What is Matrix Planting?

Want to Learn More?

I’m hosting a live webinar on matrix planting Monday August 4 at 6 pm CDT. In Matrix Planting Made Easy, you’ll learn how to create a resilient, beautiful, and low-maintenance planting from the ground up. We’ll cover species selection, layering, site prep, design strategies, and more!

I’ve realized recently that matrix planting can be confusing for many gardeners, and that’s a problem.

This method of planting allows for a simple approach for people to plant ecologically, but if there’s confusion putting it into practice or even from the name, that can lead to a doom loop of failure, messy outcomes, and weedy chaos. Over the years, I’ve heard many comments from gardeners who want to plant using this approach but struggle to make matrix planting look intentional instead of neglected.

So, let’s break matrix planting down.

What Is Matrix Planting?

Matrix planting (header image) is a style of arranging plants where a low-growing species covers the ground from which other plants emerge. This style mimics what is seen in many plant communities where plants have evolved to grow at different levels to maximize resource capture. But, in horticulture we simplify those naturally occurring layers for legibility.

Rhododendron cumberlandense (Cumberland azalea) amongst a matrix of grasses on Gregory Bald.

And, for something more herbaceous Baptisia australis var. minor (dwarf wild blue indigo) emerges from a matrix of green grasses

When done well, matrix planting

• suppresses weeds

• reduces or eliminates mulch

• creates relief for other plants to pop against

• provides seasonal interest

• and supports soil health and moisture retention.

The Sporobolus (prairie dropseed) meadow at Chanticleer is a thinking exercise in what is a matrix as its most defining layer with no other plants present.

At Stoneleigh, Eragrostis chloromelas ‘Wind Dancer’ (blue love grass) served as a matrix for emerging Baptisia (wild indigo), Echinacea pallida (pale coneflower), and Oenothera lindheimeri (white gaura).

At Oudolf Garden Detroit this matrix of Carex albicans (white-tinged sedge) provides a foil for other plants.

Carex texensis (Texas sedge) in the home garden serves as a good matrix species.

The Origins of Matrix Planting

I first learned of the concept of matrix planting from Planting: A New Perspective by Piet Oudolf and Noel Kingsbury. They shared that the matrix is a functional layer of usually one or a few plants and embedded in this ground cover layer are more showy plants. They gave the example that matrix planting is like a fruitcake. The matrix is the cake, and the showier plants are the fruit and nut pieces added in. They also commented on the confusion of the word and the practice, saying

“The concept of matrix planting is one which has been around for sometime, but like many terms and planting design. It has had the unfortunate history of being used by different people to mean different things — in part because of the misunderstanding over the meaning of the word. ‘Matrix’ is defined in the American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language as ‘a surrounding substance within which something else originates, develops, or is contained, and it is with this in mind that we will use the term.”

— Planting: A New Perspective by Piet Oudolf and Noel Kingsbury

So, matrix plantings are a type of naturalistic planting because they try to mimic the essence of plant communities, BUT not all naturalistic planting designs are matrix plantings. Recently reading the introduction of Piet Oudolf At Work gave me an even deeper understanding on the origin of the name applied to this planting style. Cassian Schmidt shared in the early 2000’s how when this approach was new, they needed a name to describe planting high impact species that arose from a dominant ground cover layer. He wrote that inspiration came from geology. A rock like a conglomerate or porphyry—that is composed of multiple smaller different rocks—has a fine-grained, uniform material that surrounds and supports embedded rocks and is called the—you guessed it—matrix.

I realize this picture shows a sidewalk instead of a true conglomerate or porphyry, but you can see the idea of the matrix that holds and supports the pebbles. Notice how the matrix is pretty consistent in color and texture. You’ll never look at a pebbled sidewalk the same way again!

Just to clarify this section at Oudolf Field is not a matrix planting. The plants are arranged in clear blocks.

However, this section at Oudolf Field is a matrix planting. There are Echinacea, Dianthus, and more rising out of an undercurrent of Sporobolus heterolepis.

Other Tips for Matrix Success

Many naturalistic, native, or pollinator gardens are planted with the best of intentions. But, without a good ground cover layer, they can become messy and can result in failed projects after a few years. Just like the rock would fall apart if it weren’t for the matrix, the same is true for matrix plantings. They need the permanence of that ground cover layers as relying on too much mulch has to be replaced.

Here are a few tips to keep in mind.

1. Start Small. If this approach is new to you, start small. Install a matrix of short grasses or sedges along the front of a garden bed. Or, use them in an area where you usually use lots of mulch. Also, when you buy matrix plants, they may not be the showiest thing in the garden center. Sure, I love how Sporobolus heterolepis (prairie dropseed) or Carex texensis (Texas sedge) look in my garden, but that may be something you have to grow to appreciate over time.

2. Site Prep Is Everything. A good matrix can still fail if you don’t prep the site well. Try to reduce your weed load as much as possible prior to planting with shallow cultivation, smothering, or solarization.

3. Use Mulch Wisely. I advocate for using a thin layer of mulch in the first year especially with plugs. The goal is not to smother everything, but just to give your young plants a fighting chance while they knit together.

4. Choose Reliable Plants. Matrix planting usually relies on grasses or sedges. That’s because they are reliable ground covers that are long-lived, resilient, and tolerant of a wide range of conditions. Gardeners can also use other herbaceous plants, but in the southeast make sure they are species that persist, especially through heat, drought, and disturbance. Otherwise, you’ll have gaps. You may have to do what I did, and try a whole host of species for matrix plants in a trial spot to figure out what works for you.

5. Plugs vs Seed. I’m not a huge fan of broadcasting seed for the matrix for gardeners who are just learning this process. I’d rather you use small plugs to ensure better coverage and reduce surprises.

6. Install in Phases. Start small. Get a feel for what works well for you. I’ve heard Roy Diblik recommend installing the matrix first and then layering in your feature plants later once it is established.

7. Don’t Overdesign. Keep it simple. One of the biggest mistakes is trying to cram too many species into the ground cover layer. Let your matrix do its job and then build up from there.

Oudolf Garden Detroit

“Oh, no! I forgot my camera!” I said to Karen. She was sitting next to me on the airplane some 30,000 feet in the sky as we were headed to visit her sister in Michigan. Part of the trip was to visit the Oudolf Garden on Belle Isle, but with dad brain and an early departure, putting it in my backpack slipped my mind.

“Can you take pictures with your phone?” she asked, trying to soften the blow. “Yea, I guess,” I replied.

