley, @coyotewillow, @bennyhawksbee, @thetemperategardener, plus @johnderian for his occasional leggy pellie [etiolated Pelargoniums] posts. Sorry, I spend far too much time on there to be able to limit it to one!

    Describe in three words your garden aesthetic.

    Above: A project that reflects Susanna’s “light touch with hardscaping.”

    Natural, kind, plant-heavy. I want my gardens to look like they’ve always been there.

    Plant that makes you swoon:

    Oenothera stricta sulphurea—it’s the way the sunset colours seep into one another and gently glow at dusk. I rarely get to use it, as most of the gardens I plant are clay and have a fair amount of shade, but I will get it in whenever I can.

    Plant that makes you want to run the other way:

    Euonymus japonica ‘Aureomarginatus’. I’m trying to like variegation more and can take a silvery edge or delicate white splash, but the yellow and green of this euonymus is too much!

    Favorite go-to plant:

    Above: At the back of this small garden, nodding Digitalis lutea.

    Digitalis lutea. She goes everywhere with me. Tough, evergreen foliage, soft yellow flowers with a beautiful little deferential nod at the tip, good seedheads, good for pollinators, good for shade, good for most gardens.

    Hardest gardening lesson you’ve learned:

    Probably accepting that gardened spaces are ephemeral. You can pour your heart and soul into a design and planting and make sure it’s cared for, but someone can come and change all of it a few years down the line.
    Maybe also stop buying plants from nurseries that I don’t need and have nowhere to put them!

    Unpopular gardening opinion:

    I’m not convinced by the current trend of drought-tolerant Mediterranean planting in the UK as a simple answer to climate change. Yes, summers are getting hotter here, but winters are looking like they are going to get colder and wetter and a lot of Mediterranean plants won’t survive that. Climate emergency means constant adaptation and there isn’t a one-size fits all.

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  • A Love Letter to Sanguisorbas – Gardenista

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    I came to gardening, as many of us do, not necessarily out of a love of the natural world but because of a fascination with flowers. In the beginning, I was attracted to those big, vulgar things so often used as a punctuation mark within a planting scheme: the bright yellow colon of hollyhock or full-stop exclamation point brought by a sunflower’s radial symmetry.

    When transitioning to garden design in my late twenties, I would occasionally send photos of floriferous encounters to my grandmother—enormous tree peony blooms at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden, or creamy magnolias from my morning walk to work on the High Line. She was withering on her deathbed from Alzheimer’s, even though in my mind’s eye she will forever be crouched on her knees in the southern sun, toiling in a bed of dark pine mulch, her once-round cheeks surrounded by the acidic zing of wax begonias. The texts were sporadic because I didn’t know how to talk about dying. It occurs to me now that in sending them I was probably, on some subconscious level, hoping to fill her back up. 

    When I was studying horticulture at BBG, I had a teacher who talked about the first time he actually saw a landscape: not in the literal sense, but as a composition that was made by the sum of its parts. He spoke of how he was able to tease out the nascent forbs from the grasses, to read the silvery underside of certain pioneering shrubs and understand how they were linked to the calciferous earth below. This, I think, is what separates everyday passion from some degree of expertise: an ability to identify and confidently theorize about the minutiae working together to create a larger whole. Strangely, I can’t remember much else about the course, or even what it was.

    Clouds of Thalictrum rochebrunianum and Sanguisorba tenuifolia ‘Pink Elephant’ in late summer. Photograph by Nick Spain.
    Above: Clouds of Thalictrum rochebrunianum and Sanguisorba tenuifolia ‘Pink Elephant’ in late summer. Photograph by Nick Spain.

    With practice, that ability to zoom in on the details slowly came to me as well. I first spotted the fine, merlot-colored dots of Sanguisorba officinalis peeking out at the very back of some naturalistic garden, hidden between drifts of grass and backdropped by a shock of yellow—maybe Amsonia? I’ve long lost the image, but it’s bookmarked still in my mind, a dog-eared mental page of something I wanted to add to my own garden if and when conditions would allow. 

    Fortunately, those conditions manifested in a northwest-facing bed in my Massachusetts garden, a small strip of earth that stretches along one side of my driveway. Its aspect and location are challenging—constantly drowned beneath the dripline, baked by gravel, and receiving anywhere from two to eight hours of harsh afternoon sun depending on the time of year. During the time that had passed between that initial sighting of Sanguisorba officinalis and the creation of this bed, my rolodex of the species had grown. Sanguisorba tenuifolia, S. armena, S. obtusa, and their myriad cultivars drifted in my mind, and although not all could or would ultimately make the list, I decided to give many of my favorites a shot. 

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  • Lessons Learned: Growing, Killing, and Reviving a Meyer Lemon Tree – Gardenista

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    Beyond the double-glazed sash windows of our apartment, it is frigid February, but the air indoors smells like a citrus orchard in springtime. After my previous Meyer lemon tree succumbed to a fungal pathogen, brought on by overwatering,  I was sure I would never grow this particular citrus again.  I loved that tree, most of all when it was in sumptuous bloom, its scent a constant presence. But its slow and relentless decline due to root rot, and my decision to hasten its demise with several swift chops of a pair of Felcos, left me feeling ashamed. I had failed the tree, even as others—bergamot, yuzu, Thai limes—thrived.

    A couple of years passed. As they do. Then, in September 2024, my citrus-growing friend Rachel Prince mentioned that she had a Meyer lemon up for adoption. It was a beautiful tree with a quirky swoop to its trunk.

    How could I say no?

    Above: Meyer lemon blossom in late afternoon sun in February.

    The adopted Meyer lemon spends late spring through fall on our Brooklyn terrace along with the rest of the citrus trees, before coming indoors for winter.  In December I picked its beautiful lemons and wrote about making limoncello.

    Then, with the lemons harvested, I was very careful not to overwater the tree, which no longer needed to nourish all those fat fruit. It had been at this, post-harvest point that I had managed to swamp the previous Meyer lemon, watering it (thoughtlessly) as much as I had when it was heavy-laden. Citrus trees hate soggy roots.

    Shortly after harvest, still in December, the tree looked a little different. I was worried that I had done it again. The leaves either hung limp, or curled. Not curled downwards, but inwards, which typically means they are drought-stressed. But the moisture meter I use read damp, even wet. So I ignored what I know, and trusted the meter.

    After a week of this I decided to look at the roots, certain I would find a fungus at work, the telltale threads of roots exposed as the root sheaths slough off, fatally. On butcher paper on the bedroom floor I pulled out the tree and its rootball from the pot and discovered…not damp but drought. The potting medium was bone dry. Some roots had turned to dust. After worrying about overwatering, which is the most common cause of citrus decline, I had underwatered the lemon tree.

    I also found very compact areas in the potting medium, and this might be what caused the moisture meter to be off; the meters measure electrical conductivity and the soil mix can affect that. This single experience has made me reassess my reliance on a meter when in doubt.

    You make mistakes. You learn. Repeat.

    Above: Meyer lemons are very light-hungry. Give them a sunny window.

