Plants Can Have Their (Hidden) Places by Lindsay Bond Totten
Scripps Howard News Service
Recording artists with a single big hit to their credit are known as "one-hit wonders." The performers peaked quickly and virtually disappeared after their tune left the charts.
Gardening has an equivalent: Pussy willow, forget-me-not and the dwarf burning bush are all one-hit wonders of the plant world. And there are other popular plants like them. They have just one--usually brief--season of interest and then slip into anonymity behind a screen of plain green leaves, rampant growth or disease-plagued stems.
Why give garden space to a weedy groundcover like forget-me-not, which spends one week blooming and the other 51 weeks of the year either dead or dying?
The answer: Because those seven days of unforgettable sky-blue flowers make an impression that lingers. A hedge of dwarf burning bush can nearly take the breath away in autumn when the foliage turns a brilliant scarlet. And what fun to cut long wands of soft pussy willows for late-winter arrangements!
So distinctive is this single feature in each case that even non-gardeners are likely to recognize these horticultural one-hit wonders.
I'm reluctant to relinquish space in my garden to a one-dimensional plant, though I do grow a black pussy willow. It suckers a bit, but otherwise stays put, which is why it's still there. Though I love them, forget-me-nots will never be permitted. They're garden thugs, possessing seeds that spread without regard for boundaries. And I can admire burning bush in lots of other gardens.
But my purpose here is not to disparage these popular plants, but to encourage gardeners to think carefully before planting them. They may have a place in our gardens, but it's also wise to consider the impact they may have there--and beyond.
Only responsible gardeners should be allowed to cultivate wisteria, for instance. In full bloom, wisteria is truly glorious. But without skillful pruning and constant vigilance, the vines can escape.
Shoots will pop up, first in your garden and then on to the neighbors, perhaps to strangle a tree or climb a drain spout and destroy a gutter.
It's a steep price to pay for such short-lived drama, but worth the effort to attentive gardeners if the decision to plant is weighed carefully.
Oriental poppies would not have been my personal choice for perennials. In fact, I lobbied against them when we moved here. But my husband's grandmother loved them so--this was her garden before being ours--and they remind him of her.
If the weather cooperates and the deep purple Siberian irises bloom in concert with the screaming orange poppies, our border can be spectacular for about five days in May. But I'm glad we saved them nonetheless, for the blooms testify that her spirit is with us still.
When they're done, of course, the dreadful foliage remains, then wanes and finally disappears altogether, only to reappear halfheartedly two months later. If they would just stay beneath the surface after the foliage dies back, poppies would be easier to recommend.
It's also why I can't include bulb favorites such as tulips and daffodils on the list of one-hit wonders. While most are limited to a color splash in the spring, their foliage dies completely, leaving their space for other things.
It would likewise be unfair to accuse spring wildflowers of the same. Delicate ephemerals like Virginia bluebells and trillium disappear by design, to be followed, in nature and in our gardens, by ferns and other shade-loving plants.
Sentimental attachment is a perfectly legitimate reason to cultivate a one-hit wonder. Old-fashioned plants like poppies, bleeding heart, lilac and forsythia connect us to the past and evoke fond memories of gardeners we loved and miss. Their significance outweighs the flaws those plants may have.
There's no consensus, of course, as to what constitutes a one-hit wonder. I'd put tricolor beech on the list, but a proud owner might be miffed. I just don't care for how quickly its rosy-hued foliage fades to a dingy brown. By August, I find the tree unattractive.
One potential solution to the dilemma is to negotiate the plant's position in the garden: Try tucking a one-hit wonder among foliage that will mitigate it later on, saving prime real estate for plants that require less compromise.
(Lindsay Bond Totten, a horticulturist, writes about gardening for Scripps Howard News Service.)
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