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

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Winter's essence in the garden

The essence of winter is in its shapes and its textures, in its stripped down bareness and honesty. It is in its monochromes and its contrasts, dark against light, warm hearth, frozen water. It is the slap to our senses as we inhale the sharp air or feel the icy hand of the wind push against us.

Winter has come to Alabama, with temperatures dropping into the teens this week. The sky on Sunday morning was cold blue, with rows of clouds marching forward, and the trees raised their dark branches to salute the day.

Walking through the garden, I was aware of some things I may have overlooked in another season. 

A large piece of driftwood has been in the yard since we moved here in 1985.  I like the curving shape of it, and I will miss it when it finally rots away.

I admired the colors of a rock, patterned with lichens.

A bird house in a dogwood tree awaits spring tenants. One summer this bird house had a green lizard as its occupant.

The dried heads of 'Limelight' hydrangea will provide winter interest until spring.

The peeling bark of Betula nigra, river birch is amazing.

Not everything is bare. There are many evergreens. I featured some of them in my post, Evergreens, the regents of winter. A few others, shown below, include:

upper left - 'Saybrook gold' spreading juniper. This beautiful plant is planted on a hillside to take advantage of its weeping branches. I love its golden color.

upper right - Spreading yew grows twice as wide as it is tall. It has deep green needles.

lower left - Osmanthus fragrans, tea olive, is a shrub growing to about ten feet. Even now its fragrant flowers are beginning to bloom. 

lower right -Autumn fern. This is a tough, evergreen fern, which survives with minimal care in the woodland garden. New growth has copper highlights, which gives it its name.

There is another evergreen that I don't own yet, but I have been looking for a place for one in my garden ever since last year when I visited Biltmore Estate in North Carolina. This weeping blue atlas cedar captured my heart with its form and color. A plant like this has to be put in the right place. This one is sited perfectly. It echos the curve of the tree limb above it, and the smaller plant below it echos that shape again. Notice, also, how the curve is repeated in the walkway and how the tree's blue color is repeated in the bench on the right. Fabulous!

Stay warm, everybody, and may you enjoy the essence of winter.  Deborah