My camera has long been my trusty sidekick visiting gardens around the world. But, leaving it behind would force me to pause and actually appreciate the garden.

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We drove down on Friday, the first day of summer, to see Belle Isle with Karen’s sister’s family. Parts of the park at Belle Isle were originally designed by Frederick Law Olmsted in the late 1800’s, and after a letter from the Garden Club of Michigan, Piet Oudolf was asked to come in and put his signature on a three-acre spot some 150 years later.

We approached the garden from the east side, the side near the conservatory. It was here that we met up with my friend Lindsey Kerr, an extension agent with Michigan State University.

THE GARDEN BEDS

Upon entering the garden, the classic Oudolf style was immediately visible. Even though the garden is still young and will celebrate its 4th anniversary in August, the plantings had largely matured and filled in the space quite effectively. The long vistas provided a wonderful layered effect. From studying the designs in Piet Oudolf at Work and on the Oudolf Garden Detroit website (which I will add is one of the best public garden websites I’ve visited for identifying a garden’s plants based on plant list and interactive map), it became apparent that Piet used a simple approach in designing the space. There would be three primary planting schemes (A, B, and C) across the 15 beds, and each bed with the same letter would mostly repeat the plants. So, perhaps one could consider it to be a modular list of plants that then go into each bed.

Just inside Oudolf Garden Detroit the diversity in the beds becomes apparent.

A view of the beds looking toward the conservatory. From this perspective the turf walkways in between largely fade from view.

Repetition of plants and colors across the site helped to make the garden feel cohesive. Echinacea pallida ‘Hula Dancer’ (pale coneflower) danced across the garden, and in the distance more are visible.

One of the farthest perspectives of the garden from the conservatory.

From this angle looking toward the river you can see the pathways in between the beds where a bench allowed visitors to sit and appreciate the garden. Allium obliquum (twisted-leaf onion) provides a strong presence in this space.

RAIN GARDEN

Lindsey took me to the rain garden on the west end and showed the simple woodland grove that was planted to help filter rainwater off the road. I assumed this side to be the main entrance, and having this more verdant spot reminded me of the pond garden that one sees when entering Oudolf Field at Hauser and Wirth. Right behind the rain garden was the bird border where woody species were planted to help provide food and habitat for birds.

The rain garden looks quite verdant, and in mid-June it is more quiet than the other beds.

Carex bromoides (brome-like sedge) was used as the groundcover layer in this section of the rain garden with Viburnum nudum (possumhaw viburnum) flowering.

MATRIX PLANTING IN THE TRIANGLE BED

We made our way back across the site admiring the plants and combinations as the Red-wing Blackbirds sang their Conk-la-rees and took me back to my childhood days in Tennessee. At the far east edge where we first met up was a matrix planting in a triangle bed that we both admired. It was simple in concept and design and very effective.

The airy flowers of Gillenia trifoliata (bowman’s root) and bold leaves of Darmera peltata (umbrella plant) contrast well with the sedge groundcover.

Further into the bed irises rise out of a sea of Carex.

Lindsey and I parted ways as the rain showers started picking up. I was headed to meet up with Karen and crew, but I decided to huddle under a tree near the matrix planting as radar showed it to be quick to pass.

I noticed a volunteer mowing grass with an electric mower and asked if she knew what the Carex was that made up the matrix. She said no, but one of those green shirt people can help. They were back by the middle of the garden near the Nancy Brown Peace Carillon that towered over the site. They were leading a tour to what appeared to be one of two high school groups. I figured it wouldn’t take long to ask, but I got sucked into their story about the space.

Then, Richard Thomas who is the head horticulturist at Oudolf Garden Detroit walked up with his group. They asked the students what they had learned, and the students commented about the pollinators. Richard then started talking about the history of the site. I remembered that they had a big flood early in the development. He commented that if they had started just a few months earlier that all the plants would have likely been washed away. This flood forced them to move soil up and build up where the plants would be planted.

As I listened I realized that the group of about 20 students would be helping plant Sporobolus heterolepis plugs into the area around the carillon. This area will flood occasionally. They had goats clearing out the middle section around it, but these plants would go in a newly planted area outside. This lower riverside area had issues with invasive species, but their efforts to bring them under control had worked tremendously.

As Richard stepped aside, I caught him to say hi, introduce myself, and inquire about the sedges in the triangle bed. He told me that it was Carex bromoides (brome-like sedge) on the lower end and Carex albicans (white-tinged sedge) on the upper end.

The lower section with more Carex bromoides

The upper section with more Carex albicans

Overall, the sedges were in that post flowering stage where they tend to be more yellow in color.

Bold foliage from Heuchera villosa (hairy alumroot) and the vertical spires of Digitalis parviflora (small-flowered foxglove) contrasts well against the sedge groundcover.

SPOROBOLUS MATRIX

After I got home and started parsing through photos, I remembered that one of the patterns I noticed in the plantings was Sporobolus heterolepis (prairie dropseed) commonly used as the groundcover layer for mini-matrix plantings. It was used very heavily in the B beds, but in the A beds there would be little blocks of it. This grass would serve as the groundcover layer while other species rose out of it.

Allium christophii (star of Persia) and Echinacea foliage rises from the matrix of Sporobolus heterolepis (prairie dropseed).

In another section it was mostly Echinacea rising from the grass matrix.

I really liked this combination of the spears of Ornithogalum ponticum ‘Sochii’ (star of Bethlehem) piercing through the clumps of Sporobolus heterolepis, and it left me wondering how I could replicate this with Liatris or another species.

In this space Sporobolus heterolepis served as a groundcover near these Baptisia × ‘Lunar Eclipse’ (wild indigo). The contrast in textures really helps the Baptisia pop.

THE PLANTS OF OUDOLF GARDEN DETROIT

And, I wanted to share a few favorite plants that I enjoyed during my trip to Oudolf Garden Detroit.

This spot was one of my favorites from the visit. Sure the Asclepias tuberosa (orange milkweed) is lit, but the verticals of Dalea purpurea (purple prairie clover) and Veronica (veronica), the Allium orbs, and the rising perennial towers behind made this area so rich.

Another favorite pairing was this cool-colored section that featured Allium caeruleum (blue globe onion), Salvia sylvestris ‘Rhapsody in Blue’ (wood sage), Eryngium × zabelii ‘Big Blue’, and Geranium ‘Rozanne’ (geranium).

This combination of Achillea x ‘Moonshine’ (yarrow) and Allium christophii (star of Persia) was dynamite due to the contrasting colors and strong differences in textures.

