Privacy in Suburbia

In my last post I wrote about using columnar shrubs and trees for privacy.  I want to continue on that topic since privacy in the yard has been on my mind a lot lately.  At this time of year I want to be outside working in the garden, but I feel very exposed since the trees haven't leafed out yet.  I have mentioned before that I can see parts of sixty-three houses from various points in my backyard.  This is the view of my NW corner from my bedroom window, and you can see quite a few of the neighboring homes in the scene.  I'm usually careful to crop the photo of this view, but here is the full disclosure.  However, the columnar Norway spruce at left will eventually block the view of Santa (from my previous post) on the neighboring rooftop.  Supposedly it can reach 20' tall and 5-6' wide in ten years.  Grow, baby, grow!

From ground level, one neighboring home is still very apparent at this time of year.  Thankfully these neighbors have planted quite a few trees in their yard to help screen the view.  When my columnar Norway spruce and their blue spruce (to the right of this shot) are mature, they will block part of the view between our houses year-round.  The thicket of deciduous branches at center will get thicker as time goes by and eventually provide decent screening.

The view of the same area from another angle features another neighboring home.  Again, my thicket of deciduous branches ('Royal Raindrops' crabapple trees) and two maples planted over the fence will block more of the view in coming years.  These neighbors have an oak tree planted in their yard that will also contribute to the thicket of branches in ensuing winters.  Slowly, this view will be mostly blocked.

The winter screening in my NE corner (viewed from my window) isn't going to get much better than this.  The honey locust trees leaf out late and drop their leaves early.  Their branches will thicken somewhat, but not enough to really block the view of the neighboring white house and the items that are usually stored on their back deck.  That house had a flowering plum tree planted in their neighboring corner when I planned my landscape, but the tree has since died.

Now that my backyard garden has year-round interest, I like looking out my window every morning and evening.  In winter the snow makes a lovely addition to the bare branches, evergreens and boulders.  I'd like the view to include fewer neighboring houses so I can focus on what's happening in my yard.

Here is the NE corner from ground level.  The trees across the fence are mostly quaking aspens, which leaf out early and drop their leaves later than my honey locusts.  On a side note, our new bench swing is wonderful to sit on but is shockingly bright white.  Hopefully it will get a little dirty in time and blend better with our dirty white fence, ha.

This shot of the NE corner from farther back inspires me with how much screening a thicket of bare branches (lilac, crabapple and honey locust) can provide.

In the very corner of my NE area, a 'Shasta' doublefile viburnum is filling the space as it matures.  A 'Shademaster' honey locust is planted eleven feet from the corner, and three 'Green Mountain' boxwoods are growing on either side of the viburnum.

There is not enough space to plant evergreens (columnar Norway spruce or even Arborvitaes) unless I rip out the viburnum.  I don't have another spot in the yard with enough space for that large shrub (10-12' wide at maturity), and I'd be sad to lose it completely.  But dogwood trees are understory trees in the forest.  They grow underneath other trees and close together.  I'm tossing around the idea of snugging two 'Starlight' dogwoods on either side of the viburnum, next to the boxwoods.  I'd have to plant them right next to the fence and plan to prune off lower branches to leave room for the viburnum and fence.  But eventually the thicket of branches above the fence would provide more screening for this area, plus the dogwoods would bloom and leaf out a month before the honey locust.  I could increase my dogwood total to seven trees, which is always a good thing.  Would I rather have this corner a little crowded but more private?  Yes.  Do I mind pruning?  No.  Hmm, this idea has merit.  I'm going to mull it over a little more.

I'll finish with this shot of the SE corner of my yard.  A dogwood planted across the fence in my front yard will someday screen the neighboring windows a little better.  Building privacy with trees in a climate with a short growing season requires patience.  I wish I had done a better job of planning for privacy a decade ago, but better late than never, eh? 

Columnar Trees and Shrubs for Privacy

Since my lot is only a quarter of an acre, I have planted many columnar plants (and placed my basalt column, above) to add height without taking up too much space on the ground.  And since we can see parts of sixty-three neighboring homes from various points in our backyard, I use columnar plants to add privacy.  There is an ever-growing list of columnar plants available, especially for milder climates than mine.  Monrovia's website plant finder (under Advanced Filter, Growth Habit) allows you to search for columnar plants for your hardiness zone.