    To repot the tree, I mixed orchid bark, potting soil, and a cactus potting mix that is very gritty. This is a blend that drains well, and quickly—my recipe keeps evolving. The tree was tucked back into its pot and given a good drink (three quarts, if you are curious; a quart more than usual). To remove the excess water that runs into the saucer, I use the usual, designated turkey baster.

    No one said that citrus trees are low-maintenance. At least, no one should.

    Soon, I noticed the first pinpricks of flower buds. And here we are, eight weeks later.

    Above: Inhale. Exhale.

    The tree is in peak bloom. Flowers have been opening for 14 days (you begin to count, because each days seems like a miracle). Mature petals are dropping, and sometimes whole flowers  fall off, intact; that’s okay, in moderation—the tree could never support hundreds of fruit. But I am being very vigilant.

    Sometimes, in the morning or evening, I lie in bed (our bedroom is where the sun lives) and look at the branches, festooned with blossoms. I look, and breathe, in, and out. And think about nothing—try to think about nothing—but what I am seeing. Petals, rich green leaves, on a tree within reach.

    Above: Peak bloom for the Meyer lemon.

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  • Deer-Resistant Evergreen Shrubs: 5 Favorites to Plant

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    As if gardening weren’t challenging enough, sometimes deer take up residence in your garden and decide to host a dinner party. There is nothing worse than planting a bunch of pricey new plants, only to have them nibbled down to the ground. To help you avoid this costly occurrence and disappointment, I’m sharing a handful of my favorite deer-resistant shrubs that I have tested out over the years in various gardens.

    Word of caution: Every garden is different, every deer is different, and every season is different with varying degrees of available alternate food sources—so what may be unsavory to deer in one garden may be irresistible in another. Also, when plants are young, and the leaves and stems are tender, there is a higher chance that the plant will get snacked on; as the plant matures, it becomes less desirable. If this early munching happens, a deer-repellent spray can work if applied routinely and after any rain.

    1. Coleonema pulchrum

    Above: Photograph by Hans Hillewaert via Wikimedia.

    The plant is fondly called pink breath of heaven because crushing the needle-like leaves releases a pleasant scent. That same scent is what helps ward off deer. This low-maintenance shrub grows best in sunny spots and, depending on the variety, produces either dainty magenta, white, or pink flowers. ‘Sunset Gold’ offers bright golden foliage contrasting with pink flowers. It has moderate water needs and is hardy in USDA Zones 8-11.

    1. Westringia fruiticosa

    Above: Photograph by Marie Viljoen, from Under the Radar: A Five-Star Garden in Cape Town.

    These evergreen, easy-to-care-for shrubs come in various sizes, from low to tall, and make excellent informal or formal screens, low or high hedges, and ground covers. Because Westringia is in the mint family, the leaves aren’t appealing to deer. Most bloom profusely from late winter to early summer with petite flowers ranging in color from white to light lavender, putting them also in the bee- and small butterfly-friendly category. A sunny to mostly sunny spot and summer irrigation are appreciated. Hardy in USDA Zones 9-11.

    3. Leucadendron

    Above: Leucadendron ‘Safari Sunset’. Photograph by Jean-Michel Moullec via Flickr.

    Showing off vibrant color, some even in the winter, Leucadendrons are my go-to if I want structure, more visiting pollinators, year-round interest, and amazing sculptural cut flowers. Fast-growing, drought-tolerant, and low-maintenance, these shrubs can hover around three feet, though some tower to eight or more feet. Plant in a sunny spot for best growth and color. Pro tip: Avoid high phosphorous fertilizers as this can be extremely damaging. Hardy in USDA Zones 9-11.

    4. Grevillea

    Photograph by Lady Amberelle via Flickr.
    Above: Photograph by Lady Amberelle via Flickr.

    Looking for a fast-growing shrub that pumps out curious spidery flowers that deer leave alone? Grevillea is your gal. Coming in a wide range of heights and shapes and colors, there is a Grevillea for every sunny garden. Need a low ground cover? Try Grevillea lanigera. Need a tall informal screen? Go for Grevillea ‘Red Hooks’. Oh, and these low-maintenance shrubs are also true hummingbird magnets. When planting, make sure your soil has sharp drainage. Hardy in USDA Zones 9-11.

    5. Pieris japonica

    Photograph of Pieris japonica ‘Temple Bells’ is by James Gaither via Flickr.
    Above: Photograph of Pieris japonica ‘Temple Bells’ is by James Gaither via Flickr.

    This easy shrub not only offers year-round beauty and charming dangling flowers, but also the assurance that deer will leave it alone. Plant slow-growing Pieris in a shady to partly shady spot in a mixed border, woodland, or Asian-inspired garden; smaller varieties can be used in containers. Depending on the variety, it can grow anywhere from one foot tall to 12 feet tall, and two to eight feet wide. The flowers (coming in white, pink, and dark pink) are adored by bees and hummingbirds, and avoided by deer, who view them as toxic. Hardy in USDA Zones 5-8.

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  • Plant-O-Rama Celebrates 30 Years: Here Are 7 Ideas We Took Away from the Symposium – Gardenista

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    After a surprise snow day reschedule, Metro Hort Group hosted its 30th Plant-O-Rama last Thursday morning at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. Every year, hundreds of horticultural professionals descend on BBG for this symposium, trade show, and career fair. It is the signature event of Metro Hort, a member-based organization for horticulture professionals in the tri-state area. 

    This year’s symposium included keynote speeches by celebrated horticulturalist and author James Hitchmough and Green-Wood Cemetery‘s Joseph Charap and Sara Evans, its vice president of horticulture and director of the Living Collections, respectively. The symposium closed out with a panel discussions on the topic of “Gardens: Nurturing Plants, Communities, and People” with leaders from four of New York City’s horticulturally focused non-profit organizations: Andrea Parker of Gowanus Canal Conservancy; Jennifer Beaugrand of The Bronx is Blooming; Lisa Bloodgood of North Brooklyn Parks Alliance; and Tonya Gayle of Green City Force. All of it was wonderfully inspiring.

    Here are seven ideas to steal from this annual event:

    1. Aim for hyper-diversity.

    Above: Hitchmough managed to cram an astonishing 700 plant taxa into his former garden in Sheffield. Photograph by Richard Bloom.

    Horticulturalist, author, and emeritus professor of horticultural ecology at the University of Sheffield James Hitchmough kicked off the day with a lecture titled “Evaluating the Complexity and Diversity of Designed Herbaceous Plantings.” While many American ecological horticulturalists are focused on native plants, Hitchmough is more concerned with creating “hyperdiversity” in gardens to support biodiversity. He believes species-rich landscapes that include both native and non-invasive exotics can look exciting throughout the growing season and can reduce the seasonal hunger gaps for generalist invertebrates.  

    2. Use color as a “trojan horse.”

    Above: Hitchmough’s next personal project is his 2.5 acre garden and woodpasture-native meadow in rural Somerset, where he is putting his lifetime of research findings into practice. Photograph courtesy of James Hitchmough.