Another pairing that I liked was Asclepias tuberosa (orange milkweed) with Stachys monieri ‘Hummelo’ (betony). But…

…Lindsey and I discussed how this Asclepias might have been a happy accident that seeded in.

Another combination that I liked was Achillea filipendulina ‘Parker’s Variety’ (yarrow) with Ornithogalum ponticum ‘Sochii’ (star of Bethlehem). The upright triangular shapes contrasted nicely with the horizontal corymbs.

This spot was quite beautiful with Echinacea pallida ‘Hula Dancer’, Asclepias purpurascens (purple milkweed), and Salvia yangii ‘Little Spire’ (Russian sage).

Here’s another spot where Asclepias purpurascens stood out. It is such an underused plant.

Blocks of Penstemon digitalis (foxglove beardtongue) punctuated the planting with their pearly white flowers.

I’m posting this photo to educate and mean it in no way to detract from the beauty and hard work of the gardeners. It seems they have the same frustration with Eragrostis spectabilis (purple lovegrass) that I do. A section of it had died out. For me I’ve learned that it’s a ruderal and just doesn’t last that long.

One last shot of the beautiful Echinacea pallida ‘Hula Dancer’.

Using Flower Shapes in Design

Figuring out which plants to use and how to combine them in naturalistic planting can be a struggle. There are so many options. How do we decide which ones to use?

One consideration is the flower architecture and the geometry of the bloom. We take flower shapes and their arrangements for granted. They are the result of thousands (if not millions) of years of co-evolution with pollinators and pollination mechanisms like wind. We call these pollination syndromes. With Pollinator Week upon us, I thought it would be worthwhile to consider how we use the shapes that resulted from this eons-long project in design.

Pat Cullina referenced flower shape when I had him on my podcast and asked about how he considered using plants in design. He said, “I subscribe to the flower’s structural components to be contrasting. Right, like, so the pea family flowers of Amorpha or Baptisia or Dalea or whatever it may be is distinct from the Allium group which is distinct from the petalous flowers which is distinct from the spikes which are distinct from the umbels. And, then you’re doing that sequentially over time.”

His comments made me wonder is there a simple approach that gardeners can use to make sense of flower forms?

KEEPING FLOWER FORM SIMPLE

I’m using the broad term “flower” to discuss the whole visual unit. I should clarify that some flowers are simple while others are compound and seen as many comprising an inflorescence. And, while we could use botanically correct terms like capitulum, corymb, panicle, or others, those terms don’t allow us to consider the visual aspects. And, they can isolate people who don’t have that language.

So, we can turn to basic geometric shapes like we learned in kindergarten to consider how flowers function in design.

I think also distilling it down to simple shapes makes it easier to understand. I’m considering this from the perspective of standing at a distance and thinking about seeing plants at eye level. So, across a planting what is the visual essence that a plant has. And, can we simplify that to make sure that a garden is visually stimulating.

FLOWER SHAPES

Here are some shapes that I consider using in planting design. Remember, anytime we try to simplify artifacts from nature, not everything will fit into the model, and some plants may exhibit combinations of the options below.

DOTS

I consider dots as flowers that are either small and unassuming or no matter which way you view them they appear circular like Monarda (bee balm) or even Aquilegia canadensis (eastern columbine).

Dots of Monarda bradburiana (eastern beebalm)

VERTICAL LINE

Lines are one of the easiest shapes to see. Some species have a simple line like Liatris (blazing star), or they may have lines on lines like with Veronicastrum (Culver’s root). And, lines can curve and twist due to weather or other environmental factors.

Vertical lines of Liatris pycnostachya (prairie blazing star)

HORIZONTAL LINE

Horizontal lines are flat platforms that pollinators can easily access as they walk across. So, think Pycnanthemum (mountain mints), Achillea (yarrow), Parthenium (wild quinine), and more for this category.

Horizontal lines of Pycnanthemum tenuifolium (narrow-leaf mountain mint)

CIRCLES

Circles are rounded flowers like those seen on Hibiscus (hibiscus) and Callirhoe (winecups). I differentiate these from dots because when viewed from different perspectives circles can appear flat.

Circles of Hibiscus ‘Lufkin Red’

ARCS

Some flowers appear as arcs where they are not a perfect circle, but have a rounded dome appearance like Eutrochium fistulosum (hollow Joe Pye weed) and Asclepias purpurascens (purple milkweed).

Arcs of Eutrochium fistulosum (hollow Joe Pye weed)

TRIANGLES

Some flowers are more triangular in profile like Iris, Lilium (lily), and Hymenocallis (spiderlily).

The triangles of Lilium superbum

STARBURSTS

Starbursts are where the floral parts radiate out from a central point like Echinacea (coneflower) and even Rhododendron (azalea). Just be aware that if aster family members hold their rays up then when viewed from a distance they may appear like horizontal lines.

The starbursts of wild Echinacea pallida (pale coneflower)

SPRAY

Finally, sprays are an amorphous shape of dense flowers that resembles someone spraying out of a can or bottle. Some of our grasses fall into the category of sprays like Eragrostis (purple lovegrass) and Muhlenbergia (muhly grass), and even asters can act similarly when they come into bloom in the fall.

Spray of Eragrostis spectabilis (purple lovegrass)

MAXIMIZE THE EFFECT OF FLOWER SHAPE IN DESIGN

Here are a few things to consider when thinking about flower shape in planting design.

1. When you develop a mood board for a planting, sketch out a simple shape to show the inflorescence. That will help ensure that all the flowers don’t look the same. For example, if you use flat-headed Echinacea, Achillea (yarrow), and Parthenium in a planting, they all may be read as a horizontal line when viewed from a distance. Variety will help the eye read complexity across a site.

2. In a particular area, strive to have 3–5 different types of flower shapes. With smaller areas, you likely want less, and for larger areas you can increase their number.

3. Consider how long the floral shapes will last. A triangle shaped lily will only be there for a short time, but the dots of Eryngium yuccifolium (rattlesnake master) will hold through the end of the season.

4. Have a matrix for shapes to pop against. I’ve seen “naturalistic plantings” where it features only floriferous seasonal fillers, and it doesn’t look right. The floral shapes have nothing to truly pop against. Carex (sedges), low growing grasses, and other basal foliage species can provide a foil for them.

5. Keep groups in mind. Have 7 plants of vertical lines rising out of 15 plants that create horizontal lines. Having just one of each next to each other looks weird.

6. Long views are better so that the shapes are more easily viewed.

7. You can also build in repetition of shapes, but to keep it from getting too boring consider repeating flower shapes at different levels. For example, have the dot flowers of Allium low to the ground and higher Eryngium dots on sticks.