I planted columnar 'Spring Snow' crabapples (20-25' T x 15-20' W) on the east and west sides of the backyard to screen the view of the neighbors while leaving sunny beds where my flowers can grow.  In addition to their oval crown, these trees have beautiful, sweet smelling white flowers in spring and no messy fruit.  Unfortunately, here in Spokane we have a long season where these trees are leafless and don't provide much screening.
Although I love my eight 'Spring Snow' crabapple trees, my local nurseryman - whose nursery has been open as long as I've been alive, so he knows a lot - told me that these trees are falling out of favor with growers because they are susceptible to fire blight.  This fungal disease can strike in spring and causes twigs and leaves to look as if they've been burned black.  Infected trees should be sprayed immediately with a fire blight-rated pesticide, and infected parts should be pruned out, wrapped in plastic and put into the trash to avoid spreading more spores.  I haven't had a problem with this, fingers crossed.

Recently my husband caught this photo of Santa laying eggs in our neighbor's yard.  We endured this view for several weeks from our bedroom window before Santa left his eggs behind and went to rest for a few months.  As my trees and our neighbors' trees grow, this scene will be blocked during the growing season, but I wish I had planted more tall evergreens to cover it year-round.

Two years ago, I talked my husband into pulling out some boxwood shrubs and planting two columnar Norway spruce trees (Picea abies 'Cupressina').  These columnar trees are said to reach thirty feet tall and five to six feet wide at maturity.  Both are strategically planted to block views of the neighbors - especially their windows - when they reach full size.

The spruces have put on decent growth each year, and they'd surely grow more quickly in climates with a longer growing season.  I can think of several spots where I'd like to plant more of them, but that would require removing other beautiful plants.  It's so hard to balance functional evergreens with favorite beautiful plants.

This photo includes the young columnar spruces plus 'Green Tower' boxwoods (9' T x 2' W) and 'Fine Line' buckthorns (7' T x 2-3' W).  I have ten of the GT boxwoods and seven of the FL buckthorns planted around the yard.  Both shrubs are easy to prune to the height and width you desire, and they can be planted singly or in a row to create a hedge.  Some types of buckthorn are invasive, but FL is not.

This GT boxwood in the front yard greets visitors as they come to the front yard.  Kind of like a plant butler.  I should call it Jeeves.

A 'Caesar's Brother' Siberian iris at center is columnar in spring and vase shaped later in the growing season.  Many grasses have a lovely columnar form, like 'Karl Forster' feather reed grass, but I avoid ornamental grasses since they give me a rash and make me sneeze.  To the right of the photo above, two of my 'Fine Line' buckthorns add height to the bed.  This spring I decided they were too tall, and it was quick work to trim two feet of height off the top.

Last year I found room for a fifth dogwood - wish I had room for a dozen more - and planted this columnar 'Starlight' tree (Cornus kousa x nuttallii) at the corner of the dining room addition.  It's reported to bloom heavily and grow vigorously to a height of thirty feet and width of twenty feet.  Yes, it's obviously going to require pruning in this spot.  Good thing I took a pruning class in college.  Eventually it will give late afternoon and evening shade to the patio in midsummer.

At right is a columnar apple tree from White Flower Farm.  I don't grow a lot of food, but I had the idea that a columnar apple would be fun.  We'll see how it works out.  Meanwhile, the upright shape is lovely.

If you live in a crowded suburban neighborhood like mine, screening views is important even if you don't have a large yard.  Columnar plants - especially evergreens - are a good option for creating privacy without taking up too much room.  Please learn from my mistake and plan for privacy so you don't have to look at your neighbors' junk or allow them to peer at you through second story windows.  Let Santa lay his eggs in private.

Poppies! Orange and Violet Serendipity

Four years ago I ordered three maroon 'Heartbeat' poppies, but there were shipping delays and the plants grew slowly, so this was the first year that buds appeared on the plants.  I was excited to see how the deep color worked with the violet and mauve color scheme that is blooming in the northwest corner right now.

However, when the flowers finally appeared they were not maroon.  They were in-your-face, traffic stopping, construction barrel reddish-orange.  Ugh!  I was so disappointed after four years of waiting.  But then my daughters kept crooning over how beautiful they were, and my husband pointed out that orange and violet look pretty good together.  Even my three year old son liked the 'puppies' in the garden.  Hmmm.

I kept gazing out at that corner from the dining room window, my window upstairs, and the bench under the arbor nearby.  I even pulled a chair out to the middle of the path so I could stare right at the poppies and other colors.  I considered how the orange poppies were a deeper version of the rosy-orange 'Totally Tangerine' geum blooms (at bottom and right above), so all those orange flowers created a nice connection throughout the area.