    Hitchmough’s advice for persuading more people to appreciate a naturalistic planting style is to use color as a “trojan horse.” In his research Hitchmough once grew a meadow in a public park and quizzed parkgoers about their feelings about the naturalistic planting at different stages of blossom. Park goers were much more likely to admire the wilder style when it included an abundance and variety of color. Tip: One of the ways that Hitchmough achieves hyperdiversity and continuous color is by planting what he calls an “understory” to the herbaceous layer of his gardens that blooms earlier in the season. 

    3. Lean on native “weeds.”

    Evans revealed that she often finds herself choosing native plants that are considered “weedy,” like little bluestem, because she’d rather be taming an overenthusiastic native than an invasive outsider like mugwort. It’s also an extremely cost-effective tactic. Elsewhere, Evans is paying attention to volunteer plants: When Clatonia virginiana popped up in a lawn area, they roped it off from mowing and after several years of blooming and setting seed, the spring ephemeral has spread to form drifts. 

    4. Plant baby trees. Baby old trees.

    At Green-Wood Cemetery horticulturalists are doing everything they can to preserve their mature trees, including propping up limbs. Photograph by Sara Evans.
    Above: At Green-Wood Cemetery horticulturalists are doing everything they can to preserve their mature trees, including propping up limbs. Photograph by Sara Evans.

    Much of the beginning of Joseph Charap and Sara Evans’s lecture about their innovative practices at Green-Wood Cemetery was about meeting the cemetery’s canopy loss. Charap and Evans point out that, too often, as older trees reach the end of their lives, there are no other trees in line to take their place (in both domestic and public landscapes). The team at Green-Wood is planting young trees on a massive scale, mostly bareroot because they are cheaper, easier to plant, and more successful than other young trees. They are also babying their oldest trees by creating root protection zones and branch props for aging limbs. It’s a two-pronged approach that any gardener could copy.

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  • Gardening 101: Oro Blanco Grapefruit Tree – Gardenista

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    The first thing to know is that Oro Blanco is not your grandma’s super tart grapefruit, the kind that puckers your lips and makes you squint like you’re staring at the sun. Oro Blanco is light years from this.

    A cross between an acid-less pomelo and a white grapefruit, Oro Blanco (or Oro) is a large citrus with a unique flavor. It’s surprisingly sweet, like a cross between honey and a pear. The real bonus is that it lacks the bitterness that most people shy away from. Other reasons to try the fruit: Oro’s thick but soft, spongy pale yellow rind makes it easy to peel, quite like an orange with segments that separate easily too. Oh, and Oro is seedless and quite juicy, making it a lovely addition to dressings, marinades, and cocktails such as a Paloma. The peel can even be candied, if you fancy that sort of thing. You can, of course, slice this grapefruit in half, old school, and sprinkle brown sugar on top and slide it into the broiler like grandma did with those traditional bitter types, but this grapefruit holds its own and doesn’t really need a sugar topping.

    Above: A 15-gallon potted Oro Blanco tree is $159 at Paradise Nursery.

    Oro Blanco (Spanish for ‘white gold’) was developed at the Citrus Experiment Station at the University of California, Riverside in 1958 by geneticists James E. Cameron and Robert Soost. The hybrid (created using traditional cross-pollination techniques) took over nine years to develop, and was patented and released to commercial markets  in 1980. Interestingly, this grapefruit faced its fair of challenges due to customers mistaking its green skin for being unripe. In Israel, the fruit was rebranded as Sweetie, which helped sales and spread the sweeter word.

    Above: A 5-pound box of Oro Blanco Grapefruits is $14.39 from Melissa’s Produce.

    Tip: Look for yellow-green to bright yellow skin but, like mentioned, color isn’t a true indicator; fully ripe ones may still sport green splotches. You can find these citrus treats at farmers markets and specialty stores in the fall season through early spring. Or easier, grow your own outdoors in USDA Zones 9-11. Outside of these zones, consider protecting your citrus from heavy frost by bringing your plant inside or moving it to a warm greenhouse.

    Cheat Sheet:

    Above: Photograph via NatureHills.com.
    • Intensely fragrant flowers delight people and bees.
    • A great source of Vitamin C and useful in various food and drink recipes.
    • Perfect for adding to an orchard, edible garden, or sunny balcony.
    • Deep green evergreen leaves make it also a wonderful ornamental tree.

    Keep It Alive:

    Above: Photograph via The Wishing Tree Company.
    • Grow in a spot that receives at least six hours of direct sun, either planted in a large container or in the ground.
    • Use well-draining, sandy loamy soil for planting. Soggy clay is ill-advised as this can lead to rot. You can even look for soil mixes specially formulated for citrus.
    • Plant your grapefruit on a slight mound and avoid burying the graft.
    • Water deeply and then let the soil dry slightly between drinks.
    • In the spring, feed your tree with some organic citrus fertilizer per the label’s instructions.
    • Keep your plant well-mulched but do not let the mulch cover the stem.
    • Prune to shape and remove any dead stems if they occur.

    See also:

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  • Vernonia lettermannii ‘Iron Butterfly’: Plant of the Year for 2026

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    The Garden Club of America (GCA) has named Vernonia lettermannii ‘Iron Butterfly’ Plant of the Year—which, according to its website, “is awarded annually to acknowledge the cultivation and use of native plants, trees, shrubs, ground covers, vines, and perennials that are little known but deemed worthy to be preserved, propagated, promoted, and planted.”

    “We engage with a small group of horticulture professionals from various botanical gardens and arboreta in the US. They receive all nominations and rank the plants based on growth factors, ecological services, adaptability, etc.,” explains horticulturalist and Freeman Medal vice chair Cynthia Druckenbrod, of the selection process. “They chose Vernonia lettermanni ‘Iron Butterfly’ because of its late season color, compact growth habit making it successful in backyard gardens, and drought and disease tolerance.”

    Above: Photograph by Krzysztof Ziarnek via Wikimedia.

    While ironweed itself is not unknown, this cultivar is a recent addition. “More nurseries are growing and selling this cultivar now. It was a relatively recent introduction in 2014, and Mt. Cuba Center’s trial of Vernonia cultivars was conducted between 2020 and 2023. During that time, their botanists ranked V. lettermannii ‘Iron Butterfly’ very high,” she shares.

    The cultivar has a lot going for it—and landscape designers have taken notice (Piet Oudolf has been known to incorporate the plant into his landscapes). With beautiful, almost fern-like narrow leaves, it adds soft mounds of texture in the garden. Its clumping habit makes it well behaved. It can tolerate drought as well as the occasional deluge, making itself happy in just about any part of the garden that has full sun. It can grow in poor soil and doesn’t require much attention, but can benefit with a Chelsea chop in May. Its purple-ish flowers bloom as early as July and can continue to frost, providing food for migrating hummingbirds and butterflies.

    A 5-inch deep pot of Iron Butterfly Ironweed is $17.99 at High Country Gardens.
    Above: A 5-inch deep pot of Iron Butterfly Ironweed is $17.99 at High Country Gardens.

    “Gardens should provide nectar sources for pollinators equally during spring, summer, and fall if possible. I think most tend to focus on mid-summer blooming perennials. Fall-blooming perennials are a real delight providing color until frost and important food resources for insects that overwinter or are laying eggs in the fall.”

