GardenRant

Why would I pull out the best-performing rose I've ever grown? The answer is simple: I don't have the space to allow a plant that performs - albeit magnificently - only for a few weeks per season to remain in a prominent position. Especially when my garden is widely viewed during those months when it is not as active. Goodbye, David Austin Lady of Shalott. Hello, mix of mid- and late-season perennials of some easy-care type. Sometimes, it doesn't matter as much.

Much to my shame I cannot draw. Give me a pencil and a ruler and there's a moderate to fair chance I can give you a straight line, but beyond that I am hopeless. I like the idea of paints and pastels but there's absolutely no way that I could produce something worthy of being called art, even by the sometimes rather eyebrow-raising modern concepts of what constitutes creative beauty.

I bet you all share my appreciation for gardeners willing to put their garden - no matter how new or still developing - on tour. For free or for a good cause. So I thank the gardeners near me who recently opened their front yards - all with at least 50% native plants - for visitors. I was eager to see if any could be added to these mostly native front yards with no lawn. As for this first one - definitely! No lawn, all beds, with a wide woodchip path across the space.

We've all got plants we really love. Probably hundeds of them. And maybe some we hate and banish as soon as spotted. But what about the inbetween ones, which we have but are not sure about? I'm noticing several. One is a British native, which is no doubt how it found its way to me. The Royal Horticultural Society describe it thus: "Robust, attractive and easy to grow, this native perennial is ideal for mixed planting schemes.

What do you do when your best/worst frenemy wins a major award? Especially one who took a GardenComm Gold Medal out from under you a few years ago in head to head competition for Best Magazine Column, which I would have forgotten about by now if this said frenemy wouldn't keep reminding me of?

I'm not into 'trigger warnings' and the suchlike, but this article is going to cover the challenging subject of mental health and its effect on gardeners. It's easy to shrug mental health issues as being a sort of modern disease of the young, but consider this: our brains control our entire body, consciously and unconsciously, and we know how other parts of our bodies can have an effect on us as a whole being.

Here in Greenbelt, Maryland, my home of 14 years, the celebration of Labor Day is the highlight of the year. (Fitting for a town built during FDR's administration to house workers.) Imagine hundreds of activities over 4 days - a real midway, big outdoor shows and wholesome fun for all ages. Corny in a good way! The festival makes me appreciate where I live - in a soppy, teary-eyed way. Every damn year. Also, while writing this.

I just paid a hefty price to have a 14" caliper Acer miyabei 'State Street' removed. Were I a smarter person, this could have been avoided. Or, at least, less busy. Multiple signs were ignored. Many opportunities were missed. It was, I must admit, the result of me being me-a person who makes every mistake at least twice. Often three times. Mistake #1: An impulse buy! I bought my 'State Street' during my plant collecting phase. Although I didn't know much about my new investment, I did know three things.

Wendell Berry died at home in Port Royal, Kentucky, on August 31st. The poet, novelist, essayist, and Mad Farmer lived along the Kentucky River. He was 92. His daughter Mary, in an interview, said her father was, "...unfailingly gentlemanly and kind. He said the things we needed to hear.

When winter begins to end with the snowdrops, I start looking forward. And then winter drags on a bit as far as flowers are concerned, so I go on, looking forward. People in the garden world start celebrating a very small group of plants and it all becomes very repetitious, because at that time of year there only IS a small group of plants. So we look forward. To spring. But there's still quite a small group of plants and the endless pictures of tulips, while glorious, do get a little err, boring.