THE ADVANTAGES OF HEIGHT
It is winter. The garden catalogs tantalize me with pictures of eternal sunshine and flowers. The view outside my windows depresses me as I watch the gray branches whipping back and forth in the intermittent wind storm that has besieged us for the last three weeks. If I were more virtuous, I would turn away from those windows and clean out a few closets. However, I would rather turn to the garden catalogs and think of spring.
I am short and so is my garden. I can’t do anything about my stature, but I can add height to the garden and this year I will do so. Garden websites and magazines are full of ways to add vertical accents. You can use climbing plants like roses, clematis, climbing hydrangea or honeysuckle and affix them to various supports. You can also invest in tall shrubs, but often they spread almost as far as they sprout.
I already have plenty of shrubs and climbers. The tall plants that I need now are flowering perennials, preferably ones that are sturdy enough to stand on their own without additional support. After all, staking takes time away from other congenial pursuits like visiting nurseries and show gardens.
I have the greatest height problems in shady spots. One word comes to mind–cimicifuga, which the plant taxonomists now call Actaea. People who love the plant, but don’t love Latin names, call it snakeroot, bugbane or cohosh. Both the Latin “cimicifuga” and the common name “bugbane” refer to one of the plant’s traditional uses–repelling bedbugs. Now that these blood-sucking insects have made a comeback, there may be more than one reason to have actaea in the garden.
Actaea simplex and its relative, Actaea racemosa, grow to four feet or more. Their greatest selling point is spire-like flowerheads that top the stalks and can be up to two feet long. The stalks and dissected leaves are either dark green or dark purple-black, depending on the species and variety. Some cultivars, like the suggestively named ‘Black Negligee’, also have fragrant flowers. I plan to order several bugbanes and group them in a rather sad, dark spot in my back garden.
Another shade loving plant that rises to great heights is aconitum or monkshood. Aconitum carmichaelii Arendsii can grow up to six feet tall. Other species and varieties range from three to six feet. The flowers, which are hooded and somewhat reminiscent of snapdragons or foxgloves, come in colors ranging from white to pink, shades of blue and blue-purple. The foliage is handsomely dissected and a clump of the plants makes a dramatic accent in front of a fence or hedge. Aconitum’s other advantage is that it blooms in late summer, when other plants may look a little lackluster. The genus has only one deficiency and that is toxicity. All parts or poisonous, so it shouldn’t be planted in any place where small children or pets might be tempted to nibble on it.
The sunnier parts of my garden definitely need hollyhocks or alcea. For some reason, I never replaced the ones that were stomped to death several years ago by the dainty work boots of painting contractors. The solution to this particular aspect of my height problem is easy. I will plant the hollyhock seeds that I acquired two years ago on a visit to sculptor Augustus Saint Gaudens’ garden in Cornish, New Hampshire. The Saint Gaudens hollyhocks were the old-fashioned single-flowered kind in a particularly lovely range of colors. I saw some of their browned seed pods lying on the ground and collected them. I hope that at least a few of the seeds will still be viable. I’ll order some additional ones just in case.
For years I coveted Joe Pye-Weed or Eupatorium maculatum. This plant, a sun lover, grows wild in fields all over the eastern United States. When I finally bought three of them a couple of years ago, I wasn’t disappointed. The certainly add height, and, in fact, I cut mine back in June so they top out at five feet rather than six. They are among the toughest plants around and also attract butterflies and pollinating insects. The flowers, which are massed into big fluffy heads, are delectably fragrant. If Joe Pye-Weed is happy in your garden, it will be fruitful and multiply readily. Mine have done so, and this year I will be adding drama to some vertically challenged garden spots with a few Joe Pye-Weed transplants.
You can also use some of the taller grasses, like miscanthus, to add strong verticals to your space. I confess to being a little hostile towards miscanthus grass right now, having injured myself trying to dig and divide a mature clump last summer. Suffice it to say that miscanthus needs a large space and gardeners who cultivate it need strong backs and an old-fashioned mattock to dig and divide it when the time comes
Tall plants are not as fashionable right now as really chic horticultural items like heirloom peppers and multi-colored beets. But they are timeless. Long after many of the fashionable plants have been relegated to compost heaps and commercial oblivion, the ageratums and Joe Pye-Weeds of this world will still be beautifying gardens.