Sunday, February 11, 2018

Planning For Spring

Catalog Covers
The overstuffed mailbox or the reassuring thud at the front door means that the spring garden catalogs have arrived.  They may not be harbingers of the season, but they will definitely help dispel winter’s gloom.

I’m far enough along in my own garden now to be able to resist wanting everything I see or read about, regardless of site orientation, sunlight, or zone suitability.  I now accept that I have only one partially sunny border and a backyard bordering on a hostile environment –- deep shade compromised by black walnut trees.  For the record, a new villain has been added. Verticillium wilt has killed off 4 of my 6 key Japanese maples, limiting the plant palette even further.

A brief sidebar here: verticillium wilt is a fungal disease caused by soil-borne pathogens.  There is no cure, and a stricken plant dies quickly, one large section at a time. There are only a limited number of plants that can be used in infected soils, and our maples have been replaced with sweet gums.  But more on verticillium wilt later; this post is supposed to cheer the reader.

Back to the catalogs: some of the best nurseries are now Online Only.  As fine as they are, these are not my favorites. I am a print person and like to carry my catalogs around, sitting or lying down whenever the mood strikes me, and marking them up as I go along.  But for those of you happy to look at tiny pictures on your iPhone, don’t miss Digging Dog Nursery.  It is among the most user-friendly: easily understood icons, plus a drawing of a camera leading you to a photograph when there is one available.  I’m ordering from them for the first time this year.

In the past I’ve bought as much as I can from our local nurseries, and with excellent results.  I have no complaints.  But when your garden is as small as mine, and with many site restrictions, the gardener tends to look further afield for more varieties to try.  That’s when the nuance of a really good catalog grabs you by the throat.

My current favorites are Roots and Rhizomes, Bluestone Perennials and Brent and Becky’s Bulbs; the last because it was the favorite of a much admired gardener on Staten Island, Muriel Peters, who specializes in daffodils.  

Roots and Rhizomes takes the award for the most beautiful cover design –- a garden in itself.  It specializes in daylilies with more than 160 photographed and described; it is a dream for the daylily collector.  I am not one, but instead have ordered several Siberian iris, a stalwart in my garden.

Bluestone’s list is wide and deep.  Twenty agastaches, 14 fall anemones, a few bergenias and brunneras, more than 30 clematis, 28 coreopsis, and I’ve only worked my way through the C’s. Skipping ahead, I found hollyhocks available in single colors instead of the usual offering of mixed colors in other catalogs.  I’m planning on yellow and black for my only south-facing fence.

I remain loyal to White Flower Farms because it was a first love. I always order a few things, although I find the catalog confusing and jumbled.  The nursery was started in the late 1940’s by William Harris and his wife Jane Grant, both journalists in New York City but weekenders in Litchfield, Connecticut. Their passion for gardening eventually became a small business in a time when American gardening was non-existent as an industry, and when there was virtually no interest in new plants or garden design.  They published a small, highly readable catalog under the pseudonym of Amos Pettingill to distinguish this work from their mainstream careers.  The nursery was sold in 1976, following Ms. Grant’s death, to Eliot Wadsworth, whose family I believe still runs it today.  This year I ordered a bi-colored honeysuckle to add to the arbor. 

Logee’s catalog is for the northeastern gardener who has run out of things to do and plants to try and is willing to take a risk on tropicals.  A Massachusetts gardener I know well grows banana trees outdoors, carrying them up two flights of stairs when the cold weather sets in to give them a warm room.  I am not going that far, but I am rethinking my side trash yard as a piazetta.  It borders on delusions of grandeur but I don’t think it will be extravagant enough to qualify as certifiably delusional. This fall I brought in my few oxalis and one lone plumbago which was glorious during the summer.  This year I will order a few more tropicals and think seriously about the possibility of wintering them in the basement.  Unfortunately I don’t have a greenhouse or a sunroom, only the relatively inhospitable basement. But maybe with growlights and a timer…

If you garden only in the shade, eat your heart out over David Austin’s Handbook of Roses 2018. He lists a few that are suitable for less than full sun, but does not offer an old rose, Betty Prior, which I remember with love and longing but can’t seem to find anywhere. 

Of course, in the end, the quality of the nursery lies not in the catalog but in the material delivered.  If the material does not arrive in good condition no finely designed or beautifully photographed catalog can make up for disappointment.  I’ll report back on deliveries, successes, and failures as the season progresses.  In the meantime, take your catalogs as the best medicine to get through a long winter. We can always dream… and order.