The third in a series of "Family Portraits" from Oak Lawn

As common as hemerocallis may be, it can be difficult
to work them into a design. Oftentimes it is
repetition within a range of colors that make them
work. Other times, as in the case of the seedling
pictured here, specimen status can be what makes
them appropriate to a particular garden scene.

As we roam the paths of our gardens we are often struck that we have achieved a certain rhythm, measured by the ebb and flow of textures and layers of planting materials. It's the relationship between the longs and shorts both  vertically and horizontally, the stressed as well as the unstressed syllables that are the plants themselves that bring our design to fruition. This series of posts is not about  the big view, rather it's about the smallest units of our design... the individual blooms or foliage of the plants themselves that serve as the specific notes that are the building blocks of our garden song. Without good choices at this level, the overall design is doomed to being deemed ordinary. Here then are a few more of the players... our garden's 'family' as shown in these 'family portraits...

Whether speckled, picoteed, or oddly colored, the hellebores pretty much bloom alone in our climate for much of their bloom period, thus creating the case for drifts of them rather than spotting them about.

We are not big fans of most self seeders... our desire to control our bit of nature does not allow us to appreciate this trait in a lot of 'over-achieving' plants. Brunnera is a different matter altogether... the soft blue blooms are welcome wherever they show up, and the fuzzy foliage makes for great textured groundcover throughout the season.

When we focus our attention, or the camera lens for that matter, on a small gathering of magnolia blooms, we are impressed with the 'mystery' they create... it's interesting that mystery is such an important aspect of the overall garden design, and yet its power to enthrall can occur in what is essentially a small bouquet of
 'like-minded' blooms.

Sometimes it's the stories told, and the providence based on obscure memories from our youth, that
afford a particular plant 'star status' in our eyes... such are the trilliums that attended the maturation of
 so many who grew up anywhere near a woodland.

When we first came across gentiana acaulis, we were led to believe that it was a very fussy plant, needing replanting in the ground within a couple hours time or it would be lost... then one day a friend showed up with a second division and a wonderful relaxed attitude about transplanting it. We are so pleased that anything this amazingly blue could be this easily dealt with in the garden... its color reminds one of the salt water fish aquarium next to the fresh water aquarium... it's truly a vision to behold!

There simply are never enough tulips in our gardens... while we try to choose ones that perennialize well, we are sometimes powerless over the spell cast by cultivars such as 'Angelique' pictured below...

Lewisia is another passion but can be hard to locate in our area... we've learned to grow them in hyper-tuffa and keep them safely dry in an unheated garage over the winter... still they dwindle for us time goes on from one year to the next. There is more to learn and more to experiment with... we find the internet can offer conflicting information on care and we realize we must experiment for ourselves, attempting to use a modicum of good judgement gained from over forty years of gardening.

So often a dying tree puts out its most amazing bloom as it attempts to recreate itself. Prunus avium 'Plena' is the perfect example of this in our gardens. To see the southwest side of its sizable trunk, you would wonder how it remains vertical in the storms that often lash our gardens... but somehow it does and bloom it must. We wonder when it will be time for it to go, and we consider the amazing trees that could replace it, but we are in no hurry. Thinking about our large prunus is bitter sweet, reminding us of elderly friends through the years who suddenly developed an overpowering desire to intensely garden, only to have waited too long to accomplish their desire... thankfully our tree is consistently meeting the high standard it has set for itself in its old age and that brings us comfort.

Pelargoniums are a conundrum for me... being annuals in our gardens one might expect masses of blooms, but more often than not that is not the case and yet our minds associate them with overflowing window boxes on the sides of chalets set amongst beautiful mountain scenery. What we do understand however, is that they can display some of the most amazing colors and they practically take care of themselves, even hanging in baskets from the arbor. It is with anticipation that we will try them once again this season... a new variety... perhaps better suited to lush and plentiful blooms, although we must acknowledge... even a single stem of pelargonium is a bouquet of great beauty.

Verbascum 'Banana Custard'... the name alone can make our mouths water in anticipation. Who are these amazing people that take a road side weed (not unattractive in itself, but a horrible self seeder) and turn that weed into a seven foot giant that clothes itself in literally hundreds of almost two inch blooms of the most special shade of yellow, renewing itself for weeks and yet never taking over the garden with seedlings... we want to give these people a 'way to go!'...

How many of us have fond memories of eight foot tall hollyhocks growing against someone's Grandma's fence... gardening is in great part an exercise in recreating the beautiful moments in our lives. We love hollyhocks but in our humid climate they often fall victim to rust which denudes their lower stems, and do they ever self seed with long tap roots that cause our backs to rebel when we have to remove them, lest our gardens be nothing but hollyhocks... again we sing the praises of the hybridizer who has brought us Alcea 'Fiesta Time', only three foot tall and as pretty as any face we've ever seen in any garden.

We pay homage to the dinnerplate dahlias for it is they that really class up our August into September gardens... that is, if we do our part and properly stake them. Can you believe that such things as these are even a real possibility... we stand in awe... such beauty doesn't seem feasible.

Staking is not a favored pastime... our avocation is to create an environment of beauty with the least work possible, for if we dealt with these two acres in any other way, we'd never catch up... in fact it often seems that way despite our efforts to simplify. HOWEVER... there are some in our garden family that so amaze us that we go to whatever means is necessary to adopt them into our midst... delphiniums that grow to towering heights are just that sort of plant... they are simply 'worth it'.

Perhaps our sense of smell is lacking in some way... why else would we do all in our power to create a 'fragrance zone' every July with hundreds of orienpet lilies such as 'Maywood' spread throughout the gardens... while some are fullfilled with a gentle scent from some diminuitive garden bouquet, we demand that the air we breath be overwhelmed with the perfume of clumps of eight foot lilies... it is such as this that sustains us through the long winters here in the upper midwest...

... but we do have our quiet moments as well, as in these just developing leaves of 'Tobiosho'. As gardeners, we are prone to manic and frenetic moments of overwhelming excitement although we don't consider ourselves emotionally unstable... it's just that the plant world is so overwhelming... stimulating, even in its quiet times... we can't imagine ever getting tired of doing what we do...
Take care, Larry