Of course flower shape is just one aspect when we are considering the plant architecture and form in naturalistic design. There are many others to think about with how plants grow, how they emerge from their roots, and more.

Join me LIVE on June 30 at 6 PM CDT for my newest webinar Designing with Plant Shape and Form.

This session will help you make smarter, more effective design decisions by understanding how plants grow and how their forms shape the landscape. Plus, we’ll have a q&a right after the session.

• Can’t make it live? No worries! The session will be recorded and shared with all registrants.

• Save your spot now for just $39. The price increases to $49 after June 30.

• Space is limited!

What to Notice About a New Native Plant

“I want to look at a plant coming up here in a second,” I said to Karen as she drove down the road.

“Ok,” she replied.

20 seconds later I said, “Ok, here it is. Pull over at this road.”

“What!?!” She replied going 70 mph. “This soon?” Of course, she missed the turn because of my poor communication, and we had to go down and come back to find the plant.

And, then she safely pulled off onto a side road as she probably wondered why she couldn’t have married an accountant instead.

Such are the adventures of living life with a horticulturist.

There in the right of way was a large clump of a plant I had never seen before. A year ago as we were driving to Tennessee in late May with Karen at the wheel again, I noticed this large clump of white flowers on the side of the road. With the quick glance at 70 mph, I noted it looked like a Penstemon digitalis (foxglove beardtongue), but since mine had finished blooming, it had to be something else since this plant was in full bloom. I recalled colleagues sharing photos on Instagram of a white blooming Physostegia around this time of the year. A quick glance at iNaturalist showed a species nearby, Physostegia angustifolia. But, I would have to get out and investigate further to confirm. By this point we were too far down the road. I grabbed a quick screenshot on my Compass app to note the location. I figured we would be back this way again sometime in late May.

A year later, I could confirm it was indeed Physostegia angustifolia, also known as narrow-leaf obedient plant, or to a certain playful spouse as the marital strife plant for reasons you can surmise from above.

One of my favorite aspects of native plants is that we can actually go nearby in the wilds to see where they grow. And, even more fun is discovering new ones. Normally, I like to grow plants for a bit before I feature them on the blog, but I realized that this encounter would be the perfect time to share a simple approach that I use when I meet a new plant in the wild.

We use a scale to measure mass in science, and I use the acronym SCALE—site, character, association, lens, and envision—to assess a plant’s essence in the wild. It’s a field-based acronym I use for learning about a plant in its native habitat.

• SITE: Where does it grow? Make observations about the soil, light, moisture, slope, and surrounding area. Here it was in a mesic flat spot in full sun. I would have to take a soil test to learn more about the nutritional status, but from looking around other plants were growing well.

• CHARACTER: What does it look like? Note the form, texture, bloom, and structure. Also consider what else do you know about the genus or family that helps you understand the character. Physostegia are in the mint family, thus explaining the large group and the square stems with opposite leaves. I noted the narrow leaves, hence the epithet angustifolia, which means narrow-leaved. They had an upright, fine-textured form that blended in well with the grass. And, the flowers were lovely. In the grassy right of way, their white blooms nodded and looked like little wedding dresses as they waved in the breeze. I didn’t notice much of a fragrance. My guess was the plant has spread via rhizomes, and it was likely all one clone.

• ASSOCIATIONS: What role does it play in its environment? What other plants are nearby? And, does it have any connections with other species? I noticed that nearby were other east Texas species like pines, poison ivy, and sweetgum. I also saw bees were visiting the flowers. These observations can start to give you a sense of the ecological role it might serve.

• LENS: What lens or models like Grime’s Triangle, sociability, and plant layers help you visualize how it grows? The clump was quite large, maybe 15 × 15 ft wide, so clearly it had some competitive tendencies which led to a high sociability value. And, it would likely be a seasonal filler in its role.

• ENVISION: Last, ask how you can envision it in plantings. Is it worth trialing to further observe how it performs before using it large scale? Do you need to understand the phenology and seasonal behavior? I felt this Physostegia is another wonderful option as I look for candidates to help fill this gap that we encounter in late may and early June as we lose the spring flush and summer plantings start to take hold.  My guess is since it is blooming so early, it would likely be dormant by later in the year. And, since the thin leaves hide in grass, using it in a grassy area would help to fill the gap it might leave. And, it would likely need some disturbance to help keep the rhizomes under control.

I feel like some caveats need to be mentioned for stopping alongside a road. Make sure you’re safely off the road. My preference is to find a safe pull off or side road where parking is an option. Be conscientious you are not damaging plant populations, and be aware of any laws regarding plant collecting or trespassing.

I left confident that I had found a new-to-me species to use in naturalistic plantings here in the southeast. SCALE helped me quickly make sense of its identity and its potential.

And, I left promising to buy Karen some coffee to patch things up. The wild has so much to teach us if we have a little curiosity and a patient co-pilot.

Minding the Garden Gap

It’s been a bit of a weird year flower-wise at Ephemera Farm.  Overall, plants bloomed later. Our first Baptisia alba (white wild indigo) flowers that emerged were partially aborted.  They then responded by sending up a second flush, which made them bloom a bit later.  One of my Amsonia hubrichtii (thread-leaf bluestar) waited until late April to emerge.  It’s currently in full flower in mid-May instead of mid-April.  And, my beloved Penstemon murrayanus (coral penstemon) were also much weaker in habit.  

I attribute these observations to a moody February.  We had half a week of temperatures above 80°F (one day was 88°F!), followed by a drop to 17°F on February 19th.  My guess is the warmth began coaxing the plants out of dormancy, and they were stunted with the cold snap.  

Don’t get me wrong. We still had an incredible April as seen in the header image above. It just felt different than previous years. And, I probably still have some lingering anxiety about the aborted Baptisia flowers from a late freeze we had that wiped the plants out a few years ago. It is a dominant anchor during our floral peak, and the round mounds with seed pods above helped carry us through the May gap. Its absence was especially noticeable that year.

However, I realized that even if the Baptisia were gone this year, I’ve really plugged the May gap by filling the garden with plants like Echinacea purpurea (purple coneflower), Hydrangea quercifolia (oakleaf hydrangea), Monarda stipitatoglandulosa (Ouachita beebalm), Rudbeckia maxima (giant coneflower), and Salvia farinacea ‘Henry Duelberg’ (mealy-cup sage) that help carry us through post-peak bloom. By filling the May gap I’ve lessened the effect that the climate can have on one particular wave of bloom, and these plants also help maximize seasonal interest later.

