THE WORST-CASE SCENARIO GUIDE TO PRUNING

To my knowledge there is no garden task that strikes fear into the heart of gardeners so much as pruning. By my estimation, the two most likely explanations for this are:

1. We've all been scolded and made to feel bad/silly/stupid for pruning incorrectly.
2. We live in perpetual fear of killing plants by pruning incorrectly.

There are rules for pruning. Oh boy are there rules. Start with the hardest: When to prune? There's no doubt that there is a better time to prune to maximize future flowering and keep the shrub or plant looking its best. But how is a gardener supposed to keep track of what to prune when, when everything seems to have its own very specific set of rules?

This is a newer cultivar of Spirea that only gets lightly shaped after blooming, but older varieties can turn into woody, ugly behemoths if not pruned at all. 

Then there is the question of how much we're supposed to be pruning, and how should we physically prune?

Most of the answers aren't that hard to remember:

WHEN: Spring-blooming shrubs generally set their flowers on "old wood," aka the previous year's growth, so if you prune anytime between late summer and early the following spring, you'll be cutting of the flower buds. Summer- and fall-blooming shrubs can be cut back in very late winter or very early spring (in my zone 5 garden this typically involves walking through a bit of snow). It's generally safe to prune right after flowering, but on something like Virburnums, you would be cutting off the branches where beautiful berries will form.

HOW MUCH: The general rule of thumb is to not prune more than 25 percent of a shrub or tree's growth in a year. Some push that to 33 percent, but I err on the side of a quarter.

HOW: To keep it simple, you at least want to prune back to something, usually a branch but maybe a leaf node at least. Often you may want to consider something called rejuvenation pruning, where you remove some of the oldest branches/stems all the way to the ground.

Of course there are finer points that go well beyond these. As gardeners get more into gardening, as is usually the case, these details become second nature. But in the meantime I feel like the gardeners who know those details are doing a good job of scaring the pants off new gardeners who may quickly decide that gardening is too complicated and they don't have time or space in their brain for such details. And that's sad, because while it is certainly better to have intimate knowledge of how and when to prune every plant we grow, the world will not end if you don't.

In other words, let's stop spreading the fear of pruning.

In fact, while some people may tell you that you MUST prune at a certain time, I'd like to challenge that idea. And by the way, I'm not alone. Christopher Lloyd, the late, great British gardener who did much to influence how we think of gardens today at his Great Dixter, has said that the best time to prune is when you have the tools in your hand and you think of it.

"The wrong time may be the only opportunity and a preferable alternative to not doing something at all," he wrote in The Adventurous Gardener. "Or it may not be the wrong time, contrary to accepted practice as quoted in gardening literature, if you act cannily. It's all very well to accept received advice and opinions gratefully and at face value when you're starting, but we graduate. You'll make mistakes but you'll perhaps learn not to mind making them. That's a great release from all sorts of inhibitions."

In other words, it's far better to prune at the wrong time than it is to not prune at all, which is a far more common and possibly egregious crime against horticulture. (Exception: There are many shrubs, that, when planted in an appropriate location can and should be allowed to live their lives with little to no pruning, short of removing dead wood.)

I planted this Viburnum plicatum 'Mariesii' in an area where it will be allowed to grow to its full size, maybe 10 feet tall and wide or more, so I will never need to prune it for size. 

Sometimes, when considering doing something in life that I'm not entirely comfortable with, I think, "What's the worst that could happen?"

And I believe that might be a good approach to pruning as well. If you have the time and the tools handy, what's the worst that could happen if you prune a shrub at a less than optimal time? And in most cases the answer is that you'd negatively affect its next flowering period. So is that so terrible? Well, it probably is if it's the shrub around which you planned your entire garden, or if you have a garden wedding planned specifically for when a particular shrub blooms.

