As the year winds down, I like to reflect on how the garden has fared over the year: What did well, what struggled, what I’m most (or least) happy about. While disappointments are instructive, I make a point of focusing on the positives. A garden is supposed to be a source of happiness and relaxation, after all.
Come along as I riffle through the archives for lessons and highlights from every month of the year. If you’d like to know more, each entry is followed by related in-depth articles.
And now for a look back, starting with last January…
January 2023
The new year surprised me with an early display of Jelena witchhazel on January 19. An uncharacteristic warm spell prompted it to open almost a month earlier than usual. The tree is young and small but its floral output was lovely nonetheless. Placing it in front of a holly was a good idea; the holly’s greenery sets off the flowers nicely, which otherwise might get lost in the landscape.
I was especially pleased to see Jelena’s coppery ribbons because the tree suffered from “buck rub” the year before. I didn’t expect it to survive, frankly. I had forgotten to protect the trunk with a plastic tube as I usually do. It’s too late now, but the bountiful flowers give me hope it will persevere; only time will tell.
Jelena’s bracing fragrance is so uplifting when everything else is dormant. On sunny days I make a point of going outside just to inhale its sweet camphorous scent. It’s a wonderful winter pick-me-up!
Related Articles: Which witchhazel? Take Your Pick
February
Flocks of bluebirds usually show up in February, and this year was no different. I was glad for my dwarf hollies, both for the birds to feast on and my own visual relief. The dense foliage and red fruits, if there are any left, really do offset the dreary browns and greys. Hollies make excellent windbreaks for companion perennials as well as for the birds.
On the other hand, my Red Sprite winterberries didn’t form any fruit at all this year. Evidently a late frost killed off the flowers in spring, as I’ve had good fruit output in previous years (see photo from 2022). Climate change is wreaking havoc on the natural rhythms of so many plants. Berries of all kinds are an important food source for wildlife, especially songbirds like bluebirds because they don’t eat seeds. I hope next year brings the winterberries back!
Related Articles: Feeding Bluebirds in Winter ; Plant A Winter Buffet for BIrds
March
There’s nothing more welcoming than hellebores flowering in March! Started from plugs just five years ago, this collection has matured and now blooms prolifically from earliest spring through June. I’m especially pleased they’re doing well under this big old spruce, where the soil is clogged with tree roots.
I really don’t need to change a thing in this bed. In time the hellebores will completely carpet the ground here, creating a carefree groundcover. I just need to remember (in early March) to remove the winter-killed foliage before the buds open.
Related: Hardy Hellebores
April
April is when peeping bulbs and spring ephemerals suddenly thrust forth into rivers of color and scent. Three years ago I planted a few Virginia bluebell plugs in the back of property and hoped for the best. They’ve been slow to establish and deer snacking didn’t help. But last April they managed to form a modest patch and bloomed. Now if I can only keep them going and spreading…and the deer away from the buds! Note to self: Net these as soon as they break dormancy!
Our native bluebells are my favorite spring wildflower, probably because I remember carpets of them not far from my childhood home. These days, bluebells are dwindling in the wild as fields and hedgerows get sold off and developed. If you’ve got the right conditions, plant a patch of Virginia bluebells and help save this native beauty in Pennsylvania.
Related: Confusing Spring Blues
May
Of course by May, the garden is in full swing with multitudes of flowers in bloom at once– how do I choose a favorite!
Probably the biggest success story this year were the peonies. It’s been six years since I planted a dozen varieties, and they’ve matured into virtual color machines. Pinks, whites, bicolor swirls, singles, even Itoh yellow and coral satins. But which was the best?
It has to be lactiflora peony Sparkling Star. She really outdid herself, eliciting compliments from passing walkers and neighbors. Exuberant in every respect, this brilliant pink and gold blowsy single is the first peony to open. Multitudes of buds unfurl in waves, starting in late March and continuing well into May. In fact this photo was taken May 25!
Related: Peony All-Stars
Wait, no foxgloves?
