Bloom: Garden Dreams

Think Bloom, Baby

It’s Garden Fantasy Time.

For sure.  I’ve actually put off garden dreaming a little this year (it’s a silly self defense mechanism, this putting dreams off) and I simply can’t stand it any longer… I lost myself in online catalogs today, and I’m ordering tomorrow.  So sometime in April or May, I can have a frantic, joyous two weeks (four weeks? Two months?) of planting.  Like I always keep doing.  See how forward looking I am?  Benefit of gardening, sistah.

Traditionally, late January/early February were my catalog hoarding months.  I carried plant catalogs with me everywhere…on garden irrelevant errands,  like to the movies (so I had something to do while I waited for the previews), the grocery store—even into the bathtub.  I devoured gardening books from the library.  Particularly ones with pictures.  I drew plans.  I started seeds.  And then all spring and summer, I planted and weeded and weathered the sometimes heartbreaking learning curve…for blooms.  Blooms and fruit and foliage.  So worth every obsessed, distressed, and sweaty moment.

And then we moved to Utah and I had to re-think and relearn, because Utah isn’t Washington.  It’s colder for longer here.  And my soil is heavy with clay now, when it used to be a sweet silty loam. And for some reason, starting seed inside has turned sketchy since we moved (I’m willing to admit to tainted karma). These differences amounted to a bit of a blow at first, taking the joy out of catalog season for awhile…but last summer my borders showed familiar miracles, like self-sowing lavender (we hauled in sand for the lavender), prolific pumpkins… and the amazing tenacity of zinnias thinned almost to nonexistence by grasshoppers.  Seriously.  The last few standing zinnias bloomed brave and beautiful…my floral war heroes.  Some cuttings I’d taken of wild currants even took last summer…truly miraculous, because I’m not great at starting plants from cuttings (hope they survived the winter!).  Remembering the miracles, I am hopeful enough to fantasize and even plan for more blooms.

Here’s some of my favorite picks… a few favorites I’m growing now or will be this season:

Luscious and Lively

(Grapes courtesy of…umm, not sure. Zinnias: Wildseed Farms).
I want grapes to grow on arbors. Grapes are both beautiful and delicious…I am definitely into ornamental edibles in my landscape. And the zinnias…they are tireless and bright when everything else is fried by summer’s heat. I love these red ones for the cheerful splash of color they throw in my otherwise purple/blue/pink/sometimes yellow scheme.

Perfectly Purply

(Verbena, Wildseed Farms. Salvia & Penstemon, High Country Gardens. Siberian Iris, Whiteflower Farms)

Purple is my neutral, my backdrop. I use a lot of it, and I love it. All of these plants work hard and are adaptable enough to grow in my clayey soil here. Clockwise, top left to bottom left: moss verbena, salvia, Siberian iris, penstemon

Sun and Shadow

(Wildseed Farms)
Foxglove can take fairly deep shade here, and seems to tolerate quite a bit of sun as well. I LOVE foxglove. It is a fantastical bloom…Freckles? Really? One year, a white foxglove had a spike of blooms that was more than a foot long, on a stem that was about as tall as I was. The Drummond phlox is easy to grow from seed, directly sown right in the ground (foxglove is easy too), and it is so cheerful and bright without crowding anyone else.

Heirloom Roses

(by Heirloom Roses)



I prefer very fragrant, old fashioned roses. So far, some are surviving ok here…the jury is still out. This is Rebbecca Louise, Distant Thunder, April Love, and Zephirine Drouhin.

Fragrance and Fairytale

(Crabapple: Forest Farm, Parrotia: Forest Farm, Viburnum: Bluestone Perennials)

More fragrance in the crabapple…A touch of paradise in the parrotia, and…I just really like viburnums.

Grass, Ornamentally

More grass from High Country Gardens. Ornamental grasses do shrub duty in my borders. I love them.

Lavender Past

In a past life, I had a field of lavender. I am passionate enough about it to risk planting it here, where its feet can potentially get wet. Berms help.

What will  your garden grow this year? Are you Thinking Bloom Yet?