Hydrangeas, perhaps more than any other shrub, strike fear into the hearts of gardeners when it comes time for pruning. This is Hydrangea panniculata Limelight, which blooms on new wood at the ends of branches. I cut it back somewhat hard (some years more than others) in late winter, and in recent years have taken out the oldest stem all the way to the base to encourage new growth. What's the worst that would happen if I didn't prune it that way? If I failed to prune it all it would still flower, but it would get to its full size, 8 or more feet tall and eventually dead wood, if not removed, would sully its appearance. If I pruned at the wrong time, I would probably get later, fewer and smaller flowers (if pruned well into spring) or maybe nothing different would happen if I pruned in fall instead of winter.

To me, the worst-case scenario of something that could happen to a shrub is that you'd kill it, and providing that you follow the other two rules (particularly the one about how much to prune), it's unlikely you'll do that.

Now think about the worst-case scenario if, year after year, you forget to prune a shrub when you are supposed to and never touch it because you don't want to prune at the wrong time. You may end up with an overgrown shrub that outgrows its location and is so badly shaped that it can't be salvaged. And then you end up taking it out, probably after several years of looking at a pretty ugly shrub. In effect, you make the decision to end it's life.

The point is this: No one wants to reduce flowering accidentally, but I think it's time we stop acting like pruning at the wrong time is one of the seven deadly sins. Not to mention, Lloyd's point about making mistakes is a good one: Sometimes it's the best way to learn in the garden.

Rather, I'd counsel gardeners to check a good gardening reference book or even Google (add .edu to the end of your search and you're more likely to quickly get to more reliable information) for pruning information for their specific plant if they know what it is. But if you don't and you have the tools in your hand and you know it's likely the only time you'll have for the job, go for it.

What's the worst that can happen?

THE BEST PLANTS IN THE EARLY FALL GARDEN

It's an unsettling time in the garden. Part of me looks around, thinks about all the tasks that must get done before it gets too cold out to want to do them and wants to just get on with it, and the other part of me realizes that the garden is still looking fantastic. 

And a walk around the garden shows that the best looking plants right now are also, in general, among the easiest to care for. In fact, with one exception, the most I have deal with any of these plants is once a year. That's it. One tiny little bit of attention paid to them once.

Anything that requires that little care and provides this much pleasure is surely an all-star.

Korean feather reed grass is full of the most lovely fluffy flowerheads right now. The only thing I do to it is cut it back in late winter or very early spring. I supposed some day I'll have to divide it, but that's a rarity.

It provides a great backdrop to the thick, ruffly leaves of Gingko biloba 'Gnome'. Or is it the other way around?

Hydrangeas are the gift that keeps on giving. I can't imagine a garden without them. The panicle hydrangeas in particular shine at this time of year. This is 'Bobo', which is now in its fourth month of bloom (seriously, it started in June) and is now showing almost neon pink coloring.

'Quickfire' hydrangea has been pink for at least a month (hence the name), and is still looking great.

Hakonechloa is a good-doer all around, but 'All Gold' in particular shines in autumn light. Again, all I do to it is cut it back in late winter and I only divide it when I want more of it, which it happily provides.

Hakonechloa macra 'Stripe it Rich' gets great seed heads this time of year.

While all the plants around it are starting to look tattered, especially the slug-damaged hostas and the deer-munched 'Incrediball' hydrangeas, the groundcover Lamium maculatum 'Pink Chablis', seems to always look fresh and lively.

It wouldn't be early fall in the garden without Rudbeckia. It's the standard by which all fall-blooming perennials should be measured. I cut it back in spring, leaving the stems standing for the birds and winter interest.

Sedums just sit back as the unnoticed wallflowers all summer, but come early fall, they are stars. I also leave the standing over winter and I try to cut them back in about June to keep them a little stockier and prevent flopping.

Not all that is beautiful in the early fall garden is foliage or flower. These berries on Viburnun x juddii are so bright and shiny. I will enjoy them until the birds find them. I literally do nothing to this shrub other than admire it. What more can you ask for?