Perhaps my biggest disappointment of 2023 was realizing last year’s dozens of foxgloves digitalis purpurea did a very poor job of reseeding, leaving me with next to nothing for this year. Being biennial I knew there would be very few if any flowers this year. And yes, my worst fears were realized: only 1 or 2 meager plants produced flowering spikes.
I don’t know what happened. I certainly left enough seedheads to ripen but evidently they didn’t take or got washed out. I immediately purchased several second-year plants and made sure they set seed, so now I have 6 to 8 plants maturing for next year, assuming they survive the winter. I really missed their towering presence! Note to self: I’ve got to pay better attention to foxglove reseeding.
I did, however, have a small showing of rusty foxgloves, or digitalis ferruginea. They are daintier in every respect than purpureas but no less lovely. This was their first year in bloom and I have to say, they have a sweet charm all their own. I made sure not to deadhead them and didn’t mulch under them so they could reseed…which they did, modestly.
Related: Growing Foxgloves
Iris, a love-hate relationship
I guess I would describe my iris output as mixed. Several bearded iris put on a decent show but overall they were not as prolific as usual. That is likely because they got leaf spot the year previous and lost significant vigor, plus they needed dividing and I didn’t get around to it.
Unfortunately 2023 was even worse for bacterial and fungal diseases like leaf spot. Bearded iris are high maintenance anyway, and having to cull ugly foliage all summer was not fun. I divided them in hopes of reinvigoration, but no promises. Certainly if the leaf spot and blighting continues, I will have to rethink whether bearded iris are really worth the effort. I did transplant some Siberian iris which seem more tolerant than beardeds in every respect– we’ll see how they do in 2024.
Related: Controlling Leaf Spot ; Intriguing Iris
June
June is by many accounts, the showcase month for Pennsylvania gardens. Everything is in flower, days are long and temperatures moderate. In early June my garden glowed with deep purple Salvias Caradonna and May Night, lavender catmint Walker’s Low and blue bellflower Telham Beauty (but sadly no foxgloves).
What stood out instead was yellow peony Garden Treasure peeking out from behind the purples, a surprisingly pleasant combination. I may introduce more yellow to play up this look. Yellow columbine? Geums? Moonlight coreopsis? I’ll have to give it some thought. Note to self: Research some soft yellow companions for purple salvia.
I was also pleased with the novelty allium Schubertii. This was the first year for a grouping of them in my main perennial bed, and they didn’t disappoint. Resemblng sparklers, the flowerheads radiate an explosion of tiny stars on long shoots on a stout stem. Dotted around in the main perennial bed, these unusual bulbs added whimsy and texture. Plus, they’re a great conversation starter!
Related: Versatile Alliums
July
July is usually hot and humid, the hottest month of the year in this part of Pennsylvania. But 2023 wasn’t bad compared to many other parts of the country; we were lucky. Still, it was hot. While we slow down the garden does not. Coneflowers open, daylilies paint the town, sunny meadows thrive. Despite the heat, some of my favorite plants looked and smelled simply wonderful in July. The side bank was also ablaze with color.
But it’s the hydrangeas, specifically Quickfire, that I want to highlight. Many lacecaps and oakleafs are fragrant in the morning, when the tiny fertile flowers first open. Next to the house and path, my 4 Quickfires fill the air with a sweetness that’s impossible to describe. Not only are the white flowers breathtakingly pristine in July, I love to drink in that ravishing scent. Heaven!
Related: Choosing Hydrangeas
While my double tiger lily Flora pleno (above) was late to open, it did not produce quite as well as it did in 2022, primarily due to root rot. But the display did last longer than usual for which I was grateful. That is because the rest of the bed didn’t live up to the year before. Unlike in July 2022, this year’s overall look was not nearly as spectacular. Admittedly, last year’s output was hard to beat, as the photo below demonstrates.
