Adrienne - ONCE UPON A CONEFLOWER

Making A Garden Plan

Written plans can be as simple or elaborate as you wish

All of us end up revamping our landscape or garden at some point, whether it’s because plants died and need replacing, we’re having hardscape installed, or a flowerbed has become overgrown and needs an overhaul.

Here’s where a written landscape plan is invaluable. If your needs involve significant hardscaping like laying pavers or excavating a retaining wall or pool, you will want to hire a professional. But for simpler garden makeovers, drawing up your own plan is easy, costs nothing and is exceedingly helpful.

This article covers two types of plans: A simple sketch that anyone can do, based on my own plan to refurbish my front bed. And a much more complex plan intended for large properties, or just for fun.

Confusing Spring “Blues”

No, I don’t mean bluegrass music or feeling down in the dumps. I’m talking about spring bulbs featuring racemes of blue florets. Many are members of the scilla family which encompasses 80 to 90 species all by itself. They bloom at roughly the same time and look similar, so it can be challenging to keep them straight.

To make matters worse, many species are interchangeably referred to as squill or hyacinth because their Latin nomenclature is twisted and still unresolved. Subfamilies like bluebells can be further divided into English, Spanish or Virginia. Then there’s chionodoxa, Siberian squill, muscari, true hyacinth, and camassia — all blue, all spring blooming.

Do you know which is which? Does it matter?

Fragrant, Lovely Carolina Allspice

Calycanthus floridus Michael Lindsey in my garden

The first time I smelled a Carolina allspice in bloom was over thirty years ago in the overgrown yard of an abandoned farmstead. The property was near my home in a secluded location, and I often went there on summer walks.

It was an early spring evening. The last of the sun’s rays streamed low through the trees. Unmowed grass lapped at the farmhouse foundations like a weedy ocean, softening its forlorn and empty hulk. Vines climbed through open maws in the stone ruin. It had been decades since anyone had lived there.

Yet the most wonderful scent of ripe strawberry and pineapple filled the air. At first I couldn’t fathom where it was coming from. Apart from a few daffodils there was nothing left of the old garden.