The Garden Speaks in Colors

The garden speaks to us in colors — green, white, blue, yellow, and pink — and draws our emotions into itself. Traditionally, colors say something to us, and maybe that is why we respond so strongly to the arrival of spring. The garden is hushed in winter, but its voice sings out with the new season. 

Many shades of green push through gray branches and brown soil to announce rebirth and renewal. One can stand in the garden and feel the optimism of spring, the soothing reassurance that life endures.

This April view from the patio features the fresh green foliage of roses, weeping Japanese maple, and daylily.
Clockwise from top left: leaves of dogwood, cornus florida; variegated hydrangea, macrophylla Variegata; Japanese painted fern, Athyrium niponicum var. pictum; hosta 'Francis Williams'

The purity of spring impresses us, its newness untouched by disease or wear or damages of time. White shines in the garden, fresh and clean. In the garden I am young and my soul eternal.

The blossoms of Philadelphus coronarius, sweet mock orange or English dogwood, light up this area adjacent to the lady garden.Clockwise from top: Rosa rugosa var. alba; Viburnum macrocephalum; closer view of Philadelphus coronarius; Azalea, snow white

The garden speaks of peace, too, with images of blue. Cares are light in this place, and for a time they fly away and leave our hearts at rest.

The daffodils ars spent, but blue phlox divaricata still blooms in the front garden.Clockwise from top left: Mr. Bluebird stands guard at his home near the lady garden; Oregon grape, mahonia aquifolium; Hosta sieboldiana elegans; a lizard with a touch of blue lives in this planter on my patio.

All the golden hues of the garden, the yellows and oranges, represent energy, comfort and pure joy. Smile, for there is much to smile about in the garden.

For many years this lone tulip has returned each spring to the front garden. I am always happy to see it, for most tulips don't survive in my climate.
Clockwise from top left: Pansies are still blooming; golden oak pollen covers this yellow sedum; variegated leaves of Cherokee Red dogwood; foliage of caryopteris 'Jason'

And then there is pink, a color that speaks of friendship. Is a garden complete, if there is no one with which to share it? Come with me, my friend. Let us walk together and listen to what the garden has to say.This very old urn belonged to my parents. Behind it is dianthus 'Bath's Pink'.
Clockwise from top left: pink fringe-like flowers of lorapetalum; Azalea 'George Lindley Tabor'; unknown flower growing in the lady garden; Rosa mutabilis

You may also like No Skeletons at This Party.

Foxgloves Are For You, Maybe

In the Old World there were fairies who befriended the creatures of the forest. Sympathetic to the plight of foxes, they made gloves of a woodland flower for them to wear when they raided local hen houses, making it easier to sneak in without being heard. And so the locals began to call that flower "foxglove".

Digitalis purpurea, a native of Ireland, gets its scientific name from the latin words for finger and purple, which describe the shape and color of this common form. An extract of a yellow species, digitalis lanatae, is used for digoxin, a heart medication which increases contractility of the heart and slows the heart rate. Remember that all foxgloves are highly toxic if ingested.

This beautiful flower grows two to five feet tall in moist, acid soil in sun to partial shade, zones 4-8. They sometimes live in zone 9 if given plenty of moisture and no afternoon sun. If you want to kill a foxglove, plant it in an exposed area with poor soil! While there are perennial forms, most foxgloves are biennial, meaning they grow the first year, then flower and produce seed the next, then die. I have had a number of foxglove volunteers in my garden, but I usually buy a few each year to add to their numbers. Foxgloves can be propagated by either seeds or division in early spring. My dream is to have a path through the woods, surrounded on both sides with foxgloves. It hasn't happened yet. I think my soil is a little too lean and dry in the summertime for them to truly prosper.

The taller foxgloves may need staking. I use thin strips of old panty hose to tie mine to slender bamboo stakes, painted dark green for camouflage. It is worth the bit of extra work to keep them upright. (The stretchy fabric of old hosiery also makes a great tie for other plants that require staking.)

With good growing conditions, foxgloves are a wonderful addition to a woodland or cottage setting. Beware, however, if you have pets or children that might eat them. And watch out if you have a hen house!