Gaps are periods in the garden where not much captures the eye, nourishes wildlife, or invites engagement. They have often been discussed from the perspective of annual displays. In Succession Gardening for Adventurous Gardeners, Christopher Lloyd wrote about the June gap in English gardens that occur after the winter and spring bedding fades and discussed approaches to mind the gap.  

Gaps also exist in naturalistic plantings.  And, coming at it from the ecological side of things, a lack of flowers can mean less nectar or pollen for insects and animals in the garden.  They can occur in early spring, post-peak bloom, the height of summer when it is hot and dry, or even into autumn and winter. Gaps tend to be an issue especially later in the year because we gardeners either front load the garden with too much for spring and summer or we forget to think forward to autumn and winter, times when the garden needs strong elements to carry us through the last days of the growing season.

I filled our May gap by really paying attention in the garden. I asked the question, “What do I want to see that isn’t here?” I paid attention to views and spaces where we spent our time. Then, I set about identifying and propagating species that could help me fix what was missing.

It takes planning and time to reconcile the gaps we encounter in gardens. We often have to think months ahead because it takes time for plants to grow and develop. Sure, I could go to the garden center and buy plants, but questions arise about cost, availability, and numbers needed. To achieve the effects we want in naturalistic plantings, we typically need large numbers. Plus, it takes time for perennials and woodies to establish to give the garden that feeling of permanence.

There are decisions that I make at this time of the year to maximize seasonal interest for later. Mid-May is a key time for me to complete tasks in my garden to minimize potential gaps in the future.

• I cut back our asters and other fall-flowering perennials like Helianthus sp. (sunflower), Coreopsis tripteris (tall coreopsis), and Hyptis alata (clustered bush mint). Some asters are actually blooming now due to enough vegetative material being up during short days earlier this year.

• Most of our winter annual self sowers and ephemerals are now finished with bloom and are going to seed.  I collect what seed I can that I want to propagate for later, and I remove their tattered stems to freshen the beds.

• I cut back our Carex texensis (Texas sedge).  This species serves as the matrix, and because the culms are very long, they can make the planting look like a bad hair day.  After the May cut back they will reflush within a few weeks to make a nice groundcover of green for the rest of the growing season.

• Finally, I’m taking notes now of changes I want to make next year. I find taking pictures on my phone, circling the changes I want, and saving them in a note labeled 2026 helps to organize my thoughts.

As you come out of this spring’s floral peak, ask yourself does your garden carry your attention through the entire year or just in the spring or summer? Are there gaps that frustrate you, or maybe you haven’t even noticed them yet?

That’s what my new course, The Seasonal Maximizer for Naturalistic Plantings, is all about. It’s on sale through Monday, May 19.

It’s packed with practical strategies and plant pairings that help you identify seasonal blind spots, plug floral gaps, and build a garden that performs ecologically and visually no matter the month.

If you want your plantings to look better, carry their magic through every season, and support more life year-round, this course is for you.

Carex texensis | Texas sedge

One of my biggest challenges for naturalistic planting in the southeast has been finding a consistent grassy groundcover species to serve as a low matrix.  Sure, some forbs can cover the ground, but they often will rise later in the season, causing me to lose my green foil.  

I have tried a number of grassy species. I love the options below and have a number of them in my garden, but they haven’t quite risen to the standard for me to universally use them across the property. 

• Eragrostis spectabilis (purple lovegrass) tends to be short-lived. 

• Muhlenbergia reverchonii (rose muhly) doesn’t take our wetness well (or our cold either it seems from this year). 

• Sporobolus heterolepis (prairie dropseed) does well, but one must have patience in it getting established. 

• Carex cherokeensis (Cherokee sedge) is great especially for wet areas and growing with competitors, but it can choke smaller plants out. 

• Schizachyrium scoparium (little bluestem) can be hit or miss based on the provenance and growing conditions. 

• Andropogon virginicus (broomsedge) and Andropogon ternarius (split-beard bluestem) are seedy and tend to have short lifespans. 

• Carex albicans (white-tinged sedge), Carex leavenworthii (Leavenworth’s sedge) and Carex flaccosperma (blue wood sedge) grow well but can burn in full sun.  

My best option so far has been Carex texensis (Texas sedge), a native that we’ve found on the property here at Ephemera Farm.  I love the thread-like foliage, and I can count on it being green year round.  It can grow in sun or shade and tolerates wet, mesic, and dry conditions well.

When we first moved in, I relaxed mowing a bit to see what was native on the property, and Texas sedge was just one species that I found.  Some of my first clumps I tried in beds were rescues I found on our fence row where hogs had uprooted them.  I was very impressed with how quickly they adjusted to growing in my plantings and how graceful they appeared.  So, I started bringing more clumps into the garden.  

Carex texensis (Texas sedge) grows well in our yard.

Back then I didn’t know what species this great sedge was.  I had bought some Carex texensis from Hoffman Nursery and noted how similar the seed heads were with my wild type.  Charles Bryson helped me sort the identity out.  I saw him helping someone online with keying out a carex, and I shared a few photos with him.  After a few back-and-forths, he showed me how to key out Carex texensis. The only difference between my plants and the ones from the nursery was the culm length.  Mine were much longer.

For plants already in my beds, I prefer to divide them in winter so that they have a chance to establish in the wetter months. The plant slowly propagates itself by expanding the clump so that it can approximately double in size each year.  I then can use a soil knife or sharp shovel blade to slice the clump in half.  One half stays and the other finds a new spot in the garden.  If I’m patient and need to cover more ground, I can even divide the separated clump into smaller pieces.  

A wheelbarrow full of Carex texensis from our yard.

As I’ve worked to fill gaps in new plantings this year, I’ve returned to our yard from whence they came. I prefer to dig these wild clumps while they are in flower so that they are easier to see.  I lift the clump, prick out any weedy stragglers, and then divide it in half if it is large enough.  I water the clumps lightly so that while I’m moving around the garden planting them they are not sitting there drying out.  I cut the seedheads off to let the plant redirect energy and to keep them from looking like a ratty mess of hair.  The seedheads have a way of interlocking together during the transplanting process. 

Clumps of Texas sedge that are large enough can be divided with a soil knife.

Carex texensis clumps ready to go in the ground.

My only complaint is that it can look a wee bit ratty at certain times of the year—fall as the season is winding down (but, let’s be honest, in Texas what’s not looking ratty then?), as we come out of winter, and after they finish flowering with their spindly seed scapes.  For fall, I just accept their senescence, but for late winter and after flowering I give them a good haircut with a pair of shears.  I can tell the plants that haven’t been cut back.  They tend to have more dead foliage in them.  