Roses hardly fall under the "low maintenance" category that the rest of these plants fall under, but it would be remiss of me to ignore them in a listing of the best plants in the garden in early fall. Here in zone 5, now is the time when most roses get a stunning second flush of flowers, so long as the gardener has been diligent about deadheading earlier in the year. This is 'The Alnwick Rose', which I planted in late spring.

Nature has a way of reminding us to enjoy every day and not rush to what's coming next. Plants like this are proof.



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FRIDAY FINDS

How did it get to be Friday again? Specifically a Friday late in August? Sometimes it feels like the world is spinning a bit too fast.

Loi Thai photo

Have you seen Loi's fabulous Limelight hedge? I can't believe it's only three years old. (Stephen, if you're reading this I'm sure you knew I'd put this in today! :) )

This lesson on lawn shape is one I completely agree on and learned for myself a few years ago (which you can read about here and here).

I'll have to address this on the blog, but once again I am growing a giant zucchini plant that is producing very little in the way of actual zucchinis. Have you ever heard of such a thing? If I do get some (or find a friend with too many), I'm going to make this.

I wanted to give you a sneak peek of what's coming up on the blog soon. We have two interesting design related projects that I'm going to be looking for you to weigh in on.

The first is something I'm really excited about. A friend in Maine is moving to a new house with a huge yard that it currently almost all grass. She's an avid gardener who is not afraid of or unaccustomed to putting in time in a garden, but the slate is so blank she's looking for some insight into what she should do in this yard.

This isn't a great Google photo but you get the idea of what I mean when I say "blank slate."

Once we get a drawing pulled together we'll lay out some desires and requirements and then we're going to ask you, dear readers, to tell us what you'd do if this were your yard.

This is a photo of the circle garden from a couple years ago taken early in the season. It's now in shambles, overgrown and poorly designed. I'm ready for a change.

As I mentioned a few weeks ago, I think my circle garden is due for a refresher, which means I'm going to clear it out in fall in preparation for spring planting. That means that I'll have to make some decisions about what I'll be keeping and what will stay or move elsewhere, and since I'm feeling a little scatterbrained about it, I'm going to throw some options out here and see what you all think.

So that's what's coming up soon and that's it for this week, folks. I have some sailing and gardening on the agenda. You know ... summer stuff. May it continue for many weeks to come.

REVIVAL OF A GARDENER'S SOUL

This weekend was one of those amazing gifts that Mother Nature throws our way every once in a while that revive the sleeping soul of a gardener. Saturday was in the 50s and we set a record on Sunday with temps in the low 60s. This is pretty much unheard of for Wisconsin in February.

Check it out: Signs of life!

The snow is melted in all but the lowest, shadiest spots where it was piled up. My earliest daffodil is poking its head up, and when I pulled back the leaves on the hellebores, fat buds were standing tall. Little green shoots are coming up where I think I planted some snowdrops (I'm never label that stuff) and birds were singing all weekend long.

After attending a garden seminar Saturday morning (a lovely presentation on fragrant gardens by Mark Dwyer, director of horticulture at the fabulous Rotary Botanical Gardens in Janesville, Wisconsin), I enjoyed just poking around outside. The yard is in a typically disasterous state. There are plants that weren't cut down in fall to be dealt with, huge piles of leaves and all sorts of other messes. But I know well that it's too early to be doing a big spring cleanup. In fact, we're due for more snow Monday night into Tuesday and frigid temperatures are certainly in the realm of possibility.

The stem I really wanted to take out was the one farthest to the right in this photo, but that would have left the shrub hopelessly unbalances. Instead I took out the one sticking out at an odd angle on the left, leaving three large main stems. 

I did break down and prune the big Limelight hydrangea. It felt good to get something real accomplished. As I've been doing for the past few years, I pruned out one of the oldest stems all the way to the ground, and then just did some light pruning around the top, focusing on crossing branches and shape. There is a large stem in the back that I would have liked to take out, as there is no growth at all on it until about three feet up, but removing it would have left the shrub seriously out of balance. There are lots of new shoots near it where I took out a big branch last year, so I'll give those some time to develop before I take that big guy out of there.

