Almost back

Over two winters the three Southern magnolias (Magnolia grandiflora, below in bloom) in the garden were beaten and battered by snow. The main trunk of ‘Bracken’s Brown Beauty’ was broken once in the heavy snow of 2010, and more damage was inflicted in the wet snow a year later. While the trunk of ‘Greenback’ was spared, many of its upright growing branches were shattered. ‘Alta’ was damaged only slightly in the heaviest snow, but it lost a few small branches to the wet snow, and this year a lower branch was snapped, I presume due to deer rubbing against it.

These have been difficult years for the magnolias, but each spring the trees have bounced back to cover their injuries with new growth. The ‘Brackens’ magnolia is hardly half as tall as it was a few years ago, but now it’s twice as wide. Rather than having a broad pyramidal form, it’s now short and squat, a huge evergreen shrub. The other magnolias barely show signs of the damage.

I briefly considered chopping out the two worst of the magnolias when I was cleaning up other storm damage, but they are in relatively inconspicuous spots (to me) along the neighbor’s property line, so I left them. I know that many gardeners consider the evergreen magnolias to be messy and a nuisance, but my garden is perpetually messy enough that the leathery fallen leaves aren’t a bother, so I’m happy that I reconsidered cutting them out.

There’s been mixed success with other snow damaged evergreens. Nandinas that were laid flat quickly perked up, though a few stray branches arched a bit more. A few of these partially obstructed stone paths in the garden, so my wife has pruned them to the ground. Boxwoods and hollies sprang back into shape soon after the snow melted, and the holes left by broken branches quickly filled back in.

Bent branches of upright growing arborvitae and junipers were bound with nylon straps, and after a few years some have regained their form and a few haven’t. One ‘Gold Cone’ juniper (Juniperus communis ‘Gold Cone’, above) regained its shape, but a second was more severely damaged, was chopped in half  in a desperate attempt at salvage, and now will be cut out since it failed to shape up. ‘Gold Cone’ barely shows any gold color at all in the heat and humidity of Virginia, so it will hardly be missed.

To look around the garden only the most critical eye would be aware of the damage, and I’ve discovered that I can look over, around, or through a less than desirable specimen for however long it takes for it to be presentable again. If this was a more public garden with more frequent visitors I might be more concerned, but probably not.  Plants will repair themselves to a surprising extent if some patience (or laziness) is exercised.

The more recent wind storm wreaked havoc on two deciduous magnolias that suffered multiple broken branches and a Seven Son Tree that was snapped off at the base. The Seven Son tree is gone, cut up into pieces, but the magnolias will require some repair. The Dr. Merrill magnolia has lost the top fifteen feet of one of two trunks, and the Bigleaf magnolia (Magnolia macrophylla, above) has a number of smaller branches that have broken. Some remain suspended far up into the tree, where they will stay until the wind blows them down some day. Watch out below!

Dr. Merrill will require some surgical repair, but the damage to the Bigleaf magnolia is too far up in the tree to reach, so it will have to heal on its own. Oh well, both trees are surrounded by other trees, and I suspect that in another year I’ll barely notice.

Encore azaleas

‘Autumn Twist’ azalea (below) began with a few scattered blooms early in August, and from the start of September and into mid October there are dozens of flowers clustered at branch tips. Other Encore azaleas hold off until cooler temperatures arrive in mid September before beginning to flower, and these will bloom through the first early frosts, often with a few flowers into early November in my northwestern Virginia garden.

I first planted Encore azaleas to test their cold hardiness, and to see if they would reliably rebloom in late summer and early autumn. My first experience was disappointing, with only a few flowers on azaleas planted in medium shade. I was encouraged by the nursery grower to plant in a sunnier location, and many varieties now bloom in spring and late summer without fail. Now, even the original shaded azaleas have begun to flower dependably.

Along the way I noticed that the Encore azaleas did not suffer lacebug damage nearly to the extent of the old favorites that I planted in my early gardens, ones that I gave up on as their vigor diminished each year. For years I had only a few scattered azaleas remaining in the garden, and I was convinced never to plant another until the Encores were introduced.

