brown is in
Maybe I was inspired by the garden designs of Piet Oudolf. Maybe I was inspired by my recent trip to see things turning brown in Los Peñasquitos Preserve. Or maybe I’m just a little busy and/or slacker-ey in the doldrums of summer.
Whatever the reason, I’ve decided to let the flowering heads on a lot of plants do their natural thing and turn brown, to see what they look like. These are all experiments that I might develop into something a little more finished looking at some point. And all this is taking place in the front yard, where appearance is everything. What will the neighbors say? Hopefully they have a similar sense of adventure.
The plant on the top of this picture is a spiraea I bought fifteen years ago. This is before I started my plant database, and the label is long gone. I’m still working on researching the species. Even the California native Spiraea douglassii likes a little bit of water, but this one in the front yard gets very little in the summer. It’s even survived six weeks or more with no irrigation. It doesn’t look the prettiest that way, but it survives.
Here it is contrasted against the almost-white foliage of common dusty miller, Senecio bicolor subsp. cineraria, a plant usually sold as an annual. But it’s hung on for well over five years in this tough spot. Looks pretty good most of the year, too.
Another plant with light-colored foliage is Santolina chamaecyparissus, also called lavender cotton, ground cypress, and a few other things. I like the swoop-ey rhythm of the dried flower heads and stalks. This is one of those plants I really hate in bloom. The yellow against the gray foliage for two weeks in early summer is unfortunate. And the flowers smell creepy, too–something between bad medicine and paint remover. At least the plant stays a nice mound of grayish foliage most of the year.
And the last plant in this little gallery is some basic lavender, contrasted against the brown-red foliage and seed heads of red feather grass, Pennisetum setaceum ‘Rubrum’. Some people dead-head their lavender, both to lengthen bloom-time and to keep the plants tidier. I like the pointillist bits of lavender with the gray-green foliage and the brown of the dead flowering heads.
I’m not positive that deadheading the spent flowers off the lavender does much to keep the plant blooming: It looks good winter through about now, and then starts to slow down as my watering slows down. The santolina blooms once a year, deadheaded or not. And the spiraea…well, the thing that would perk it up the most would be some more water and not vigilant removing of its spent blooms. Poor plant. It had the sad fortune of ending up in my yard as its adoptive home. San Diego isn’t surf and fun and sunshine all the time…
August 20 2008 04:41 am | Categories: gardening • landscape design • my garden • plant profiles | Tags: deadheading • drought-tolerant landscaping • dusty miller • lavender • Pennisetum setaceum 'Rubrum' • Santolina chamaecyparissus • Senecio bicolor • spiraea


Greg on 20 Aug 2008 at 8:55 pm #
Oh, you are a cruel gardener, aren’t you? ; )
Actually, we have some plants in common here, tho I am lacking the dusty miller and lavendar…both sadnesses, but I’ll remedy that sometime in the future.
The spirea is deep inside the border and hard to reach for deadheading. Nonetheless, it’s continue to present further little pink flower clusters throughout the season.
I’m actually sorry my santolina hasn’t bloomed yet. It is an odd scented plant, isn’t it? Love the foliage tho. I wonder if it is getting too much water that is preventing blooming. Those yellow flowers really roast yer chestnuts, don’t they…
lostlandscape on 22 Aug 2008 at 4:09 pm #
Looks like your garden isn’t lacking for yellow, tho, even if your own santolina can’t be bothered to do anything other than grow foliage. Think of the bright side: no deadheading of those hundreds and hundreds of little itty bitty flowers…