Home garden designs

Grounded Design will be joining the Garden Designers Roundtable as a guest blogger for this years roundtable.  The topic will be "Horticultural Icons" and the post will be this September.  Here is a preview of other designers contributing this season:

My spring mania is finally tempering, and fortunately, I did not hurt anyone in a plant-induced craze. Except my wallet, of course. My house still looks a band of maraudering garden pirates attacked it--seed packets are still strewn all over the house; my bedside table is a precarious stack of plant catalogues and garden books; and you can follow the trail of dirt-covered shovels, trowels, and soup spoons from the bedroom to the back door—which remains permanently open in the last few weeks.

Now that my frothing-at-the-mouth phase has passed, it has been replaced with a feeling of contempt and self-loathing for every plant combination I’ve ever thought of. I read somewhere that fits of mania are often followed by depression. My ten-month old garden is looking better than it has in its short life. But not to me. My poor wife has to deal with sweeping declarations like, “Everything must go,” or “It’s all wrong! I need a blank slate!” I keep sitting her down to have serious conversations. While she mentally prepares to talk about finances or some major life decision, I say, “Really, what should we do about that hole between the Pycnanthemum and the Symphotrichum?” She rolls her eyes and walks away from the table. “She’s just not taking this seriously enough," I mutter to myself. I head outside to transplant a group of Penstemons I’ve already moved four times this month.

Is dissatisfaction healthy for gardening? A critical eye may indeed be the impetus for constructive change; but constant editing prevents a garden from establishing. Each year, I design planting plans for anywhere from eight to thirty sites. I think about planting design when I shower in the morning and when I close my eyes at night. I write about it. I teach it. But the one constant is the realization that doing good planting design is hard. It’s damn hard. When I imagine a garden in my head, it rarely looks like that in reality. Most of the time, I find this to be disappointing. Sometimes this discrepancy is good. Some of my better designed garden moments are, in all honesty, serendipitous.

That is exactly why I’m so fascinated with design. The challenge never ends. Maybe it will take me another four decades before I get good at this. That’s ok. Maybe I never will be satisfied. In my better moments, my disappointments propel me to make the next garden better. But with garden-making, at least I feel like I’ve found a worthy opponent. One that I will wrestle with to the very end.

This spring my wife and I started to convert the expanse of lawn around our newly purchased ranch house into gardens.  While we focus on renovating the insides of the house, the focus for our garden is its infrastructure and bones.  To that end, we’ve been smothering several hundred square feet of lawn under cardboard, newspapers, and compost; planting young shrubs to create screens; carefully carving specimens out of overgrown trees; and generally preparing the soil for future garden spaces.  Last week we installed several hundred perennials and grasses on the side of our house.  During that planting, I remembered the best planting advice I’ve ever received.

This advice came to me by way of a representative from Monrovia Nursery.  Monrovia is one of the sleeker national nurseries with big ad budgets and relentless branding strategies.  While I’m typically turned-off by glossy national nurseries and their patented plants, I must admit that Monrovia knows their stuff when it comes to installing plants.

A root bound container plant. Image from Virginia Cooperative Extension

The advice focused on techniques of installing container plants.  The big problem with container plants is that they get root bound.  Roots naturally grow out and down (mostly out) away from the plant.  When the roots of a plant in a pot reaches the wall of a pot, it has nowhere to go and will begin circling the perimeter of a pot over and over again.  Almost any gardener who has brought home a new plant from a nursery has seen how a container plant can get root bound.  It’s best to avoid plants in this condition, but often gardeners don’t have that option.

Roots of a Panicum plug. Direct them away from the plant before planting.

I had known how to direct the roots away from the plant using a root hook, or by scoring the sides of the roots with a sharp blade.  However, what I did not realize was that root bound plants often become so dense, they will not absorb water.  The density of tangled roots in a container plant can make the plant hydrophobic—it literally sheds water.  Think about a dry sponge.  When you first stick it under the faucet, water bounces off of it.  So if you simply place that root bound plant in the ground and water it, water will more than likely run off the root ball and move toward the less dense soil around it.  Even if you water it, the plant may not be getting the water.

How do you deal with this problem?  The idea is to soak the plant for several minutes in water prior to planting.  When you plant, fill up a large bucket with water--preferably rainwater since it does not have any of the chlorine or other chemicals of municipal water.  Take the plant out of its pot and gently pull any encircled roots away from the plants.  Then set the root ball in the bucket of water.  Let it soak for anywhere from 30 seconds to three minutes—or until air bubbles stop coming out of it.  This deep hydration actually reverses the plant’s hydrophobia.  When you install a sopping wet root ball into the ground, the dry soil around it actually clings to the root ball by osmosis, creating a better soil to root contact.  This technique is especially good for container trees.  If the plant is that large, consider filling a wheel barrow full of water. 

Here Im soaking the Panicum in compost tea prior to planting.

Want to really baby that plant?  Here’s my own little spin on this trick: soak the root ball in a bucket of freshly brewed compost tea.  Compost tea is essentially compost-brewed water that is aerated for 24 hours and mixed with a bit of molasses (or other sugar).  Compost tea takes the beneficial bacteria and fungus present in compost increases them exponentially by aeration and sugars.  These bacteria and fungus are critical in root establishment.  Soaking your new plant in compost tea literally loads the root ball with beneficial soil microorganisms right before it gets planted.  More on compost tea later.

Next time you plant, have a bucket of rainwater or compost tea by your side.  I promise, you’ll notice a difference.