I pondered how the purple spikes of 'Caradonna' salvia and deep blue-violet flowers of 'Caesar's Brother' Siberian iris made a beautiful background for a pop of reddish-orange color.  I even found myself liking the way the orange played off the mauve-purple globes of 'Ambassador' allium hovering above.

I can't believe it, but I decided that I really love these reddish-orange poppies!  So I transplanted the third plant from another spot to a place of honor at the center of the bed among the salvia.  That little plant still isn't blooming this year but will be big enough to flower next year.  We're looking forward to even more of those giant poppy blooms in years to come.

Orange and violet are kind of fabulous.  Who would have thought?  Of course I did go ahead and order three more of the 'Heartbeat' poppy plants.  I have other spots where I can put them, and they make a nice color echo of the 'Moulin Rouge' astrantia  (barely visible in the center above) in this area.

All is well in the northwest corner after all.  It is especially enjoyable to sit on the bench under the arbor and watch countless bees feasting on all the flowers.  They really love the purple 'Caradonna' salvia, but they also frequent the 'Totally Tangerine' geum.  The geum flowers bend over and sway precariously each time a giant bumblebee lands on them.  It's kind of funny to watch.

This is part of the view from the arbor.  After I decided that I liked the color scheme, I couldn't stop taking photos.  In the background, 'Pagan Purple' delphiniums are getting ready to bloom.  Rosy-red 'Montgomery' astilbes are also in bud next to the path.  The parade of blooms will continue . . .

I mentioned in my last post that we did some transplanting in this area on Memorial Day.  In addition to moving the tree peonies away from the sprinklers to curb the Botrytis rot they've been experiencing, I made room for another butterfly bush.  You can see one of the magenta flowers of 'Miss Ruby' above.

This butterfly bush will provide color to the area after the salvia, allium, astrantia, Siberian iris and poppies finish blooming (the 'TT' geum blooms all summer).  The magenta flowers look especially nice next to the dark 'Black Negligee' Cimicifuga leaves at the base of the photo.  And of course we will enjoy watching butterflies on 'Miss Ruby' from the arbor bench.

Here's another shot of fabulous orange and violet.  'Caesar's Brother' Siberian iris are in the front with 'TT' geum at back.  The upright, grass-like leaves of the iris work really well against the airy sprays of rounded geum flowers.  It's a fun challenge to try to mix different forms as well as colors into a beautiful whole.

I guess the moral of this story is to keep your mind open when planning your garden.  Gardening is definitely a trial and error process, and sometimes serendipity graces the scene with unexpected beauty.

The Sad Tale of the Lilac Bouquets

Last week was teacher appreciation week at my daughters' school, so one morning we cut two large bouquets of fragrant, lovely 'Katherine Havemeyer' lilac blooms to bring to their teachers.  I even connected with my crafty side and pulled out the glue gun to beautify the peanut butter jar vases with ribbon.

Unfortunately, there were a few hitchhikers on the lilac blooms.  You can't see them above, but I was told that nine spiders emerged from one of the bouquets once it arrived at the classroom.  Most of them were tiny brown spiders, but there were also a few of the penny-sized white spiders that we often see in the garden.

My daughter told me that chaos ensued with kids shrieking and pointing at the spiders that now infested their classroom.  The kids were sure the spiders were very poisonous.  No one would sit on the floor for reading time.  I'm sure her teacher felt very appreciated.  We're definitely on her list of favorite people right now.

So that bouquet - and the other one, just in case - were gingerly carried outside and laid to rest in the dumpster.  I don't think of myself as particularly tough, but I have become used to these little spiders and the many other bugs I encounter each time I'm out in the garden, though I am rightly wary of the aggressive paper wasps, and earwigs still creep me out.  I would have smashed the spiders with a tissue (because although they're welcome in the garden, the penalty for coming indoors is death!)  and carried on, but I wasn't there to save the day.

So we're just enjoying the lilacs in the garden for now, and next year we'll think of something different to bring for teacher appreciation week.  Even if I remembered to soak the blooms in a bucket to kill and wash away the spiders, memories of this year's debacle would probably ruin any future enjoyment of the lilac's beauty and scent.

Watch out, there are probably countless creepy-crawlies hidden in this seemingly innocent scene!

Yup, they're hiding here as well.  Isn't there something tickling your neck right now . . .

I wonder if this teacher will still let me bring in peonies and filler flowers to teach the children how to make bouquets next month.  The class might still be too traumatized.  We say it's the thought that counts with gifts, but I'm not sure that applies when spiders are part of the deal.
Good news!  The bouquet-making is still on, though I will take care to shake and wash off the flowers so the kids don't have another creepy experience.  Maybe I'll also take a few minutes to teach them about some of the insects common in gardens around here.  With photos, not live subjects.  