I’ve not been converted to an azalea lover, but the Encores are less bother than many other evergreen azaleas, and their extended bloom into early autumn is welcomed when there are few other flowers.

A small deer on a Sunday morning

Sunday was a beautiful morning with sun breaking through the early fog and a bit less chill than the preceding days. My wife and I sipped coffee, read the newspaper, and while discussing the sad state of affairs that is today’s world I noticed a small deer on the slate patio just below our kitchen window. It was nibbling on black mondo grass that borders the patio, and apparently not finding that particularly appetizing, it moved on to sniff one plant, then another without any satisfaction. In a minute the young deer wandered a few steps further and was lost in the jungle of camellias, mahonias, and hydrangeas that surround the house.

Watching through the window I was careful not to make a sound to startle the youngster, and my wife and I searched in vain to see if others were nearby since we often see three or more at a time. I was curious to see if the deer would find any plants to its liking since I last sprayed deer repellent several weeks ago, and as I surveyed that section of the garden later I found a few leaves of a large gold leafed aucuba that had been chewed, half a leaf on an oakleaf hydrangea, and a few tips of the mondo grass.

I will admit that I’ve become a little sloppy in spraying, a little too confident that deer won’t bother the larger shrubs, and I have no doubt that the few branches on the aucuba and hydrangea were missed when I sprayed them. The mondo grass, I don’t think was sprayed at all. So, the damage was negligible, and though I see new tracks through muddy parts of the garden every time I walk through, there has been no significant injury to plants since I began to spray with a repellent several years ago.

And I’ve become lazy. I neglected to spray at all at the start of August, and there’s plenty of blame to go around because I depend on my wife to keep after me, and where was she through the month? In any case, I came to my senses the second week of September when I noticed a few leaves had been nibbled on the ‘Blue Cadet’ hostas that are immediately beside the thicket where the deer rest in the heat of summer afternoons. It had been more than sixty days since I sprayed in early July, and after two months and a dozen inches of rain the repellent finally wore thin. I pledge to be more conscientious in the future, but no real harm was done, and if anything I am more resolute in my belief that deer repellent is the most effective means of protecting the garden.

Every day I hear people complain that deer have eaten this or that, and how their plants choices are so limited. They moan that even supposedly deer resistant plants have been eaten, and how can they have a decent garden? By spraying once each month (when my wife reminds me) from the start of May to October, I have no such troubles.

Fruits and berries in October

A year ago there were abundant juicy red fruits on the Chinese dogwood (Cornus kousa) along the southern border of the garden, but this year there are none. Four other Chinese dogwoods have never had a single fruit, two because they are heavily shaded (I suppose), and the others for whatever reason that is beyond my comprehension.

The fruits are large and red, similar in shape and size to a strawberry, and the Chinese dogwood is frequently listed as a tree for the edible garden. I once saw an aged dogwood loaded with several dozen fruits in a sun baked nursery field in Tennessee, but most often trees that I see have a few handfuls, at best. The fruits must be quite tasty to birds, or whatever wildlife it is that snatches them quickly upon ripening, but when I split one open the unappetizing looking mush dissuaded me from sampling it.

In any case, though the dogwood bloomed heavily in late May, there are no fruits this year. As far as I know, there is nothing that the gardener can do to encourage them, and it is likely that the lack of fruit can be attributed to some weather event that closely followed the tree’s flowering. Maybe next year.

The native dogwoods (Cornus florida, below) have plenty of glossy red berries, though as soon as the leaves drop the birds make short work of them. The berries are much smaller than Chinese dogwood’s, and they are carried in small clusters (usually two to five).

The large berry clusters of Nandina domestica (below) grow at the tips of each branch, and are often so heavy that branches arch under their weight. In mid October some berries remain green, though others are already a brilliant red. Some references state that the berries are favored by birds, but very few are eaten through the winter on ten or twelve large shrubs in my garden. So, either the berries are not as appetizing as claimed, or there are the wrong types of birds in my garden.

Cultivars of nandina in my garden have far fewer berries, so that they are rarely noticed, and I suspect that some have no berries at all.

The fruits of roses are rose hips (above), and their abundance varies by variety. Many of the rose hips have ripened to red now, and few will make it through the winter and not be snatched by birds, squirrels, rabbits, and rodents. 

