End of November

As the active growing season settles down, the mood in the yard has shifted, with the view of the Bay opening up as trees lose their leaves, and the dominant color is no longer green.

Relationships between plants and sections shift, as the evergreens grow in prominence, the bare branches of the deciduous shrubs become transparent, and herbaceous perennials shrink down to the cluster of leaves at the base or disappear altogether.

The view from the path circling around to its end in the center shows some of the changes.  There are only a few leaves left on the Katsura, while the crape myrtle directly ahead is still dark green with leaves.  The very dark green of the Japanese cedars appears almost black, while the blue-green leaves of the false indigo at the bottom/front of the photo are losing intensity.  The two evergreens behind the crape myrtle are shifting.  The Dawn Redwood, just to the right of the crape myrtle is shifting color from green to bright brown, soon to a golden brown before the needles are dropped for the winter.  Then further to the right, the Franklinia has yet to move into its dominant winter role as the only large evergreen visible in the view to the Bay.   So, as the trees that block the view of the Bay during the summer become bare branches, other trees step forward.  Soon much of the foliage will need to be cleaned out, creating an openness that is refreshing.

Turing to the right, the mixture of shapes and colors of the border hedge along our neighbors yard attract much more attention.  The yellow-green of threadleaf false cypress, the narrow vertical shapes of the Sky Pencil hollies, the irregular masses of the Chesapeake hollies, the red berries of the Winterberries are all playing against each other.  The Osmanthus, which are still small and cannot be seen in the spaces in front of the white fence on the right side of this photo.  Eventually they will fill that area in with a mixture of green, white, and red accents. 

I will end with the view over the heather garden toward the Bay.  It is a mixture with a sprawling rosemary in the front, grasses, spirea, clethra, and all of the trees.

Christmas garden

The cold of the season is firmly established, even though there are murmurs of a thaw at the end of the week.  But even if it does get into the 50's in a few days, the plants have been dragged down by the sub-freezing temperatures and biting winds. 

The Winterberry holly, Winter Red, has stepped out of the background of pencil hollies and tall grass with the red fruits that glow from inside with any bit of sunshine.  This is the front bush of two, which fade into the background for most of the year.  But when the labyrinth is its most monochrome and bleak, these bushes grab everyone's attention. 

This is their second year in the garden.  When they were stripped of their berries the first year, it appeared the birds would maintain an upper hand.  But, so far, the berries are still here, playing a role.  Hopefully they will stay long enough for blue birds migrating in the Spring to have a meal.  They will need to fill in for the large holly tree behind the house that did not set many berries in the drought over the summer.

In the future, as these get larger, they will provide Christmas decorations for both us and the church wreath makers.

While the snow has melted away from these lambs ears, they play a different role.  While the color is not vibrant, this soft gray-green with its touchable texture contrasts with the boxwood and holly green. 

Since the zoysia grass turns a soft yellow brown, it becomes a neutral color for the browns and greens of the flower beds.  While many cannot imagine having a brown lawn in the winter, I find it quite satisfying to have such a bold new color against which other things can be planted. 

Finally, there is this little charmer.  I need to look up the invoice from the Plant Delights Nursery to determine its true name, because the only name to be recalled is some kind of unusual foxglove from South America with red flowers.  That is probably all wrong, but once it has been found, all will be revealed.  For now, it is enough to provide a four inch high plant that is holding its own in the snow.  But then, one of the reasons for starting this blog about the labyrinth garden is to keep learning about all of the plants, and practice their names in my growing-older brain.

Transitions in the Seasons

As the fall wraps up its process of shuttling down plants for the cold winter months ahead, there are also last glimpses of the color and beauty of last summer. 

This is one of the remaining coleus on the front porch. While there has not been a hard frost yet, which would have been immediately seen in blackened foliage on the various false indigo plants, the annuals have shut down.  These coleus have done better since they are in a protected spot near the warmth of the house.  We probably won't take cuttings this year, since it is hard to carry them through until the next spring.

The berries on the Ilex verticillata Winter Red have fully developed their color for the winter, while holding onto the leaves.  Once the leaves drop, the red of these berries will provide a great splash of color through February if the birds don't eat them first. A few will be cut to use for house decorations, but the bushes are still too small to do much of that yet. They can be added into any arrangement of greens or shown to dramatic effect by themselves on the bare stems.

It has taken several years to find a place for Winterberry, a deciduous holly grown particularly for these large berries on bare stems.    The ones planted down on the side of the ravine always struggled during dry spells, never getting enough water.  Once stressed, they would drop their berries.  Even one summer when watered through soaking hoses, they never got enough.  Two different varieties were tried in two different places with no success.

These two female bushes, with a pollinating male only a few feet away, are at the back edge of the labyrinth, up where they will get attention and water.  Actually, since this is the spot where the rain water from the other side of the street streams through on its way to the drain, they get lots of water without being constantly wet. While the site would be a bit crowded if they ever grew to their full size of 8 feet by 8 feet, they will be kept in place by pruning for decorations every year.

Just about fifteen feet away, along that same back edge with the neighbors property but close to the road is a Redbud .  It is Cercis canandensis 'Don Egolf,' named for the breeder at the National Arboretum who developed it.  It is a dwarf variety that will only reach ten or twelve feet tall. That was an important consideration since it sits right in front of the view from another neighbor's house to the Bay.  Their house sits high enough that when the tree is full height, they will be able to easily see over it.

These are the many buds that will explode with a brilliant magenta color early in the spring.  Redbuds bloom earlier than most other spring flowers, so the color is particularly satisfying against the grayness of their surroundings.  Since this is more of a bush in shape, it will provide lots of eye candy when there is little other.

This was planted in the year before my mother died, and only after telling my sister about it did I learn that Redbuds were one of Mom's favorite trees.  I think about her when I see it blooming, along with Lemon Lily (a yellow day lily), peonies, iris, hardy hibiscus, and a paper bark maple planted in her memory.  She is still a part of this garden. Once there are pictures of everything, I will put together a page of all of them.