By Karen Bussolini        

In May and June, memory of early spring's bright, simple colors fades into a dream of apricots and lavenders, deep sexy hues and complex color combinations. While it's a time to savor, it's also a good time to look backward. Early on, while somber tones of winter still linger, we're so starved for the company of flowers that we welcome all that blooms, whether in the garden beds or the larger landscape. But those brash early rising characters - brassy golds and Easter-egg pinks, with an occasional burst of scarlet/coral - don't necessarily make sympathetic garden companions. In fact they scream at each other in a way we wouldn't put up with for a minute at any other season. I really go for vibrant, high-key color, but the visual assault of forsythia, flowering cherries and quinces jumbled together on every block gets on my nerves. Now, while we still remember the jarring parts of our gardens, is a great time to plant some felicitous companions, to invite the other colors of spring, enjoy them for the rest of the summer, and look forward to next year's beauty.

I think about color in the garden the way I plan a dinner party. When guests have enough in common to be comfortable, and enough differences to bring variety, they engage with each other. There's magic, sparkle, lots of back-and-forth. I think about who would like each other. I wouldn't invite loudmouths unless I adored them and treasured their other redeeming qualities, which I often do. I might be inclined to surround them with those who would appreciate their finer side, and tone down attention-seeking behavior. On the other hand, dynamic characters playing off each other can make for a lively experience if you pick the right ones.

One gardener's favorite color might be like nails on a chalkboard to another. Before I get rid of something that sticks out like a sore thumb, I consider that maybe the problem isn't the color itself, maybe it's how it's used - and challenge myself to figure out how to make it work. Part of the problem in early spring is that there's so little context. A few flowers poking up out of bare earth or a single shrub surrounded by bare sticks does not a garden make. Giving early bloomers thoughtfully chosen companions, rather than dotting them around here and there, is a good way to provide that context. Once we start looking around for other colors, we find there are many ways to avoid personality clashes. The golden branches, delicate chartreuse flowers, and new leaves of weeping willow placed behind forsythia, for example, would speak to its warmth, but create a more harmonious effect; a snazzy vibrant coral flowering quince might be happier paired with a pastel shade of the same hue or something darker that picks up its underlying red tones. A big dose of white - spiraeas, magnolias, cherries - would keep the peace between conflicting hues. Intricate and subtle combinations are great at intimate scale, and are fun to play with. The visual impact of large shrubs and trees calls for large-scale plantings - masses of ground-covering perennials, bulbs, groups of shrubs or trees - to have an effect. Whatever the scale, anything that shows color - not necessarily bloom - at the same time is fair game for the guest list. House color, hardscape elements and even garden furniture and ornaments can make wonderful contributions, but I'm going to focus on plants.

With the wacky weather we've been having, you can't count on many flowers to show up at the right time, or the same time every year. An infestation of voles, or a couple 80-degree days can derail the most carefully considered pairings. But bulbs such as Scilla sibirica, Galanthus nivalis (snowdrops) and a whole slew of daffodils that start out early and keep going for many weeks are a good bet. Hellebores are champs, with subtle flowers in hues of white, chartreuse, buttery yellow, ivory, rosy pink and deep burgundy that last for months and have an attractive presence even as they fade. I'd grow them for the foliage alone, which provides a bold-textured evergreen presence that gets cut back just before they bloom and re-emerges as flowers fade. Early and long-flowering Cornus mas (Cornelian cherries) and Lindera benzoin (spicebush), grown as large shrubs or small trees, create a long-lasting soft haze of small greenish gold blooms that speak to, and moderate, brighter yellows on a larger scale.

I have come to rely on colored foliage, especially golds and silvers, which look good with everything, to keep my deer-infested mountainside garden looking like a garden year-round. Although munching herbivores have discouraged me from planting colored conifers, these obviously present many opportunities for colorful backgrounds and accents that tie together garden scenes. I think of a handful of perennials and woodies with colored foliage that persists into winter, or appears on the scene very early, as my "foul weather friends." They add complexity and nuance, present many opportunities for color echoes, contrasting hues and zippy combinations in the cold months - and keep up the good work as the garden colors up. Those that bloom early add extra spark.

Chartreuse-to-Gold

Helleborus foetidus: Chartreuse bracts display against deep green glossy foliage before flowers open and after they have passed. Great with daffodils, but I can't think of anything they don't look good with.

Euphorbias of all kinds, with high-impact yellow-green bracts and tiny yellow flowers that make lively contrasts with their own foliage and surrounding plants.

Deutzia 'Chardonnay Pearls': Early emerging gold-green leaves.

Spiraea thunbergii 'Ogon': Wands of long-lasting white flowers are soon followed by cheerful green-gold leaves.

Acorus gramineus 'Ogon': A grass-like iris relative, striking in golden masses all winter. I enjoy it with the sunny flowers of winter aconites, the earliest daffodils and grape hyacinths, and then cut it back to encourage fresh new clear yellow growth.

Yucca 'Golden Sword': like a ray of sunshine all winter. The more I plant the better I like my garden.