I have planted a variety of American, Chinese, English, and hybrid hollies in the garden, and most are heavily laden with berries this autumn. Many are still green (Koehneana holly, above), but others have ripened to red (a hybrid holly, below), and through the winter these will slowly disappear as birds eat them.

Right tree, right place

Too often I see properties that have been overwhelmed by a single tree, so that branches block driveways or walkways and must be chopped annually to prevent structural damage. The fault is not with the tree, of course, but in lack of attention in making an appropriate selection years earlier. There is a wealth of information available in books and on the internet, and landscape designers and garden center professionals are willing to consult so that there should be little reason for planting a tree that will grow too large for a property.

The largest trees, and potentially most troublesome for smaller lots, are shade trees. Many of us grew up with maples and oaks (or poplars, elms, and willows), and when confronted with a treeless property and a blazing sun it is quite natural to consider these first. Before you rush to the garden center, stop for a moment and walk the area where you intend to plant. From the point where you will dig the hole take three to four paces in the direction of the house, or the driveway or walk. This is the width of many shade trees in only five years. Walk another three to four paces. This is ten years.

If you have bumped into the house, or walked halfway across the driveway, then a maple or oak is likely not to be an appropriate tree for this setting. I often use a two car garage to help imagine the width that a mature shade tree will grow to. If this is too large, then envision a one car garage. This is the size that many “small” trees grow to become. Some trees are stuck in the middle, such as many flowering cherries that grow only to thirty feet in height, but grow as broad as a maple.

If your pacing has caused you to reconsider your choice of trees then you are on your way to a well designed and functional landscape. Don’t be discouraged. There are plenty of superb choices for smaller properties, and many will grow surprisingly quickly and are quite beautiful. Below is guide (though not all-inclusive) for the size that you can expect trees to grow to in a landscape setting, which is generally a bit shorter than the mature height of a tree in a forest.

Most trees will grow nearly as wide as their height, though there are exceptions such as birch that are much more upright in habit. Some trees have a vase-like form, and so lower branches are more upright so they are less likely to cause a problem with driveways and walks. On the other hand, the branching of some trees becomes more horizontal or even pendulous with age, and these can cause problems that are not easily corrected. Beyond the approximate sizes listed below you should consult references that will detail the growth and form of trees that you are considering.

Large trees – 50 feet or taller

Maples (Acer) – fast growing, shallow rooted. tall growing except Japanese maples.

Oaks (Quercus) – long lived, hard wooded.

Ash (Fraxinus) – beware ash borers. Banned in some areas.

Poplars (Liriodendron) – soft wooded, very tall.

Beech (Fagus) – painfully slow growing, but ultimately a large stately tree.

Birch (Betula) – more upright form allows planting in smaller areas.

Locust (Gleditsia) – more spreading head, filtered, not heavy shade.

Sweet Gum (Liquidambar) – watch out for the seeds.

Evergreen magnolias – usually retain lower branches so that they occupy more space at ground level.

Sycamore/ London Planetree (Platanus) – pollution resistant, great for commercial parking lots.

Bald Cypress (Taxodium) – unique deciduous conifer. Often found in damp areas.

Dawn Redwood (Metasequoia) – a prehistoric deciduous conifer. Fast growing.

Linden (Tilia) – slower growing, but Japanese beetles love them.

Willow (Salix) – many are more broad than tall, short-lived, weak wooded.

Zelkova – some varieties have upright branching.

Medium/ tall trees – 30-50 feet tall

Cherries (Prunus) – the tallest types reach thirty feet, but wider than tall.

Yellowwood (Cladrastis) – unique blooms and foliage, but soft wooded.

Black Gum (Nyssa) – wonderful autumn foliage.

Pear (Pyrus) – research problems with splitting before buying.

Hornbeam (Carpinus) – beware the fastigiate types that spread as they age.

Goldenrain Tree (Koelreuteria) – coarse textured, seeds germinate everywhere, but beautiful.

Katsura (Cercidiphyllum) – Beautiful, heart-shaped foliage. An outstanding selection.

Silverbell (Halesia) – dangling white blooms mid-spring.