But, that simple amount of maintenance is worth it to have a reliable, adaptable matrix species for plantings that can provide a green ground cover year round.

A mature Carex texensis with a few Carex leavenworthii in front of it flowers in our garden bed this spring.

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KEEP GROWING

Wisteria frutescens var. macrostachya

I have never been so happy to see a plant flower.  On Good Friday, the first blooms opened on an offspring of my Granny’s wisteria.  

I have such fond memories of seeing it bloom on her front porch throughout my childhood. In talking to mom, she shared that the plant actually dated back to my great-grandmother Mary Lee Conley who loved growing plants.  She lived in the house her husband and my great-granddad Eron Conley had built.  

Mary Lee passed before I was born, but I knew my great-grandfather well.  Mom called him Granddad, and so that’s what I called him, too.  He was the one who let me work in his garden with him and the one that I credit with helping me discover gardening.  We would sit on the front porch watching traffic pass right next to the wisteria in full glorious bloom.

In his later years, his daughter Jane Sanford, my Granny, lived in the house with him and stayed there after he passed.  So, it became known as Granny’s wisteria.  

But, this wisteria was no ordinary wisteria.  It was our native Wisteria frutescens var. macrostachya (Kentucky wisteria).  The thing that I can’t figure out is why in a world of invasive wisteria did Mary Lee plant this wonderful native?  In fact, as a young gardener I heard wisteria was bad, and since I didn’t know how to key it out and figured it was more likely to be an invasive form, I had incorrectly assumed it was one of the Asian species.  

Years later as an intern at The Scott Arboretum in 2008, I read through a book on wisteria at lunch and noticed that my Granny’s plant fit the description and pictures of our southern native.  It had smooth pods, unlike our non-native forms that have pubescent pods.  Also, the inflorescence size is longer than the more northern Wisteria frutescens var. frutescens.  And just to be safe, I confirmed with some horticulture friends that it was in fact Kentucky wisteria with its sweet yet musky fragrance.  

My suspicion is that there had to be a native one nearby in northwest Tennessee that either she or a friend had collected and grown.  While there wasn’t much of a garden around the house, Mary Lee even had a patch of coralberries (Symphoricarpos orbiculatus) in the back yard that lived for years.  So, she clearly had an eye for unique natives.  

You may be wondering by now why I was so happy to see this plant bloom. The original plant died 16 years ago shortly after Granny passed away in 2009.  

Fortunately, I had collected seed the year before.  It was a ritual that she and I would do every few years.  We would pick the pods, shell their hard seed, and put them in a medicine bottle. I had just forgotten that I had put them in my parents’ downstairs fridge. 

During the holidays in 2021, I found the seed and tan pods in the bag with a note from my younger self.  “DO NOT THROW AWAY! Wisteria from Granny’s 11 May 2008.” I figured now that we had a place to grow them it was time to try it in Texas.  

But, were the seeds still viable?  I sowed 18 seed in pots, and was delighted to find that six germinated.  I planted them out here at Ephemera Farm, and two survived. 

Then, it became a waiting game.  Wisteria are notorious for taking a few years to flower from seed.  

I gasped when I saw three flowering buds a few weeks back on the plant I’ve nurtured over the past few years.  This native wisteria is so beautiful, and as I work on exploring our southeastern flora, I’m happy to have a native with such a rich family connection growing here.

I thought how fitting this Easter weekend to share this plant that died and has now resurrected from seed I saved many years ago.  Smelling it takes me back to their house and the many memories from that place.  

That’s the beauty of saving seed.  It keeps the past alive so that we can share it with the future. 

So learn from my story.  Collect seed while you can.  You never know when a plant might perish, and you need to bring it back for enjoyment. And the memories.

Wintherthur and The Scott Arboretum in Early Spring

The first full weekend of spring I travelled to the Pennsylvania area to speak at the Mid-Atlantic Hardy Plant Society’s event March into Spring. This society is a robust community of plant people that has dozens of events throughout the year to help educate and inspire horticulturists. People across the country join to participate in their virtual series and seed swaps. And, locally in the mid-Atlantic region they are well known for hosting tours, workshops, and more.

Along with the presentation I also had the chance to visit Winterthur and The Scott Arboretum for the first time in early spring. Enjoy the photos!

WINTERTHUR

At Winterthur the woods in the March Bank were coming to life with small bulbs. Eranthis hyemalis (winter aconite) had already finished, but Chionodoxa forbesii (glory-of-the-snow) were in full bloom.

A close up of Chionodoxa forbesii with good backlighting

I found myself stooping down to photograph these glory-of-the-snow every few steps.

I chuckled after spending time photographing a small patch of glory-of-the-snow only to find massive carpets of it in bloom like you see here under these Fagus (beech) trees.

I think this trip was my first time seeing Leucojum vernum (spring snowflake) in bloom. We have Leucojum aestivum (summer snowflake) further south, and the corolla isn’t as hexagonal looking as Leucojum vernum.

Light streams across the March Bank and through a Cornus officinalis (Japanese cornelian cherry).

A lovely unknown variety of Narcissus (daffodil) provides pops of color on the March Bank.

What excellent placement for a Chimonanthus praecox (wintersweet)! The low sunlight made these flowers glow like twinkle lights.

In the parking lot, I couldn’t miss the largest Corylopsis pauciflora (buttercup winter hazel) I’ve ever seen.

Corylopsis pauciflora has these short, sweet chains of soft yellow flowers that hang downward.

THE SCOTT ARBORETUM

Before flying home the next morning, I got a special treat—a tour of The Scott Arboretum from the former curator Andrew Bunting. I interned at The Scott Arboretum back in 2008 where Andrew and I first met, and we’ve become good friends and kept in touch over the years.

Behind Andrew in the image above was Magnolia stellata ‘Rubra’, a lovely pink flowered form of star magnolia.

The gardens around the Cunningham House where arboretum staff are housed was well tended as usual. In the front garden Cornus sanguinea ‘Midwinter Fire’ (blood-twig dogwood) and Narcissus ‘Ice Follies’ (daffodil) were providing early color.

By the Wister Greenhouse was a bowl of floating Helleborus (hellebore) flowers for passersby to enjoy.

In the Terry Shane Teaching Garden, Josh Coceano and crew always do a great job creating engaging plantings. White tree trunks echo the color of Parrish Hall in the distance.