Why You Should Stake Delphiniums

I never got around to staking my 'Pagan Purple' delphiniums this year. I was kind of hoping that since they're overcrowded in a bed with a large lilac shrub that they'd all kind of hold each other up. Apparently I was wrong.



Here is a picture of one of my backyard flower beds taken a couple of days ago. You can see Campanula 'Pearl Blue' down low, a crimson 'William Shakespeare 2000' english rose shrub, violet 'Caradonna' salvia, and the giant 'Pagan Purple' delphs. The tallest ones are over six feet (two meters) tall.



Here is the same view from this afternoon. We've had a very windy day today. Even the rose has flopped over. Its stems should get stronger with a few more years of growth, so I'll not worry about staking it. But I definitely need to remove a few of the delphs and stake the ones that are left for next year.



This is a pretty shot, despite the fact that the delph stalks are pointing the wrong direction. In the background are bleeding heart foliage and 'Lime Rickey' heucheras. I love lime green and deep violet-blue together.



If I didn't love their flowers so much, I'd never put up with all the work needed to grow good delphiniums. They need rich, moist soil. They need extra stalks removed in early spring so the clump doesn't become too congested (I didn't do that either this year, oops). And staking, of course.



The good news is that you don't have to feel guilty about chopping off a ton of flowers to fill up a vase when the stalks are already laying on the ground. Do you notice how the vase looks like it's leaning? The wind knocked it over a couple of seconds after I took this shot. Nothing broke, though, and I put the flowers in a bigger vase.



I also cut some of the crimson roses and put them in a vase with delphs to give to a friend. These are some seriously pretty flowers! Although the delphiniums don't smell, the 'William Shakespeare 2000' roses have a very strong, romantic scent.



At least I caught a shot of the bed before the wind trashed it. Live and learn.

Delphiniums and Cosmos Run Wild!

In the spring I posted about the beautiful delphiniums available from Dowdeswell Delphiniums in New Zealand. I used their pictures with permission, and after reading the post they sent me a free packet of their 'Pagan Purples' delphiniums. Woo-Hoo: that's the only free anything I've ever received from blogging!


I diligently started the seeds and had MUCH MORE success than the year before, when my faulty seed starting methods yielded a little over a dozen plants per seed packet. I ended up with 47 baby delphiniums . . . oh, dear, what would I do with them all? I gave a bunch away, and crammed the rest into any spare soil in my sunny backyard holding area.


In my climate, delphiniums bloom first in June, then you cut them back to the ground and they'll bloom again in September. None of mine are growing in full sun, so they tend to get more floppy and most need staking to stay upright. The plant in the photo above will probably need staking next year when it grows taller and wider.


You can see in the photo above that the delphs put on a great show this year ('Green Twist' is the white delph in the background). What you can't see in the photo is all the dead leaves at the base of the plants that were caused by overcrowding. And this was before the cosmos really took off . . .


This year my garden has also been a victim of my success starting cosmos seeds, in this case, Rose Bonbon Double Click cosmos. They're fancier than other cosmos, with extra rows of petals that make them look like roses.


I only had about 15 cosmos seeds germinate, but by that time my garden was already crammed full of delphiniums. The seed packet said they'd grow to 4 feet tall by 2 feet wide, but I didn't really believe it. I'm used to crowding slow-starting perennials into beds, then transplanting in a few years when they fill in, so I forgot that annuals like cosmos reach full size in a season. Or maybe I didn't forget, I just ignored reason and shoved them into every last gap in the soil.


So you can see that the cosmos have reached their full stature - maybe even a little more, despite overcrowding. This picture doesn't show the young english rose bushes languishing below the cosmos shade, and it doesn't show the oriental lilies that have been consumed by cosmos foliage (they're in there somewhere, I can smell them). Last night I finally went nuts and dug up a bunch of delphs and cosmos. The cosmos got tossed, and the delphs were plunked into pots while I try to figure out which local friends have a good spot for delphs and might like my castaways.


So what is the moral of this story? When starting seeds, hope for mediocrity but plan for resounding success, just in case? Sharing makes the world a better place, and your garden less crowded? Pots are good in desparate times?


Anyway, the fun side to all this excessive growing success has been all the arrangements made from the delphs and cosmos, which look especially perky with some golden coreopsis mixed in. The photo above shows a simple vaseful of flowers put together by my daughter, who is on track to become a great gardener and florist someday. And she'll have fun making her own mistakes and learning from them.