    One last thing, if you are wondering if the plant was named after rock band Iron Butterfly, the answer is, yes! Steve Castorani, from North Creek Nurseries, gave it its name as a nod to the band and to the plant’s toughness and ability to thrive in poor conditions.

    Cheat Sheet

    Above: Joe-Pye weed and Vernonia lettermannii in a Pennsylvania garden. Photograph by Larry Weaner, from Garden Visit: Out with the Lawn, In with the Native Plants.
    • Native to Arkansas and Oklahoma, the hardy perennial does best in zones 4 to 9.
    • Tolerates a wide range of soils.
    • Grows to 24- to 36-inches high and 18- to 36-inches wide. Clump forming.
    • Drought tolerant once established.
    • Low maintenance. Happy in a prairie as well as a rock garden.

    Keep It Alive

    A 1-pint pot of Vernonia lettermannii �216;Iron Butterly�217; is $19 at White Flower Farm.
    Above: A 1-pint pot of Vernonia lettermannii ‘Iron Butterly’ is $19 at White Flower Farm.
    • Prefers full sun but will tolerate light shade. Too little sun will make the plant floppy.
    • Quite happy in poor soil, since over-rich soil will do the same as too little sun.
    • Very disease- and pest-resistant.

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  • Required Reading: The American Horticultural Society’s New Definitive Guide to Ecological Gardening – Gardenista

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    Since its founding in 1922, the American Horticultural Society (AHS) has published dozens of books, including deep-dive guides on single issues like propagation and starting seeds. The organization’s latest is Essential Guide to Ecological Gardening, a broad yet in-depth manual on ecological gardening practices. The book is part of many new efforts underway at AHS and the third in a new series focussed on sustainably minded gardening (AHS’s Essential Guide to Perennial Gardening and Essential Guide to Organic Vegetable Gardening were published last winter). 

    The new books’ timing coincides with both a wave of interest in organic and ecological gardening practices and a tsunami of less-than-reliable advice on the internet and social media. Matt Matthus, senior director of horticulture at AHS, says that the organization felt the need to offer a comprehensive guide that reflected the latest horticultural research. “Home gardeners really want more accurate information and less hacks,” he says. “We felt there needed to be a book that top-line addresses all of these ecological trends across the country.” And while it may be hard to believe, even as recently as five years ago most garden books weren’t talking about keystone species, fire-wise landscapes, and forever chemicals in fertilizers, just a few of the many topics covered in Essential Guide to Ecological Gardening. 

    Above: AHS is headquartered at the twenty-seven-acre River Farm, which is located on part of George Washington’s original farmlands in Alexandria. Photograph courtesy of American Horticultural Society.

    One thing that stands out flipping through the book is how many photos of birds, bees, butterflies, and even toads appear in its photos, a reflection of AHS encouraging gardeners to think of their gardens as a part of their local ecosystem. But this is a book for gardeners–not conservationists–so it’s not dogmatic about planting only straight-species native plants, nor does it shame gardeners for occasionally using pesticides. Rather, it offers advice for how to make better ecological choices while maintaining the aesthetics you prefer.

    Above: In fall and winter, dozens of bird species feast on seeds in the gardens. In spring, queen bumblebees head straight to the blooms of blueberries and other spring-flowering shrubs and perennials. Photography by Janet Davis, courtesy of American Horticultural Society.

    Essential Guide to Ecological Gardening is neither a garden design guide nor a dream book of garden tours (although we glimpse many attractive gardens in its pages): It’s a handbook and a reference book that gardeners can trust. Written by the staff of one of the oldest national gardening organizations in the United States and a team of professional consultants, its content was also reviewed by a horticultural advisory committee. 

    This book will appeal to beginner gardeners, but there is much for advanced gardeners as well. Here are six tips that the Gardenista team took away from this helpful new guide:

    Cut back halfway in fall.

    Above: Ecologically diverse landscapes have many layers and include a combination of both woody plants and herbaceous ones. They include many bloom shapes, colors, and times. Photograph by Kelly Norris, courtesy of American Horticultural Society.
    Above: Ecologically diverse landscapes have many layers and include a combination of both woody plants and herbaceous ones. They include many bloom shapes, colors, and times. Photograph by Kelly Norris, courtesy of American Horticultural Society.

    By now many gardeners know that leaving old stems and leaves in place provides much-needed habitat for hibernating insects, but for gardeners accustomed to a neat and tidy cut back, this can feel messy. AHS proposes cutting plants back partially instead, writing, “Rather than cutting plants down to the ground, you can leave half to a third of the stem length in place, which provides plenty of habitat, but also gives a tidier appearance.” Come spring the fresh growth will also cover the old stems faster.

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  • Winterberry 101: Native Berries to Brighten Winter – Gardenista

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    Despite being natively at home in bogs and on the edges of kettle ponds and other wetlands, winterberry, a native holly species, does not require wet feet in order to thrive. Ilex verticillata is a deciduous shrub that escapes notice until late in the season when its rounder-than-round fruit turn scarlet. When its leaves drop, and the fruit blazes on bare branches, it is suddenly the star of any landscape and garden.

    Here’s how to grow it.

    Above: Winterberry’s fruit ripens to red in early autumn.

    Native to the damp and boggy bits of eastern North America, winterberry has been cultivated since at least the late 18th century for its dramatically attractive fruit. It is surprisingly adaptable in terms of its water requirements, though, flourishing in sites that are not moist as long as the soil is acidic. High pH soils will cause chlorosis in the leaves and shrubs may die, while periods of real drought may cause the fruit to drop.

    While winterberry will grow well in high and semi shade, full sun produces more fruit on female plants. Yes, you need a male, too. But one boy shrub is sufficient to provide pollen for several female plants.

    Above: This yellow cultivar is ‘Winter Gold.’

    Winterberry fruit are an important food for resident bird populations as well as small animals who tend to eat them after they have softened, well into winter and often through early spring

    Above: Placing winterberry against an evergreen backdrop makes its branches pop.
    Above: The fruit persists, even during an ice storm.

    Cheat Sheet

    • Winterberry’s native range is from Alabama to Newfoundland.
    • It grows naturally near streams, and in swamps and bogs.
    • The leaves of winter berry are larval food for the pawpaw sphinx, a native butterfly that also feeds on pawpaw (Asimina triloba) leaves.
    • The tiny summer flowers are a food source for small pollinators.
    • The shrubs are dioecious, and you need a male in order for the females to set fruit.
    Above: Living holiday decorations.

    Keep It Alive

    • Winterberry is hardy from USDA zones 3 to 9.
    • It requires acidic soil (low pH) and tolerates wet soil, clay, and very urban conditions.
    • The shrubs will not thrive—and may die—in alkaline soils.

    See also:

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  • Quick Takes With: Julie Weiss – Gardenista

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    Favorite hardscaping material:

    Natural local materials like nearby rocks, stone, gravel. Less carbon footprint transporting materials that are likely nearby. I love different textures used together. More plants, less hardscaping is my preference these days.

