Defining Space in the Garden

This tree, a Fullmoon maple, Acer japonicum, outgrew its barrel last year so I planted it in the ground. Sitting just north of our kitchen window the buds catch the rays of the rising sun coming from the right. Looking at, or more accurately, through the buds, forces us to orient ourselves. The buds themselves are spatially disposed in a pattern determined by the genetics of the plant and its interaction with its environment. As we move and our viewpoint shifts, the buds move in relation to each other making us acutely conscious of our location and our proximal relation to the plant. Hey, try it! Its easier to see than to explain. At least for me!

We don't normally choose plant material for its buds, but if winter interest is important, as it is in highly visible locations, having interesting buds can be a factor in our selection. The buds of the more common Japanese maple, Acer palmatum, and its innumerable cultivars are attractive but lack the size and the white hairs of these buds, and for that reason the Full moon maple is sometimes a better choice.Other plants that display this wonderful three dimensional array of buds include flowering dogwoods and many deciduous azaleas.

This is one of many many things to consider if you are designing or redesigning your garden. An analogous definition of space can be done with plants that have horizontal saucer shaped inflorescence (flat heads, like lace-cap hydrangeas for example). Planted alongside a path that changes elevations, our changing view of the flat flower-heads emphasizes our vertical movement.

2008 Spring in Washington

I guess dogs long for warm days as much as we do. My wife and I are both horticulturists and both avid gardeners, indoors and out; our choice of this house 20-odd years ago was due in no small part to all the south-facing glass in the living room. We get essentially sun all day in the winter when it is low in the sky. As summer approaches and the arc of the sun moves higher in the sky, it rises above the overhang so no rays reach inside. Perfect! Jingles is looking out at the beginning of spring following the mildest winter in my memory. I surely don't know all the factors that go into determining the severity of a winter, but this year a lot of things that I associate with late January or February didn't happen: Japanese boxwoods and many cryptomeria didn't discolor; the Opuntia at the entrance to Fern Valley didn't melt out; My Acanthus mollis retained a green rosette all winter, in fact many rosettes that usually brown off towards the end of winter are still fairly large and green. The low temperature for the winter at my house was 16F. Following up this mild winter though, spring seems to be starting out slowly; the 15 day forecast has many lows in the high 30's and no highs in the 70s. Thats good. Every year it seems that winter goes straight to summer. It looks like we will have at least some spring this year!


Clearly the southern exposure allows us to grow way too many indoor plants. About half of the plants you see in this picture are orchids and the balance is an assortment including some exciting specimens I am amassing to take south next month: a couple of proteas (there is no phosphorus in that sand and we'll see about the humidity); some cool monocots including, from a California nursery, Australian Native Plant Nursery, Xanthorrhoea x preissii ; two Puya from Annie's Annuals; and more monocots from Yucca Do Nursery including a nice Dasylirion and Agave stricts, my favorite globular yucca. If you look closely in middle of the large window next to the glaucous succulent, you can see the Magnolia champaca from the Philadelphia Flower Show. I think I will grow that on for another year in a 12" pot. Then it will go to Zone 9A.