Medium trees 20-30 feet tall

Serviceberry (Amelanchier) – often multi trunked, spring blooms.

Hawthorn (Crataegus) upright, often clumping form

Dogwood (Cornus) – most grow nearly as wide as tall. Native dogwoods, Chinese, and hybrids are unsurpassed small flowering trees.

Redbud (Cercis) – more spreading, wider than tall. Many forms, superb trees.

Japanese maples (Acer palmatum) – Bloodgood and other upright growers to 25 feet tall. Incredible leaf form and color.

Crapemyrtle (Lagerstroemia) – some over 20 feet, others under but most have upright form. Long lasting summer blooms, autumn foliage color, and peeling bark.

Magnolias – deciduous types – there are upright and wide spreading, almost shrub-like forms.

Stewartia – perhaps will grow taller in someone else’s lifetime. Slow, but a magnificent flowering tree.

Sourwood (Oxydendrum) – very slow growing, unique lily-of-the-valley blooms and great autumn foliage.

Small trees – under 20 feet

Plum (Prunus) – purple leafed, but Japanese beetles love them.

Crapemyrtle (Lagerstroemia) – many varieties grow 10-16 feet tall, and some below 10 feet. Others are shrubs.

Snowbell (Styrax) – rounded form, covered in small white or pink blooms in early summer.

Crabapple (Malus) – be certain to select disease resistant types.

Fringetree (Chionanthus) – often multi-trunked. Covered in fringe-like white blooms in early summer.

Goldenchain Tree (Laburnum) – Beautiful blooms, but resents heat and humidity.

Japanese maples (Acer palmatum, japonicum, and a few others lumped into the broader category of Japanese maple) – pendulous forms often remain under ten feet tall, but grow as wide or wider than tall.

Please forgive my omissions. There are many other wonderful trees, but I have not included them because they are not as common. If you know of a tree that’s not included then you are likely to know enough about it that you don’t need this brief reference. In my garden I grow Franklinia, Seven Son Tree, a deciduous Big Leaf magnolia that grows to a hundred feet (at least), and a variety of weeping and dwarf trees that will grow no taller than ten feet. I encourage you to explore less common trees, in particular those with unique foliage or blooms that are appropriate for smaller properties. Just because a lot has space to contain a large growing shade tree doesn’t mean that several (or many) smaller trees are not a better choice.

I hope that this brief listing of deciduous trees is useful, but evergreens are misused just as often. I advise the same research in determining mature sizes so that you are not paying for expensive tree surgery a few years from now to make up for mistakes made today.

This garden’s for the birds

The garden did not begin twenty years ago with the intention that it become a wildlife refuge, but intended or not, rabbits, squirrels, and chipmunks are sighted daily, signs of deer are seen everyday, with groups of five or more often seen at dusk. Raccoons, groundhogs, skunks, foxes, and possums are witnessed on occasion, along with turtles, hundreds of frogs, black and garter snakes (every now and then a copperhead), and incalculable  numbers of bees, butterflies, and birds.

There are four small garden ponds and a large pond with perhaps seventy-five koi and goldfish, so there is sufficient water available to encourage wildlife to visit regularly to quench their thirst. A small creek runs along the southern edge of the property, bordered to each side by a narrow strip of mature forest of poplars and swamp maples, a few oaks and beech, with dogwoods, sassafras, and brambles at the margins. Through the years I have planted so that on the acre and a quarter property there are only three small areas of lawn, surrounded by a dense jungle of trees and shrubs, evergreens, and perennials.

By chance rather than design, hundreds (or thousands) of plants bear an abundance of seeds and berries that attract seemingly every bird from two counties away. Whether splashing about in the shallow water above a pond’s waterfall, or darting from branch to branch, their songs and screeches enliven the garden. These are the garden’s residents, I am only a privileged visitor.

Years ago, my wife and I kept a bird feeder filled off and on through the year, but squirrels became such a nuisance that it remains empty. Today, the garden supplies enough water, shelter, and food to attract birds of every feather, though I am hardly competent to identify one from another beyond the common cardinals and robins, and of course the large herons and hawks are easily identifiable.