    Go-to gardening outfit:

    Above: In her Le Laboreur chore coat.

    Protective clothing from the weather. Comfortable layers. A hat. French work shirts got very trendy in the fashion world for a minute, but they are very useful in the garden because of the thick canvas fabric that plants don’t catch onto. Layers for the cold. While working in the winters at Dixter I think I had on at least 5 layers. Waterproofs are essential. I am a toolbelt person…always secateurs (mine are Japanese or Felcos for pruning), my Dixter hand trowel, a pocket attachment for a pen and notepad, a hori hori, and a hand-saw if I am pruning. And clip for my gloves.

    Tool you can’t live without:

    My Sneeborer wide trowel and Dixter designed short spade. These excellent tools are meaningful to me as I got them on my first real visit to Great Dixter, a succession planting Symposium in 2016. I had no idea I’d still be using these same tools almost 10 years later. I tend to get attached to the history of things.

    Favorite nursery, plant shop, or seed company:

    Above: Cistus Nursery in Portland, OR.

    On the US West Coast, Dan Hinkley’s Windcliff Plants (in person only, and you can visit the garden if you shop at the nursery) and Sean Hogan’s Cistus Nursery. I am so very lucky to be near and visit these 2 incredible nurseries. Digging Dog in northern California (mail order only) is phenomenal. In the UK the Great Dixter Nursery and the Beth Chatto Nursery. I love the Theodore Payne Nursery in LA (they have a large selection of California native seeds), and Plant Material in LA. For seeds: Johnny’s, Hudson Valley Seed Company,

    On your wishlist:

    Visiting the Atacama Desert and the Silk Road. Always California desert wildflower trips.

    Not-to-be-missed public garden/park/botanical garden:

    Silver Falls State Park in Oregon (for the waterfalls and native flora), Joshua Tree National Park in California. Windcliff and Heronswood Garden in the Pacific Northwest. Chanticleer Garden near Philadelphia. Great Dixter House and Garden in East Sussex.

    The REAL reason you garden:

    Above: Layered up and on the move.

    Just to be with plants and to be outside connected with the outdoors. I love trying to make something beautiful and interesting that is alive, while also providing for wildlife—that is more important than anything to me these days. And being with other gardeners is really fun. Maybe the best part. I am a team person!

    Thanks so much, Julie! (You can follow her on Instagram @julieaweiss.)

    For our full archive of Quick Takes, head here.

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  • Gardening 101: Opium Poppy – Gardenista

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    Opium Poppy, Papaver somniferum

    The notoriety of Papaver somniferum, the “sleep-inducing poppy,” is only partly to do with its outlaw family.

    Opium poppies are grown for their edible seeds and for pharmaceutical uses. The type that you see in gardens—whether your own or in the medicinal section of a botanic garden—is the legal relation, not toxic enough to be useful to anyone. The subversive beauty of P. somniferum is firmly rooted in its fabulous color and texture, and the way it can turn a vegetable patch into a Dutch painting.

    Photography by Jim Powell for Gardenista.

    Self-seeded opium poppy that has not been weeded out of a fennel, in my garden.
    Above: Self-seeded opium poppy that has not been weeded out of a fennel, in my garden.

    More correctly but prosaically called “breadseed poppy,” Papaver somniferum is an unknown quantity when in bud. A couple of nearby seeds may result in shades of profound magenta and desirable pink, like the wild opium poppies in our vegetable garden, at the top of this page. On the other hand, they could germinate into the tawdriest hues of clapped-out mauve, in which case you are perfectly within your rights to pull them out.

    Above: Double varieties of black opium poppy include Papaver somniferum ‘Black Beauty’ and ‘Black Peony’.

    This is the great thing about self-seeding plants: If you edit them, they look purposeful. If you don’t, then they are weeds, run amok. Opium poppies grow well with other poppies, seen here, above, at the Oxford Botanic Garden, in the medicinal plant beds. But it’s more fun to allow them to pop up wherever they like. In soil that is rich, like a vegetable garden, they will grow stout and tall, with handsome glaucous foliage and green-gray seed heads on strong stalks.

    Single deep black opium poppies at Oxford Botanic Garden.
    Above: Single deep black opium poppies at Oxford Botanic Garden.

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  • Resolutions Roundup: Garden Pros Share the 10 Ways They’re Changing Their Landscapes in 2026 – Gardenista

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    With the start of the new year, our minds are a-swirl with ideas for what we’ll do in our gardens come spring. For inspiration, we asked garden and landscape professionals to tell us the changes they’re planning for their own gardens this year. Their answers run the gamut from ecological resolutions to fixes for eye sores, but one common thread runs through them: landscapes are always changing—and these garden pros aren’t bothered by that. They simply have to keep up and change alongside them.

    Rethinking lawn removal.

    Above: One of Evans’ students, Rosa, hosted a spring planting party; she and her friends planted plugs directly into her lawn. By the following summer, native wildflowers had filled in the entire area (seen from the opposite side, right). Photograph by Heather Evans.

    Heather Evans, co-founder of Design Your Wild, a newsletter and online community, says she’s not removing gras—even though she’ll be decreasing the amount of lawn in her new yard by more than 50 percent. “Instead, I’ll be planting hundreds of native trees, shrubs, and perennials into the existing lawn. The turf will act like mulch while the natives grow in and will eventually be crowded out by them. After trying every method of killing lawn before planting, I realize it’s often not necessary and even harmful, inviting invasives, disturbing the soil microbiome, and causing compaction.”

    Trying a new palette.

    Above: These native flowers are all on Evans’s moodboard for her new garden. Clockwise from top left: Malvaviscus arboreus var. drummondii (photograph via Texas Master Gardeners); Oenothera speciosa (photograph via Wildseed Farms); Lonicera sempervirens (photograph via Native Plant Trust); Salvia coccinea ‘Coral Nymph’ (photograph via Gardenia.net).

    Evans is also making an aesthetic change in her new Florida garden: She’s thinking in pink. “I’ll be planting species—and even cultivars!—from beyond my native range to execute my white-pink-coral floral palette,” says Evans. “I’m loving Texas natives like showy primrose, Drummond’s phlox, and pink Turk’s cap, in addition to Florida native trumpet honeysuckle, pink scarlet sage, and Pinxter azalea.” While maintaining her palette, Evans is planning to plant “two thirds for the birds” (at least 70 percent locally native species to support birds and butterflies). “I’m relying heavily on locally native shrubs and trees. I’m especially excited about white-flowering fringe tree, flatwoods plum, and Walter’s viburnum.”

    Dealing with an eyesore.

    Above: This photo shows the section of garden before Norris installed the heat pump. He says, “This project feels manageable, if not also challenging. How will we disguise this equipment without drawing more attention to it in the first place?” He plans to relocate some Joe Pye weed deeper into the border for a starter.

