As I write this, only a couple of inches of snow linger on the ground here in Minnesota. At the rate things have been going this winter, they’ll have melted by the time I finish. Some winter enthusiasts up here may be screaming, but I can’t hear them. I enjoy the changing seasons, but twenty-two years in the frozen northland have failed to win me over to the wonders of winter. I’m ready to garden!
Being a northern gardener challenges one’s optimism, but so far, every year I’ve won the battle. Not only do I garden, but I dare to grow roses in this climate. When we moved into our current home seven years ago, I was excited to have a south-facing front yard for the first time. I ripped out the aging junipers (actually, I paid some strong young men to do it) and drew up an all-new design that included nine hardy shrub roses in three different shades of pink.
I chose a variety developed at the University of Iowa and have been thrilled with the results. Every year, the bushes grow larger. A couple of them are now as tall as I am. And when they’re in bloom, they literally stop traffic. I’ve had strangers in cars and neighbors out dog-walking stop and admire them.
This year, I’m taking on a new challenge. My husband and I bought a vacation condo on the Central Coast of California, a region with very limited seasonal rainfall. It’s a gorgeous area where anything will grow if it gets enough water. I have a small, shady front garden and two sunny squares cut into the back patio, so I’ve been studying drought-tolerant plants that can survive when I’m not there to water them.
Very few of the Midwestern plants I’m familiar with grow in coastal California, and that’s a big part of the fun. I’ve discovered some exotic options - like sticky monkey flower! How can I resist something with a great name like that?
Lavender is another lovely choice. It reminds me of Provence and only has to be watered the first year. Roses thrive in the area, but they have to be watered regularly. Maybe when I retire and we can spend longer periods of time there, I’ll install drip irrigation. At the moment, I’m nervous about leaving any kind of water on when we’re gone.
Being a northern gardener challenges one’s optimism, but so far, every year I’ve won the battle. Not only do I garden, but I dare to grow roses in this climate. When we moved into our current home seven years ago, I was excited to have a south-facing front yard for the first time. I ripped out the aging junipers (actually, I paid some strong young men to do it) and drew up an all-new design that included nine hardy shrub roses in three different shades of pink.
I chose a variety developed at the University of Iowa and have been thrilled with the results. Every year, the bushes grow larger. A couple of them are now as tall as I am. And when they’re in bloom, they literally stop traffic. I’ve had strangers in cars and neighbors out dog-walking stop and admire them.
This year, I’m taking on a new challenge. My husband and I bought a vacation condo on the Central Coast of California, a region with very limited seasonal rainfall. It’s a gorgeous area where anything will grow if it gets enough water. I have a small, shady front garden and two sunny squares cut into the back patio, so I’ve been studying drought-tolerant plants that can survive when I’m not there to water them.
Very few of the Midwestern plants I’m familiar with grow in coastal California, and that’s a big part of the fun. I’ve discovered some exotic options - like sticky monkey flower! How can I resist something with a great name like that?
Lavender is another lovely choice. It reminds me of Provence and only has to be watered the first year. Roses thrive in the area, but they have to be watered regularly. Maybe when I retire and we can spend longer periods of time there, I’ll install drip irrigation. At the moment, I’m nervous about leaving any kind of water on when we’re gone.
A new garden is like a blank canvas (or page), full of hope and possibility, just waiting for the creative expression of the artist. I can’t wait.
Alison Henderson