I also liked how near the Cunningham House, tree trunks and stems were used as landscape ornaments, path edging, and habitat for creatures.

In the Terry Shane Teaching Garden, Edgeworthia chrysantha (paperbush) was in full bloom. With this taller specimen I could crouch down and photograph up into the flowers. My theory on why the flowers hang down is an adaptation to protect pollen from winter rains.

There were a number of Hamamelis to enjoy on campus. Hamamelis × intermedia ‘Chris’ (hybrid witch hazel) had these orange-zest-colored petals.

A close-up of the wine-colored flowers of Hamamelis japonica (Japanese witch hazel) ‘Tsukabana-kurenai’

Andrew and I both admired how the flowers of Hamamelis × intermedia ‘Westerstede’ pop with the Magnolia denudata behind.

Hamamelis × intermedia ‘Angelly’ was absolutely loaded with frilly soft yellow petals.

The Scott Arboretum also has a renowned collection of magnolias. Andrew and I both stood in awe looking up into this beautiful ‘Candy Cane’. What you don’t see is that the original tree trunk was cut down and regenerated as three trunks. That’s a testament to how tough magnolias are.

Even before we parked I saw this stunning Magnolia denudata ‘Swarthmore Sentinel’ (Yulan magnolia) from the road. Andrew told me that this plant originally came from J.C. Raulston as a seedling he sent to the arboretum.

Larry Langford of Tennessee selected this wonderful double form of Magnolia × loebneri (Loebner magnolia) and named it 'Wildcat'. I wish I had video of the tepals fluttering in the breeze.

In my late winter and early spring travels, I always delight in encountering Stachyurus praecox (stachyurus) in full bloom. Their flowers hang like a long strand of pearls.

This Cornus mas ‘Spring Glow’ (cornelian cherry) was one of the largest selections I’ve ever seen! And, in full bloom it was stunning. ‘Spring Glow’ has a lower chill requirement, which makes it a good selection for areas further south.

I was surprised to see Prunus mume ‘Fragrant Snow’ (flowering apricot) at the arboretum. I feel like I’ve seen them more in the south than the north.

Many trees were underplanted with Helleborus selections as a good groundcover. Note that the gardeners have already removed the tattered foliage of last year. You’ll also notice hellebores can be quite seedy from the picture above. Just be cautious where you place them.

Andrew and I paused to enjoy the simple beauty of these emerging Carex plantaginea (plantain-leaf sedge) flowers. They were planted behind a retaining wall, which made them easy to admire their intricate beauty and to photograph.

The woods near Crum Creek glowed with these little dots of gold from our native Lindera benzoin (northern spicebush). Soon the leaves will emerge and provide food for spicebush swallowtail.

I smiled after seeing these darling little Hepatica acutiloba (sharp-lobed hepatica). I had not seen one in maybe ten years. They would grow in the woods near Raleigh, and I would delight in finding them after a cold winter. (And, my word, the nomenclature on these is so confusing. I’m using World Flora Online for confirming the name is currently Hepatica acutiloba.)

One last shot of The Scott Arboretum before my flight home. The cherry border was underplanted with large swaths of Narcissus for spring color. The perfect place to sit and enjoy a beautiful day.

2025 Philadelphia Flower Show

This spring, I made my way back to the city of brotherly love to speak at the Philadelphia Flower Show. The show this year celebrated Gardens of Tomorrow to help us think about the future of gardening, and the exhibits were just as incredible as last year.

Below you’ll find a slew of photographs that I took to capture the majesty and fantasy of the exhibit. I hope that you find them just as inspiring as I did. And, if you’d like to learn more about what awards were given, you can check them out here.

ENTRANCE GARDENS

The entrance gardens are what one sees when first entering the show. This year, they featured hanging flowers amongst beautiful plantings.

Orchids hanging in glass containers

A close up of roses suspended in glass balls

Just a glimpse of some of the stunning displays created to welcome people into the flower show.

BEST OF SHOW

JENNIFER DESIGNS | Welcoming Wildlife Home

For the floral Best of Show, Jennifer Designs won with this incredible table setting of floral fauxpiaries of creatures we welcome to our gardens. I’d love a seat at this table!

A wider view of Welcoming Wildlife Home to show the whole home created.

For the front of Welcoming Wildlife Home was an inviting planting with a variety of perennials for pollinators.

MARK COOK LANDSCAPE AND CONTRACTING LLC | Signature of Time 

Mark Cook Landscape and Contracting won the Best in Show Landscape for this verdant display featuring a lush mixture of plants.

A host of tropical species set the stage for Signature of Time.

Part of the Signature of Time in a garden is seeing plants grow to maturity, and vines grow enough to cascade over structures.

LANDSCAPE EXHIBITS

LAUREL-BROOK GARDENS | Roots 

My favorite display this year was Roots by Laurel-Hill Gardens. I loved how they created this essence of a vernal pool in a woodland.

They had these two stumperies suspended to appear like floating islands, and they were planted with myriad plants. Also, note the fog machine on the water to augment the mystique of the design.

If you look closely at the left side of the image, you’ll see a windfall tree root system where the hole it left has filled with water. I loved how they celebrated these habitats that many amphibians and other creatures use.

Roots featured this pathway through the space that appeared like a winter woodland where forbs were just emerging for spring.

And, it always amazes me the size of the trees that some of these exhibits install. This Pinus virginiana ‘Wate’s Golden’ (Virginia pine) was a tall focal point that was probably 15 feet high.

And, the Matteuccia struthiopteris (ostrich fern) were a nice touch to add whimsy to the design.

IRWIN LANDSCAPING INC | Outdoor Living 

Irwin Landscapes created a design titled Outdoor Living that featured a modern landscape with abundant opportunities for outdoor experiences.

And, on the other side of their install was a set table that would be lovely for enjoying a meal.

ISHIHARA KAZUYUKI × TREELINE DESIGNZ |Tomorrow’s Eden

Ishihara Kazuyuki and Treeline Design create a copse of wood with Tomorrow’s Eden. To me it resembled the forests of the Pacific Northwest.

One of their cool features of Tomorrow’s Eden was the rolling fog over their pond.

Another shot showing the use of branches in Tomorrow’s Eden.

The back side of Tomorrow’s Eden where the waterfall and trailing water are visible.

APIARY STUDIO | Grass Stains

Apiary Studio’s Grass Stains was designed to celebrate the gardeners of tomorrow—children. The clothes lines above a verdant planting were a whimsical touch, and I liked this nod to the many stains we adult gardeners got on our clothes as kids.