    The biggest change author, horticulturist, and garden designer Kelly Norris will embrace in 2026 is disguising an ugly addition to his yard: A newly-installed heat pump and exhaust vents. “It’s a reminder that home improvements, however necessary, can significantly change the experience of a home garden,” says Norris. “After lots of hand-wringing and probably much eye-rolling from our plumbers, we located it in a spot we deemed least visually consequential. It’s still a bit of an eyesore that will require reworking our prairie border, but the upside is that the old A/C condenser unit is no longer in our outdoor entertaining area.”

    Learning a new skill.

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  • Secrets of an English Head Gardener: How to Transplant Shrubs and Perennials – Gardenista

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    Moving perennials or shrubs once they’re in situ can be daunting for a novice gardener. But when you are starting a garden or reinventing one, it’s almost impossible not to make the occasional planting error or realize that you’ve put something in the wrong spot. Yet many plants transplant well—some even require it as part of routine divisions—and the whole process is a lot less scary than you might think.

    We asked Edward Flint, who is head gardener at Tidebrook Manor in East Sussex and worked for many years alongside Christopher Lloyd at Great Dixter, for his tips on how, when, and why to move plants—and which you should leave well alone.

    Here are nine tips to transplant shrubs and perennials:

    How to Transplant Shrubs

    Moving a shrub is always a risk; some will cope with the stress and trauma better than others but if you need to move it then there are some ground rules.

    1. Water before digging. “Water the plant really well the night before and then reduce its canopy,” says Ed. “This will lessen the stress on the plant (balancing the top growth with the roots) but will also make it easier to maneuver the plant.

    Bare Root Beech Plants (Fagus sylvatica) make good hedging plants are available in various sizes for prices from £1.29 to £49.99 depending on size from best4hedging.
    Above: Bare Root Beech Plants (Fagus sylvatica) make good hedging plants are available in various sizes for prices from £1.29 to £49.99 depending on size from best4hedging.

    2. Be gentle with the roots. Try to dig the plant out with as much root ball as possible, cutting into the ground around 12 to 18 inches from the base, says Ed.

    Reviving a historic parterre in Northamptonshire. For more of this garden, see Rehab Diary, Part 3: Uncovering the Past in Nancy Lancaster’s Garden at Wilderness House. Photograph by Jim Powell.
    Above: Reviving a historic parterre in Northamptonshire. For more of this garden, see Rehab Diary, Part 3: Uncovering the Past in Nancy Lancaster’s Garden at Wilderness House. Photograph by Jim Powell.

    3. Plan ahead and root prune before transplanting. If you’re planning to move an established shrub then you can root prune the plant a year before by digging down in a circle around the base, which will lessen the shock when you eventually transplant it. But as a rule, says Ed, shrubby things or woody-based things tend not to move very well.

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  • Perennials for a Shade Garden: Our Favorite Native Species and Hardy Flowering Plants

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    All week, we’re revisiting the most popular stories of 2025, including this one from July.

    A shade garden is a green and contemplative refuge. It can also be a botanical calendar, with flowers signaling the change of seasons. Well-chosen perennials for shade provide texture and pattern, flowers, and sometimes even fruit. They offer an indispensable layer of interest alongside the architecture of shrubs and trees, and the seasonal excitement of shade-loving annuals. Perennials are plants that return every year after a dormant period and they usually bloom for a few weeks. Choosing perennials whose bloom-time is staggered over the growing season gives us that gift that gardeners, in particular, enjoy: anticipation. Our favorite perennials for shade work harder, though, and are about more than flowers—their foliage or form is interesting even when the plant is not flowering. Here are 13 of our favorites.

    Foamflower, Tiarella cordifolia

    Above: Foamflower thrives in pots or in-ground.
    Above: Foamflower creates frothy carpets of flowers in early spring.

    Foamflower blooms in early spring, creating frothy pockets of brightness in the garden. This species of Tiarella propagates itself, establishing new plants from skinny surface-runners, making it a perfect naturalizer for shady path edges and woodland floors. When not in bloom, its maple-shaped leaves create a softly textured quilt. This Eastern native is hardy from USDA zones 4 (and possibly 3) to 9.

    Doll’s eyes, Actaea pachypoda

    Above: The graceful flowers of doll’s eyes are deliciously-scented

    Perhaps one of the best-scented perennials for shade, doll’s eyes are also known as white baneberry, thanks to the plants’ Halloween-ready, toxic white fruit on blood-red stalks in late fall. But in spring, they are all sweetness, with lemon-scented white flowers. This woodland native relishes full shade and blooms in mid-spring above prettily toothed leaves. Doll’s eyes are hardy from zones 3 to 8.

    Wake robin, Trillium species

    Above: Woodland elegance—Trilliums in mid-spring.

    The understated elegance of native Trilliums belongs to a woodland spring. Planted under deciduous trees in soil rich in leaf humus or compost, they bask in spring sunshine and shelter in early summer shade. They are especially effective planted in groups with companion plants that fill out when the Trilliums are dormant, from summer onwards. Different species have blooms that may be white, yellow, or red, with erect or nodding flowers, and most are hardy within zones 4 to 7.

    Meadow rue, Thalictrum species

    Above: The white flowers of native tall meadow rue in a pot on my Brooklyn terrace.
    Above: Meadow rue (native to Asia) has purple flowers.

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  • The Best Plants to Attract Hummingbirds to Your Garden

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    All week, we’re revisiting the most popular stories of 2025, including this one from March.

    The humble hummingbird has always been a pollinator favorite among gardeners, but lately it’s been attracting more (and new) buzz. Katie Tamony, chief marketing officer and trend spotter at Monrovia, tells us she’s been seeing increased interest in drawing hummingbirds to the garden. “I’ve heard it called the next glamour animal—the one they most want to take a photo of, the one that stops them in their tracks when they encounter it in the garden,” she shares.

    Most devoted hummingbird lovers know that these tiny winged creatures especially love bright, tubular or vase-shaped flowers. “The specific shape of these blooms can accommodate the long bills of the hummingbirds, making it easier for them to gather nectar,” says Katie. Another tip: Plant these plants en masse to create a concentrated nectar source: “Their incredibly high metabolism calls for lots of nectar, and they can get it more easily by visiting a mass of flowering plants in one area.” You may also want to consider staggering blooms times for a longer feeding season.

    “But nectar isn’t the only thing that keeps hummingbirds happy,” says Katie. “They’re also always feasting on small insects, a lesser known but essential part of the hummingbird diet. Encouraging insects by not spraying pesticides in the garden and growing a diverse selection of plants is important.”

    Ultimately, of course, there’s no surefire way to lure hummingbirds to your yard. To up your chance of a sighting, Katie suggests mixing appropriate cultivars, like those listed below, with natives in the garden “to create an insect-rich environment that offers more and longer blooms than natives alone.” Add a hummingbird feeder if you want, but it’s not a must: “We used to have one that seemed like the squirrels were also feasting on, so we got rid of it. And we still see a lot of hummingbirds visit our yard.”

    Below, Katie’s picks for cultivars beloved by hummingbirds.

    Featured image above by BudOhio via Flickr.

    Photography below courtesy of Monrovia.