As every gardener knows, a garden often changes inexplicably from year to year, even without moving plants. Less-than-stellar years are to be expected. This year the phlox were late to open and I had to divide a number of things the previous fall, so the look was just… different. Accepting the evolution and adapting is all part of the process.
Related: The True Lilies
August
By August my garden starts to wind down except for the anemones and a few asters. But I was pleasantly surprised by this late summer-flowering allium called Millenium. Short and sassy, it resembles chives on steroids. It’s the perfect small plant for rock gardens and low borders. Vivid green, liriope-like foliage doesn’t yellow even after bloom.
Clean, perky and cute, Millenium opened in July and kept going till the very end of August. I liked it so much I planted more bulbs this fall. Millenium is a versatile choice, super easy to grow and vastly under-utilized, so I wanted to be sure to mention it. You might like it too.
Related: Versatile Alliums
September
One of my favorite hummingbird mints, Ava’s, is finally back! It’s an agastache hybrid exclusively bred by High Country Gardens. You won’t find this one at the local nursery; you need to order it direct from the grower. A lovely cultivar as you can see above, it’s worth the effort to seek out and keep going. Butterflies adore it too. There are similar cultivars in the mail order catalogs, so try those if you can’t find Ava’s.
I lost my first batch of Ava’s after their third year a few years ago; after two years without it, the specimen above was one of three plants I ordered in spring. Now, fingers crossed they survive the winter. Ava’s has a rather airy habit, so plant several to ensure it shows up well. Ava’s and Blue Fortune both help the hummers “tank up” for their long migration…so don’t overlook these if you have hummingbirds. They will certainly stop by for a sip.
Related: Hummingbird Mint Isn’t Just for the Birds
October
The last of the anemonies are over, roses are sputtering, and ornamental grasses are waving high. Used to be, October was peak foliage month here but not anymore; now it’s November. But October still has wonderful leaf color, not to mention the mums and asters.
Here, a dwarf ginkgo Goldspire is turning brilliant yellow in front of a red-burgundy oakleaf hydrangea, dark spirea, a smoke tree, and orange witchhazel. I deliberately juxtaposed these shrubs for a fall color contrast, and I’m quite pleased with the result. But it did require some post-planting manipulation.
This was the first year the ginkgo turned yellow instead of an insipid yellowish green. Before, the smoke tree shaded it too much, affecting its leaf color. So last fall, I cut the smoke tree to the ground (called coppicing) to allow the ginkgo to get more sun. Clearly it paid off. By the time the smoke tree recovers its height, the ginkgo should be larger and better able to compete. Success!
November
I’m an unabashed fan of November’s low light levels, damp atmospheric air, the intense color on overcast days. As flowers die and leaves pile up, here’s where good planning pays off: well placed structural elements like shrubs, grasses and trees provide a whole new level of interest.
While I did try hard to plan for off-season interest, in practice it came together far better than I envisioned. Call it luck, serendipity, planning, having an artist’s eye…they all played a part and I couldn’t be more pleased. The colors say it all.
In the foreground, Amsonia hubrictii glows gold against blue-needled Korean fir Silberlocke, accented by ruby Orange Rocket spirea and deep blue-green Serbian spruce. Funny how it sometimes takes years for everything to mature and come together; that’s the case here.
December
It’s December and what’s in bloom? The Christmas Rose, helleborus niger Jacob. As its name implies this hellebore blooms on the “front end” of winter rather than the back end, when the more popular Lenten Rose hellebores take over. Opening around Thanksgiving, Jacob braves chilly fall nights until January’s frigidity finally does it in.
Large and white with a beautiful gold boss, Jacob really lights up the holidays. They are heavy bloomers too. I definitely need a few more, as two plants are still not enough to make a visual impact. But so stunning in pure white– a chorus of them would look wonderful along the drive. Note to self: order more Jacob hellebores...if I can find them!
Whew! That’s the past year in reflection. Now I can plan confidently for the season ahead. I hope you take the time to do the same, and enjoy those mail order garden catalogs this winter. Happy armchair gardening!