Lamium maculatum 'Beedham's White': Bright clear yellow foliage emerges early, flowers are white.

Sedum 'Angelina': Yellow-chartreuse ground-covering sedum with decidedly orange-russet winter tones.

Carex elata 'Bowles Golden': An amiable golden grass with graceful linearity for textural contrast, good until very cold weather or deep snow. New spring foliage emerges blue-green, mixed with and turning to yellow.

Silver-Grey-Blue

Nepeta x faassenii 'Six Hills Giant': grey-green fuzzy leaves have a presence into December and emerge very early to form a neat mound if old woody stems are cut back.

Stachys byzantina: good old lambs ears and it's refined, slightly less silvery cultivar, 'Helene von Stein' are my mainstays. They last long, refresh early in spring and no matter what you put them with, they somehow bring harmony while also being great for contrast.

Brunnera macrophylla 'Jack Frost': Who could design a more beautiful leaf? Silver heart-shaped green-ribbed leaves are exquisitely drawn. Emerging early in neat clumps topped by intensely azure forget-me-not-like flowers, leaves enlarge and become more silver as the season progresses.

Pulmonarias: I have developed a woodland carpet of silver lungworts with luscious blue, raspberry and pure white flowers under spring-blooming witch hazels, accompanied by various hellebores and early spring bulbs. Starting with silver cultivars, I simply let them self-sow and weed out anything with wimpy flowers or non-silver foliage.

Buddleia 'Nanho Blue': This butterfly bush keeps dry silvery leaves in mild winters and refreshes them early in spring.

Euphorbia myrsinites: Waxy, intensely blue "donkey tails" have something interesting to say all winter and are stunning with contrasting, intensely acidic chartreuse bracts in spring.

Dusky Reds

Helleborus x hybridus: Any of the deep dark hellebores add a decidedly sophisticated note, whether accompanied by complex rose-toned hybrids, repeating purple tones of delicate Anemone blanda or in high-key conversation with blue Scilla sibirica.

Euphorbia amygdaloides 'Purpurea': Deep dark mysterious foliage containing tones ranging from deep green, almost gray to brilliant claret, topped by a gentle chartreuse at bloom time - a built-in red-green contrast.

Penstemon digtalis 'Husker's Red,' 'Dark Towers', Penstemon hirsutis var. pymaeus. Herbaceous penstemons, cut back after bloom, hold their ground with purple-deep red leafy rosettes only enhanced by a coating of frost.

It's fun to keep adding color that sustains the conversation over time. On one section of my back slope, dark glossy hellebore foliage and Buxus 'Green Gem' against lichen-covered grey granite boulders are the constants. The hellebore hybrids bloom a deep burgundy red, repeated in the stems of Itea virginica 'Henry's Garnet,' joined by chartreuse Helleborus foetidus (stinking hellebores). By February, a vigorous patch of heirloom snowdrops and bluish-green daffodil foliage accompanies them. As the snowdrops (also sporting bluish-green foliage) fade, graceful white Narcissus 'Thalia' carry on the almost-black and white theme for a very long time.

The blue-greens and yellow-greens get along with each other nicely and the dark/light contrast gives it punch. As various yellow, yellow-cupped white and yellow/orange daffodils arrive at the party, they draw a small (and kept that way) forsythia that will later sprout golden variegated leaves into the conversation without allowing it to dominate. The hellebores keep going strong as various gold and chartreuse favorites - Lamium, Carex, Tradescantia 'Sweet Kate', Spiraea 'Gold Mound' - and whites repeat and amplify the theme and make bare ground disappear. White 'Thalia' daffodils spiking through 'Chardonnay Pearls' Deutzia's pale green-gold new leaves on arching branches is particularly pretty. Intensely purple and blue early bulbs - Scilla, Iris reticulata, grape hyacinths and others - drop in on occasion to spice things up and add a cheerful zing against that bright yellow forsythia, followed by spikes of deep purple-blue ajuga (with dark reddish leaves) scampering here and there.

This spring, an uninvited guest provided a new challenge: last fall I ordered deep violet hyacinths to accompany the blues, keep company with deep burgundy, vibrate against yellows, and carry on a dark/light contrast. They came up Pepto Bismol pink. I could dig them up, but it's been kind of fun imagining different scenarios that might make that color work within the big scheme. With a color like that in summer, I might really turn up the heat in this predominantly yellow-foliage area by adding a sizzling orange, magenta, and deep dark purple. But such an assertive combination doesn't feel right in a passage that celebrates spring's delicacy. I looked around the garden to see if there were any good companions to transplant into the scene, and held a couple leaves next to the hyacinth to test the idea.

I thought the deep reds of Heuchera 'Frosted Violet', Euphorbia 'Bonfire' or Ajuga 'Caitlin's Giant' might work, but they set up too strong a contrast. Maybe I'll move some closer to the hellebore to give it deep-toned company instead. Complex rosy hellebores seemed out of character with such a simple clear color. Clear blue and pink together seemed too Easter egg-y. So I'm starting my list for the fall bulb order right now, while it's fresh in my mind, and marking the area. I decided that mingling the pink hyacinths with apricot ones would modulate the color (making it more subtle), and transplanting silver lambs ears and chartreuse Helleborus foetidus seems like it will work. And I'll try again for deep violet, maybe snuggled close to the burgundy hellebores. But as I shop, I'll be looking for other candidates. The great luxury of a well-stocked nursery is that you can carry pots around and see how plants will get along before you invite them home. After all, it's your party and you should be able to please yourself in your own garden.