    ‘Stoplights’ Red Yucca

    �216;Stoplights�217; Red Yucca
    Above: ‘Stoplights’ Red Yucca

    ‘Stoplights’ is a no-brainer when it comes to hot, arid climates. Once established, this low-maintenance plant thrives with little water. Slender green leaves send out tall spikes adorned with crimson-red flowers—the color that hummingbirds are famously attracted to. Recommended for USDA Zones 5-11.

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  • The All-Star List: 5 Plants I Want More of In My Garden – Gardenista

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    December is the month for year-end reviews. There’s already a deluge of best-of lists for books and movies, but what about plants? I think they deserve accolades, too.

    Below, I’ve come up with my personal list of plants that I want more of in my garden. These are five perennial plants that have have proven their mettle and fared well on my property. And because of their stellar performance, I’d like to welcome more of their kind into my garden. They have a few things in common. They are all flowers. They are all in the aster family (the largest plant family). They all do well in zone 7a. They tolerate the local clay soil conditions and while they love sun, they’re also content in part shade. They also support pollinators and put on a good show! What more can a gardener ask for?

    Without further ado…

    Sneezeweed

    Above: Photograph by Andrey Zharkikh via Flickr.

    Sneezeweed (Helenium autumnale) has yellow single-petaled flowers that bloom from August to October. A native with a wide North American range in zones 3 to 8, it supports pollinators, is deer-resistant, and can be happy in a rain garden. Mine got a bit too happy, since I forgot the planting adage “sleep, creep, leap.” The first year in the ground, the plant builds roots (sleeps), the second year it switches between roots to top growth (creeps), and the third year, it’s mainly top growth (leaps)! This was the plant’s third year in my yard, and it grew to over five feet—taller than me! Its common name comes from the dried flowers being used as snuff, which is odd, since the plant is toxic to humans. I will divide it in the spring and move it from the front to the back of the bed. (This plant is so self-reliant and fuss-free that it made my list of favorite Low-Maintenance Flowers that Thrive on Benign Neglect.)

    Monkshood

    Photograph by Joy Yagid.
    Photograph by Joy Yagid.

    Aconitum carmichaelii ‘Arendsii’ gets its common name from the flower’s unusually draping. It blooms from June through September (although mine lasted well into November this year) and can reach a height of four feet. There are native and nonnative varieties. The native variety, A. noveboracense, is on the federal threatened plant list. All the rest are non-native. (I have a non-native variety. Should native seeds be made available to the public, I would try to grow them.) They like full sun to part shade and damp but well-drained areas in zones 3 to 7. Things you need to know before considering this plant: all parts are highly toxic, and it should be grown where children and pets cannot access it. I have a fenced-in yard and no small children or pets. When I had kids, I removed the plant from my garden, but now that there are only adults in the house, I have brought it back. I will divide it and place it along the fence near my rain garden.

    New England and New York Asters

    Photograph by Joy Yagid.

    I have a hard time telling apart New England and New York asters (Symphyotrichum novae-angliae and Symphyotrichum novi-belgii). New England asters have thicker stems and purple-pink flowers that can grow to six feet tall; New York has thinner stems and purple flowers that grow to about four feet tall. Both are native to North America in zones 4 through 8, flower late summer into late fall, and last a long time, supporting migrating monarchs and many native bees. These are just fabulous plants—beautiful, pest- and disease-resistant, low-maintenance, and unfussy in a vast range of conditions. I plan to add these along the back fence in my backyard.

    Blue Stem Goldenrod

    Photograph by Joy Yagid.
    Photograph by Joy Yagid.

    Solidago caesia is such a happy plant, with sprays of golden yellow flowers on bluish stems. Unlike the other tall growers on my list, this one grows to just three feet tall and is perfect as a mid-bed plant. It’s a low-maintenance native plant that tolerates poor soil, shade, and benign neglect. It is also far more well behaved than its goldenrod cousins (looking at you Solidago canadensis) and pretty much stays where you plant it. Blue stem goldenrod blooms in fall and supports many pollinators. I’ll plant more of these near my New York and New England asters. Purple and yellow go great together.

    White Snakeroot

    Photograph by Joy Yagid.
    Photograph by Joy Yagid.

    Most people consider white snakeroot (Ageratina altissima) a weed. I don’t. Like blue stem goldenrod, it thrives on neglect. It begs you to ignore it; however, you do need to keep an eye on it. It loves to spread. Another aster family plant, this one has small clusters of white flowers in corymbs and can grow two to feet feet high. It blooms from July through November, giving overwintering insects one last chance to fill up before diapause. I currently have a few in my front yard, and they are striking against my blue house. I will divide them in the spring and add them to my rain garden and in the partial shade in the front beds.

    See also:

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  • Winter Is Coming: How to Care for Houseplants When They Go Dormant – Gardenista

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    Just like us, houseplants want to hunker down for the colder and shorter days ahead. While your foliage friends might not appreciate a warm cup of cocoa or cozy scarfs, they do appreciate a little pampering and a lot of rest during the fall and winter months, when temperatures dip, light conditions dwindle, and moisture diminishes. Most plants will naturally slow down or stop growing at this point to conserve and store energy for growing season come spring. Basically, most houseplants go winter dormant.

    If you’re an indoor plant parent, keep reading to learn some helpful tips to keep your potted friends healthy and happy during this time of rest.

    1. Alter your watering schedule.

    Above: Plants need to drink less when they go dormant. Photograph by Mimi Giboin, from Best Houseplants: 9 Indoor Plants for Low Light.

    While you might think you should maintain your watering schedule, most houseplants actually prefer less water during this slow period. Always check the level of moisture in your plant’s soil before watering by pushing your finger into the soil about 2 inches, and if it’s dry then you can give it a thorough drink. Be aware that excess water leads to soggy soil which can lead to root rot. Of course each type of plant has different moisture needs, so it pays to do your homework.

    2. Dust those leaves.

    Above: Photograph by Michael J. Spear via Urban Outfitters, from Still Life with Houseplants: Macramé Artist Emily Katz in Portland, Oregon.

    Plants take in oxygen through their tiny pores, so it’s smart to dust your houseplants on a regular basis to make sure that these breathing leaves remain open and not clogged. Bonus: clean leaves also are better at absorbing light during these dim times. How to do this? Wipe your plant’s leaves with a damp, clean cloth, and while you’re at it, remove any yellowing or dead leaves.

    3. Make sure they stay warm.

    Fiddle leaf figs like the light but not the draft. Photograph by Kelly Marshall, from Expert Advice: How to Throw a Dinner Party with Minimal Effort, from an SF Creative Director.
    Above: Fiddle leaf figs like the light but not the draft. Photograph by Kelly Marshall, from Expert Advice: How to Throw a Dinner Party with Minimal Effort, from an SF Creative Director.

    Okay, I said no warm scarves for your plants, but that doesn’t mean you can’t turn up the heat in the house. Most indoor plants like temps to hover above 50 degrees F. If they get too cold, some houseplants will actually start shedding their leaves. If they’re currently living next to a drafty window, you may want to consider moving them to a toastier spot.