I have grown blueberries for longer than a decade, but haven’t harvested one for several years since birds readily feast on the berries as they ripen. I considered covering the bushes with nets, but only for a moment, then resigned to purchase my berries from the grocer.

In late spring the abundant white flowers of serviceberry (Amelanchier canadensis) are followed by clusters of edible berries, but birds assure that not one is picked from the tree that arches from the wood’s edge. The grape-like fruits of mahonias (Mahonia beali, above) seldom last long once they have ripened, and the strawberry-like fruits of Chinese dogwoods (Cornus kousa, fruits below) don’t stay for a day once ripe.

The berries of the numerous hollies (Ilex verticillata ‘Winterberry’, above) in the garden are turning to red in early autumn, and birds will feast on them through the winter. Seldom do the berries of hollies or the native dogwood (Cornus florida, berries below), or nutritious rose hips persist beyond January.

The berries of nandina (Nandina domestica, above) and beautyberry (Callicarpa, below) are bountiful, but less favored by birds, and some will remain in early spring, though birds will consume them reluctantly when other food sources are diminished. With the berries and fruits, and copious quantity of seeds from coneflowers and sunflowers, the birds in this garden can afford to be choosy.

Plants in the water gardens

The topic today is plants in the pond, not around the pond, but growing in the water. But first, I must address briefly the plants that surround the pond.

Through the years I have seen many ponds that are intended to mimic a natural water feature, but are left naked, ringed by stones, stark in the absence of plants tumbling over the edges. Today we’ll not discuss specific plants that should be planted near a pond (that is for another day, but hosta and Japanese forest grass are excellent choices for a start, below), but only to emphasize that there must be some, and more are better than less, for in a natural setting the forest’s vegetation often grows right up to the water.

If funds are limited after the pond is constructed I would recommend planting in the soil surrounding the pond, and affording the water plants as a few pennies are found here and there. Fortunately, there is no need to purchase large, or expensive aquatic plants, most grow rapidly (some too quickly), so that the smallest and least expensive sizes available are the most reasonable to purchase.

There are excellent books that  discuss the virtues and categories of aquatic plants, and I have no intention of writing another, so this discussion will be as brief as I can manage. But, I’ve learned a thing or two from my ponds, good and bad, and perhaps this could be the starting point for your research if you decide to explore further.

Floating plants, submerged, marginals, and other aquatics

I do not have any floating plants in my ponds, simply because I have skimmers that draw surface debris that is captured in a leaf net, and floating plants’ roots are not anchored in soil, so they are difficult to keep in place. Duckweed, water hyacinth, and others grow quite rapidly, and will need to be thinned several times through the summer or they will cover the pond’s surface completely. It should be pointed out that water hyacinth is banned in most southern states where it does not die in the winter, and becomes invasive.

Aquatics that grow in shallow water with their roots in the soil are often called marginals, and there are numerous varieties to choose from. There are tall growing marginals with spiky foliage, ones with lower, shrub-like growth, and low growing types. The best results, I believe, are a combination of tall and medium height growers, with low growing types meandering between.

I am particularly fond of Japanese iris (Iris ensata, above), which are wonderful in bloom for several weeks, but also their spiky leaves give the  appearance of cattails without the rapid growth, and are not nearly so tall.

In my large pond (forty by forty five feet) I have planted in a gravel bog filtration area yellow flag iris (below), yellow and white striped acorus varieties, and a variegated-leaf cattail that is not nearly so rapid in growth as the green native type, and each has spread agreeably.

Spreading between the taller cattails and iris are floating hearts (below), with small yellow blooms in mid-summer and a rapid growth rate that must be controlled on occasion with a simple tug to pull the stems that root as they travel. There are a number of similar plants that are useful, though I have had water clover in the past and found that it grew more rapidly and was more difficult to tame. Many submerged aquatics require close attention so that they don’t take over the pond, and though I have none in the ponds today they are essential in ponds without adequate filtration to maintain water clarity.

Most sunny ponds will have a waterlily (below) or two planted in water eighteen inches or deeper, and there is no more splendid bloom in the garden. There are many dozens of varieties, and a bit of research is important to choose the type that does not spread too far for the size of the pond.