Karen Bussolini is a garden photographer, writer, lecturer and eco-friendly garden coach who gardens in South Kent, Connecticut. For information on her slide talks, go to  www.greatgardenspeakers.com/listing/karenbussolini.html.

© 2012 Karen Bussolini 

What I Know...   

By Andrea Busk     

One of the best things about Oliver's is the ability to come into our nursery and really talk about plants and design. We LOVE to talk about plants. We are passionate, opinionated, and occasionally, too long winded. Nonetheless, you can't help but catch our enthusiasm and come away knowing a bit more than before.

As the annuals manager, one of the topics I get enthusiastic about sharing with my customers is how to put together better containers. I often see the drooping faces of customers as they look enviously at our beautifully planted containers and I imagine they think "I can't do that." To them I say, "Yes you can!" Containers are a perfect place for experimentation - feeding that hot tropical urge or that quaint cottage garden look, trying one thing one year and another entirely different look the next. The truth is that there is never one perfect look for a container: there are many, and with a couple of pointers, you are well on your way to designing this year's 'perfect' container.

Size Does Matter

I know they say it doesn't, but it does. It is simply too difficult to get a really great look in a pot that only holds three plants. In my opinion, small pots should be the hosts of a single specimen plant that really says "Wow!" or used in the foreground of a group of containers with plant material that compliments the whole.

Smaller single specimen pots let you highlight that particular plant's attributes, give the plant room to grow, and make it a cinch to bring in and overwinter. This is an especially good idea with some of our fabulous new Begonias. They look good all on their own, and make excellent house plants - requiring only bright light and a minimum of water all winter. Or try mixing a couple of our interesting succulents in separate pots near a pot of grass, and another pot of bright yellow or orange Portulaca.  It's a stunning combination.

With large containers, however, you really can go for incredible visual impact. If it's a large specimen, like a banana plant or a Colocasia (Elephant-ear), it will look voluptuous, especially after it takes some of that generous pot room to grow. You will also have the capacity to under plant these large specimens, adding to the overall effect. If you decide to plant a mixed container in a large pot, that's where some serious fun can be had. Being able to put anywhere between seven to 15 plants in a pot almost ensures that it will be voluptuous and incredible. In fact, it's really hard to make a mistake here if you pick your color way, add some height, some trailers, and then add some foliage or texture to really set the whole thing off. Really - this is supposed to be fun and satisfying, so indulge yourself and don't be afraid to experiment with new and different plants.

Larger containers are also easier to manage throughout the season because they don't require constant care. Their watering and fertilizing needs are less frequent because there is ample room for the roots to get these nutrients, making for fuller, healthier plants and better looking containers.

Hey You, Down in Front

I know we all understand that shade containers should have plants that can tolerate shade, and sun containers should contain sun-loving plants, but your container may have more than one of these environments. Very frequently I am asked to design a container for the front entrance to someone's house. Many of these sites have overhangs, or the container itself may contain plants that act as shade to the plants located in the back of the container. In this case, that sun lover you put in the back of your container will be a leggy, ugly plant, not worthy of the rest of your container. Make sure you understand the sun/shade situation of both the location of your container and the position of the plants you put in the container. There is always a suitable part-sun/shade plant that we can add to your 'sun' container that will complement the design and maintain the fullness and health you want overall.

Flowers, Flowers Everywhere

You CAN have too much of a good thing, and having only flowers in your container can end up looking like a big mish-mash. I personally love foliage and texture, and you may have noticed quite a few of our pots at the nursery contain only foliage plants. But, if you are not ready to go cold turkey on the flowers just yet, there really is nothing better than a sweet flower set off by another plant with large, beautiful leaves. Foliage and texture added to your containers will make your flowers look better - no question! So try some. We have incredible foliage plants: multi-colored Coleus leaves, frosty silver trailers like Dichondra, succulents with great architectural structure (one of my current obsessions), and the list just goes on and on.

Do What You Wanna Do

Every year I get customers who come in ready to design their pots, and get asked what plant or plants I like. Well, wait a minute - whose pot is this? What do YOU like? There is no right or wrong answer - just personal choice and some fun. We will always be there to guide you in selecting plants that are appropriate for your container, and will offer you many design suggestions, but in the end this container should make you happy. Have fun, try some crazy plant that attracts you, experiment like crazy, because that is what makes containers different from your garden beds - you can change them every year. Containers are a great place to experiment and discover your inner design preferences. No one gets good at this without a couple of failures (we have had more than our share, too) and plants don't always perform like we want them to, but that is the way we learn to do things better.

So come on. Give it a try. Have fun. And let's see what your 'perfect' container looks like this year!