    4. Turn up the humidity.

    African violets need humidity in order to thrive. Photograph by Mimi Giboin, from African Violets: Rethinking �216;America�217;s Favorite House Plant�217; for Modern Times.
    Above: African violets need humidity in order to thrive. Photograph by Mimi Giboin, from African Violets: Rethinking ‘America’s Favorite House Plant’ for Modern Times.

    With added dry heat, however, comes a lack of humidity. To thrive, plants like 50-60% humidity. To ensure they stay foliage-fit, consider placing your plants on trays filled with pebbles and water to increase the moisture in the air. Humidifiers also do the job. Another idea is to huddle your plants together to create a symbiotic micro climate, meaning plants close together will transpire by releasing water from their leaves and then share it with neighboring plants.

    5. Change the light exposure.

    Above: A plant leaning into the light. Photograph by Emily Johnston, from The Accidental Jungle: Shabd Simon-Alexander’s Houseplants in a New York Apartment.

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  • Gardening 101: Common Fig – Gardenista

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    Common fig, Ficus carica 

    The next plant I plan to buy for myself (and not for a garden client) will definitely be a fig tree. I usually harvest figs from my clients’ trees, and any fruit that goes uneaten I turn into yummy fig jam, but transporting delicate, thin-skinned figs home is a tenuous and messy activity. The solution is simple: it’s time to grow my own.

    Native to the Middle East and parts of Asia, figs are one of the oldest known fruits (they were one of the first trees to be cultivated in Egypt) and came to North America by Spanish missionaries in the early sixteenth century. The fruit, to some, represents the womb, and more generally, fertility. (Interestingly, fig flowers hide inside the fruit.) And the expression, “fig leaf,” is used figuratively to describe an object used to cover up something embarrassing—obviously a Biblical reference to Adam and Eve using fig leaves to cover their nakedness.

    Above: Photograph by Marla Aufmuth for Gardenista, from Stalking the Wild Fig.

    More than 700 named cultivars of the common fig exist, and they flourish in areas with a Mediterranean climate, meaning mild winters and hot, dry summers. If you live in USDA Zones 8 to 10, you can grow an attractive fig tree in your garden without needing protection from freezing winter temperatures. If you live outside of those zones, pick hardier cultivars or grow your fig in a large container, top dress with compost, and bring into an unheated garage for the winter.

    Above: A sampling of figs grown in the orchard of the University of California at Davis. Photograph by Marla Aufmuth for Gardenista, from Stalking the Wild Fig.

    Relatively fast, fig trees can soar from about 10 to 30 feet tall if planted in the ground. Grown in containers, the tree’s height and width will be much smaller. With many varieties available, and with such a broad range of fruit color, shape, and taste, choosing the best option can be intimidating. I always recommend starting with a variety well-suited to your climate, then go for taste and color second. Also, a reassuring fact is that common fig trees grown in home gardens don’t require another fig for pollination, and because they don’t need an opening for pollinating wasps to enter, they are less vulnerable to rot caused by rainwater or other insects. The best option is to visit your local nursery and see what varieties they carry or what they recommend.

    Potted fig trees won�217;t grow as tall or wide as those planted in the ground. A 3-gallon pot of Ficus carica �216;Little Miss Figgy�217; Tree is $71.95 at Fast Growing Trees.
    Above: Potted fig trees won’t grow as tall or wide as those planted in the ground. A 3-gallon pot of Ficus carica ‘Little Miss Figgy’ Tree is $71.95 at Fast Growing Trees.

    In the right conditions, and on some varieties like San Pedro, your fig tree could produce two times a year.  The first crop, called a “breba” crop (from the Spanish word Breva, meaning ‘early fig’), is the fig produced on last year’s wood and ripens in late May or early June, and a second will be ready to harvest in late September to early November.

    While it’s the fruit that is commonly eaten, and well-known to be rich in calcium, B-vitamins, and important minerals, the young mildly fragrant fig leaves are also edible, and they add a nice vanilla flavor to food. The first record of fig leaves being used to wrap food is in third century BC.

    Common Varieties for Home Gardens

    The �216;Brown Turkey�217; Fig Tree is $79.99 for a 1-gallon pot at Pixies Gardens.
    Above: The ‘Brown Turkey’ Fig Tree is $79.99 for a 1-gallon pot at Pixies Gardens.
    • Brown Turkey: Large, sweet figs with few seeds emerge over a long season.
    • Purple Genoa (also called Black Spanish or Black Genoa): Large, deep purple figs with sweet red flesh. Great for turning into jam.
    • Alma: A late season fig, this tree produces rich tasting figs.
    • Celeste: This moderately sized tree to 15 feet tree produces smaller fruit and earlier than most. This tree is popular in the southeastern United States because it can tolerate heat and cold better.
    • Mission: Sweet purplish black fruit ripens in summer. This fig was used in historic California Missions and can live a long time.

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  • How to Deer-proof Your Garden: Tips to Deter Deter from Eating Your Plants

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    This is part of a series with Perfect Earth Project, a nonprofit dedicated to toxic-free, ecological gardening, on how you can be more sustainable in your landscapes at home.   

    For more than two decades, Nancy Lawson has been living in harmony with deer. Sure, they’re in her Maryland yard every single day. Yes, they come to eat, rest, and, occasionally, rut. But, no, they don’t destroy her garden. In fact, it’s thriving. “We made a commitment to creating habitat for all animals,” says the nature writer, naturalist, and founder of Humane Gardener. “We manage for resilience.” Her garden is thriving. 

    White-tailed deer populations have soared in this century. Since we wiped out nearly all their predators (grey wolves and mountain lions) and have taken over their natural habitat (developing 95 percent of the land in the US), they look for food and shelter anywhere they can find it, and that’s often in our gardens. As a result, their public image has gone from beloved Bambi to super villain—through no fault of their own.  

    But it doesn’t have to be that way. Lawson shares with us how we can all happily coexist with deer.  

    Photography by Nancy Lawson, unless otherwise noted. (Featured photograph above by @anoldent via Flickr.)

    Plant densely and employ “protector plants.”

    Lawson has combined tasty and less tasty plants along a pathway that deer traverse, including common sneezeweed (Helenium autumnale), blue mistflower (Conoclinium coelestinum), late boneset (Eupatorium serotinum), and American burnweed (Erechtites hieraciifolius).
    Above: Lawson has combined tasty and less tasty plants along a pathway that deer traverse, including common sneezeweed (Helenium autumnale), blue mistflower (Conoclinium coelestinum), late boneset (Eupatorium serotinum), and American burnweed (Erechtites hieraciifolius).

    Walk through a nature preserve or forest and you won’t find plants spread out like polkadots poking out of a sea of mulch. “We never put a plant out in the open by itself,” says Lawson. “It’s not how it grows in nature.” In the wild, plants grow in communities. They mingle. They intertwine. Having an array of varieties growing densely prevents any one plant from being decimated. “If there’s a big mixture that includes some less palatable plants, deer are much less likely to devour a given area,” says Lawson. “But if I have all the same species lined up for 10 feet, and it’s tasty, then that’s really easy for them to eat it all.” Think about planting as you would companion-planting in a vegetable garden, says Lawson, and mix it up. 

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