Note the fan to help the clothing move in the breeze. One of the cool things about their exhibit was when you took a picture with a flash…

…some of the clothing would flash back because it had reflective fabric. I love this artistic detail to help heighten the experience.

SUSAN COHAN GARDENS | Field of Vision 25/50 

Susan Cohan Gardens considered the future of gardening in a warmer Philadelphia in their exhibit Field of Vision 25/50. Part of that is water capture. The water tower in the back was a lounge, and the pool acted as a reservoir for water.

FLORAL EXHIBITS

ARRANGE, LLC | Thanks for the Meadow

Arrange showed their appreciation of cut flowers with their exhibit Thanks for the Meadow. This colorful design was inspired by an NPR article that featured a couple that moved to Vermont in 2019 right before the pandemic and started a flower garden because in their isolation. It was such a dazzling array of colors, some real and some dyed and painted.

At the center of their design was a circular arrangement to celebrate the connections formed within communities with plants.

The spray-painted grasses were such an eye-catching addition throughout this whole exhibit.

ROBERTSON'S FLOWERS & EVENTS | Tending Our Roots 

Robertson’s Flowers & Events was inspired by a park in Singapore with their exhibit Tending Our Roots. The sun is rising over a city filled with plants with clouds high in the sky.

Having been to Singapore and knowing that their focus is to become the city within a garden, I loved their fantasy to show how plants can weave themselves into a space.

AMERICAN INSTITUTE OF FLORAL DESIGNERS | Elysium in Chaos: Flowers without Boundaries

The American Institute of Floral Designers celebrated the beauty of chaos in their Elysium in Chaos. Their design shared that beauty comes from not controlling Mother Nature but allowing her to do what she wants.

SCHOOL GARDENS

MERCER COUNTY COMMUNITY COLLEGE | Rooting for Our Future 

Mercer County Community College was Rooting for Our Future with their exhibit showing a wonderful schoolyard garden complete with honeybees and LED growth chamber. Their design focused on managing stormwater, reducing urban heat, helping food insecurity, and improving mental health.

LANKENAU ENVIRONMENTAL SCIENCE MAGNET HIGH SCHOOL | Bloom Where You Are Planted 

Lankenau Environmental Science Magnet High School showed us how students can Bloom Where You Are Planted. They worked to create these plant people in a space full of books and learning opportunity.

LAKESIDE SCHOOL GREENHOUSE | Roots of the Future 

Lakeside School Greenhouse had this cool futuristic set up for Roots of the Future. Note the hydroponic systems they have scattered around.

DELAWARE VALLEY UNIVERSITY | Into the Clouds

Delaware Valley University’s Into the Clouds design considered what gardens would look like in 2150 where artificial intelligence reigns supreme and from your couch you can immerse yourself in gardens around the world.

OTHER SIGHTS

I have to give it to Visit PA. Their choice of Hamamelis vernalis ‘Quasimodo’ with the Welcome to Pennsylvania sign was a great color echo of the yellows and browns.

I’m a sucker for good plant tags, and I loved this name-on-stake approach Visit PA used.

One of my favorite smaller designs was this pocket garden Through the ‘Pitcher’ Window. It was a nod to Sarracenia (pitcher plant) windows, the colorful spots where light comes in.

And Horticourt was full of a plethora of plant submissions. Of note was this Amorphophallus (corpse flower) that was ripe with smell!

Autumn Sowings and Spring Seedlings

And, just like that, March is here.

If I’m honest, spring has crept up on me. Maybe it’s the travel for plant presentations or the busyness of fatherhood.

We were also 17 °F and 23 °F two mornings a couple weeks ago. The cold is still fresh on my mind and still tangible in the soil.

But, the warming days are spurring growth along. All around us the earliest wildflowers and ephemerals are emerging right on cue with this first week of March.

With the growing to do list of spring, I’m glad that I’ve been preparing for this growing season. Much of the prep work we did earlier in winter readying the garden for spring is now paying off. Transplants are rooting in and emerging, clumps I divided are producing fresh shoots, and autumn-sown seedlings are revving up their growth.

With new species where I’m learning the knacks of propagation, I like to autumn sow wild-collected seeds outdoors in trays or pots to mimic natural conditions. It helps me understand if that practice is enough to have successful germination or if I need to craft a better strategy.

While some seeds are just now sprouting, others have been growing all winter and capturing the precious sunlight of short days to be ready to pounce once warmer weather arrives.

Scutellaria integrifolia (helmet skullcap) seed was new to me this past fall. It’s a great spring flowering native with rich blue flowers.

Scutellaria integrifolia (helmet skullcap) flowering

Scutellaria integrifolia seedlings

Once it finishes flowering, it produces these little tractor seat capsules that release seeds. And, last fall I collected some seed here in east Texas. Mid-November sowings had visible cotyledons in early December, and now plugs are plump and well rooted to provide more spring color.

I’ve been wanting for a few years to acquire the local evening primrose species Oenothera rhombipetala (four-point evening primrose), and last fall, I finally had good luck finding the dried seed capsules on a sandy hill nearby. Seeds were sown in mid November, and by the end of the month they had already germinated. I watched as they would tinge maroon with each passing cold snap only to green up with warming weather.

Oenothera rhombipetala (four-point evening primrose) flowering

Oenothera rhombipetala seedling

I spent this week planting out both species in the garden along with Steptanthus maculatus (clasping jewelflower). While I have seedlings that pop up here and there, this calciphile usually needs a dusting of limestone in the hole to provide good growing conditions in our acidic soil. So, I find growing my own seedlings in winter and then transplanting them out a good way to ensure success.

Some of you may have noticed the unique trays I’m using to grow seedlings. I really like these Winstrip trays from Neversink Farm for seed propagation. The airspace helps to root prune rootballs so they are ready to grow once put into the soil. While I recognize plastic trays are a problem, one approach is to purchase extremely durable trays that will last years longer than thinner options. And, seedlings pop out the empty bottom very easily for transplanting.

There are other signs of seeds sown last year germinating. Trillium, Silphium, Rudbeckia, Asclepias, and more are breaking dormancy with the warming weather. And, now with the time change, we have more light and more time in the evenings to enjoy the garden, plant seedlings, and watch them grow.

Want to grow more plants from seed? Then, learn from my engaging bootcamp Success with Seed Sowing!

Practical tips will help you reduce the time it takes to germinate seeds from scratch and reduce the effort needed. You will learn seed basics, the science of seed germination, and the practice of starting seed from sourcing seed until it is ready to go in the ground.

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KEEP GROWING