Annual or perennial?

Most of the plants in my ponds are perennials, but I enjoy the unique shapes and huge leaves of tropicals in my garden, and so I have planted elephant ears, papyrus, cannas, and calla lilies in the ponds. These can grow quite large, and so are not appropriate for small ponds, but the large leaves contrast nicely with the spiky foliage of iris and cattails, and the dark leaves of some cannas and elephant ears add interesting color contrast.

I don’t grow any tropical waterlilies, but they bloom more regularly and the flowers stand above the water and are more conspicuous. All of the tropicals can be pulled from the water prior to freezing temperatures, and kept through the winter, so that new plants need not be purchased each year.

Plant in a container or in the gravel/mud?

Many of the plants in my ponds are planted in small gravel that covers the pond’s rubber liner, and not in plastic containers. Each year I have the opportunity when I clean the ponds to trim back any excessive growth, and so I don’t have problems with waterlilies or cattails overrunning the pond. There are exceptions, and I would not recommend planting lotus in shallow water without a sturdy container since it can rapidly grow out of control.

In small ponds, and if you prefer not to muck around pulling stray roots each spring, it’s more reasonable to plant your aquatics in containers, and given that you are trying to discourage roots from escaping, the best pots to use have no holes (except for the big one at the top). Also, be aware that the small containers in which aquatics are sold are not adequate except for a short period. Most water plants must be transferred into the wide, shallow pots sold for this purpose so that their roots have room enough to grow, or the roots will quickly slip over the top of the small container.

If this seems too complicated, be assured that it need not be, and in fact I have only a few handfuls of plant varieties in my five ponds. In the largest pond there are only five varieties of perennial aquatics, though there are eight or ten varieties of iris, and in a small pond there might be space enough only for a water lily and a marginal type or two.

No design degree is needed to get the pond planting right, just plant in the correct water depth and the plants will do the rest.

The first of May

The first of May fell on Friday of the week past, so I sprayed the deer repellent for the first time this season on Sunday. The hostas (below) and hydrangeas leafed early this spring with the abnormally warm weather we’ve experienced, and I knew I was taking a chance that the neighborhood deer would rediscover these and other treasures. Apparently deer are creatures of habit, even more so than I am, and since the repellent was regularly sprayed last year they had fallen out of the habit of nibbling on the plants in my garden though they pass through daily.

I was compelled to wait until the first of the month to spray because that is the schedule that my wife has trained me to follow. I am bound by routine such that household bills due any time but the first of the month are always paid late, and fortunately the phone and water companies allow some margin prior to cutting off service and only require a small late fee. By greater good fortune the deer discovered only a few hostas well into the forest that I had nearly forgotten about, but coincidently noticed the day before I intended to spray. Now, all are protected, including the hostas in the woods, safe for another month.

So long as I avoid gazing upon the southern magnolias that were splintered in the winter storms, or in the direction where the large cypress was removed a few weeks ago, I have never been so pleased with the garden (above). Though weeds are abundant most are small and don’t detract from the view of plants blooming whichever way I turn. I will get around to removing the weeds as soon as they make a greater nuisance of themselves.

I have planted gold variegated aucubas, spring flowering camellias (above), more helleborus, and several of the huge gold leafed Sum and Substance hostas in the barren, dry shade area that has not been satisfactory in my twenty-two years working this garden, and at this moment I believe that I’ve made some progress. The old Forest Pansy redbud that overhangs the area has steadily declined as the forest has encroached on its sunlight, and it’s barely hanging on. I could be convinced in a moment to replace it with one of the late blooming Rutgers hybrid dogwoods (Stellar Pink, below), particularly Venus with huge white flowers in early to mid May that would pull the eye towards this dank, darkest part of the garden.

The roots of dahlias (Bishop of York, below), elephant ears, bananas, and other assorted tropicals that were overwintered in bags of dried leaves in the garage have been planted and the pots of tropicals and huge agaves that occupied every partially sunny room in the house have been hauled outdoors. I have added a handful of hardy palms of a modest size, not from four inch pots that would need extra attention to pass through the next winter, so I expect that the back garden will be more of a jungle than in prior years. I don’t expect that any path will be passable or that any of the stone patios will not have the huge leaves of some sort of tropical or another hanging over and annoying my wife. My hope is that at some point she will throw her pruners away that have butchered so many innocent plants, and proclaim that life is too short to fool with such nonsense.

I am perfectly content to push through the enormous blue hosta leaves that block the paths, and I have explained to my wife more times than I can count that it is more pleasing to the eye that the lines of paths and patios should be broken by overhanging leaves. I don’t believe that she disagrees, but her quarrel is over the extent to which the elephant ears flop over the patio, and she figures that a path is intended to be followed without fearing that a snake or other venomous critter lurks under every leaf. I suspect that she is at the least partially correct.

Pity the poor azalea

In today’s garden section of the Washington Post garden writer Adrian Higgins takes the azalea to task, mostly I think, for being so common. I don’t think that he finds any particular fault with them, except that they’re everywhere, and he offers some splendid alternatives. I have a few complaints of my own, and have only a few in my garden, but there’s a nearby garden where azaleas have been planted in groups, ten of one color, then another and another down a long property line. Dogwoods and redbud in bloom are planted at intervals, so the line of azaleas doesn’t become monotonous, and the effect is magical. For several weeks I wish this garden was mine.

Single azaleas in a range of colors planted in close proximity can be jarring to the eye, and I see this too often, but planted in groups, and with some attention to coordinating colors, there are few superior plants in bloom in late April. Yes, azaleas suffer some issues, especially with lacebugs that chew on the undersides of leaves and must be controlled with pesticides to keep foliage attractive. And, in late fall azaleas drop a portion of their leaves, a few or many depending on variety, and so will look quite naked if planted in a prominent location, and particularly at the front of the home.

Of the dozen or two azaleas (Azalea Autumn Twist, above) I planted in this garden over twenty years ago, only a few Delaware Valley Whites remain, four or five paces under the forest’s canopy, but in an area with few competing maple roots. With shallow root competition the other azaleas lasted a few years, as many as ten as they declined each season. The fault, of course, was not with the azalea, but with the designer, the planter who punished these fine plants with a most undesirable location. They are gone now, replaced with shrubs and perennials that will withstand the horrid conditions.

For years I was reluctant to try more, and of course there are many wonderful alternatives, but I was tempted by the promise of azaleas that bloom off and on throughout the spring, summer, and fall, so I planted a dozen varieties of Encore azalea (Autumn Rouge, above), and a year later another ten. I was careful to avoid the dry shade that spelled the doom of the earlier plants, and I planted the Encores in a range of conditions from nearly full sun to heavy shade.  I’ve been both delighted and mildly disappointed.

Delighted by blooms from late April into May (Autumn Royalty, above), and mid September flowers that often last into early November when they are appreciated more because there’s not much else in bloom at the time. Of the twenty or more varieties I’ve tested, not all bloom well in my northern Virginia garden in the foothills of the Blue Ridge. I’ve decided that some are too far north to reset flower buds to bloom a second time, and that a few others are just not vigorous enough to survive without ideal soil and irrigation. The six or seven best varieties are perfectly cold hardy, grow with some vigor, and will bloom dependably twice a year, not spring, summer, and fall as reputed in their advertising which is valid for the deeper south, but not in this area.

I have plenty of blooms in my garden in April, so azaleas are nice, but not essential, and I could easily be persuaded that this or that is a better choice. However, in October and November I am quite pleased to have planted them, and though they’re not the only blooms in the garden at that time, I wouldn’t be without them. A side benefit of Encore azaleas (Autumn Princess, above) is that they are more resistant to lacebugs, so I don’t have to spray pesticides to keep them looking good.

Today there are a number of plants blooming in the garden that are treasured more than azaleas, but throughout the year there are few more valued. I will respectfully disagree with Mr. Higgins evaluation, and wholeheartedly recommend Encore azaleas. And, I wouldn’t mind a grouping of the good, old fashioned Hershey Red below the hydrangeas near the swimming pond’s waterfall, a few more Delaware Valley’s to bring some light into the forest’s edge, a few of the low, compact Chinzan near the stone patio, and ……