It felt early to me, but looking back, I see I did it in early March last year. The difference being that I had to walk through a lot of snow then.

I also spent some time organizing my abundance of seeds. It is safe to say I have completely gone off the rails this year as far as seed starting goes. I have way too much. I'm going to try to restrain myself from starting too much of any one thing so I have room. I also worked on updating my seed starting spreadsheet for this year to adjust dates based on my experience last year and add in the new varieties I'll be trying. In doing so, I realized that technically I should have been starting sweet peas this weekend. In addition to not being set up at all for that, I'll be out of town later this week and I like to be able to keep daily watch on seedlings, especially something like sweet peas that I'm highly emotionally invested in. So the first seed sowing will happen next weekend.

And, because it was just way too nice outside to spend one more minute inside, I grabbed all my garden tools and took them to the sunny spot on the front patio and gave them all the cleaning and sharpening I should have done back in December. I washed all the dirt off the handles and gave the wood handled tools a light coat of linseed oil, and then shined up all the blades and sharpened them all, and gave them little touch of light oil. I even went so far as to completely take apart my Bahco pruners to really get in there and get all the dirt out and then sharpen them up and oil the mechanics. It is so nice to have everything ready to go the moment it's time.

THREE PLANTS I'LL GROW THIS YEAR

Much of the past decade of gardening at my house has been an alternating pattern of creating new gardens and improving existing gardens. A couple years ago I realized that I probably have as much garden square footage as I can handle (and frankly probably too much) at this point in my life, so my focus has shifted to refining the existing gardens, some of which were installed in haste and not well thought out.

I don't regret just getting on with those gardens, because as we know, gardens are ever changing, one of many reasons why gardening never gets boring. I've made no secret of the fact that some of the first gardens I created were not really designed at all, but had random plants plunked in them. Now, as I revisit those areas, I'm taking a much more conscious and measured approach in my plan. My color and plant palette is more restrained (although still probably not restrained enough) and I give much more thought to plants selection.

Last fall I cleaned out a large section of what I call the patio garden, the most prominent garden we have. For years, much of that part was filled with rudbeckia and anemones that were allowed to spread out. Both are excellent plants that I wouldn't be without, but I struggled to make them work in that location and constantly struggled with plant combinations. I incorporated a fair amount of compost and leaf mold to refresh the soil there so a blank slate will await me in spring.

It looks like a complete mess in this photo that I took in fall, with overgrown annuals surrounding it. But I have a vision of a more refined space.

Although I've not worked up a complete planting plan for the area, I've selected three plants that will make up a bulk of the planting there (and that I'll repeat farther east in that garden).

Fall color: White Flower Farm photo

In flower: Grimms Gardens photo

The first is Amsonia hubrictii. This is not a new plant. In fact it was the perennial plant of the year in 2011, but for whatever reason I didn't take note of it then. Then last year, I kept running into it at various gardens and couldn't get it off my mind. It's the foliage that I love. Wispy, threadlike leaves create a cloudlike texture that I love. And it turns a brilliant yellow in fall, which will provide some much-needed color in that part of the garden.

Side note: The Chicago Botanic Garden did a plant evaluation of hardy amsonias. These are amazing resources so I always look for them when deciding what to plant.

• • • • • • • • • • • •

The second plant is Calamintha nepeta 'Montrose White'. Again, it's not a new plant, but was one I wasn't familiar with until last year when I attended a talk by designer Carrie Hennessy from Johnson's Nursery. It was named by Mike Yanny (who is responsible for developing some amazing trees and shrubs), whose wife got it from Montrose Nursery and saw how it thrived. It's deer resistant, doesn't flop, gets no more than 18 inches tall, and is said to bloom from June through frost. It's also sterile and is said to root incredibly easy from cuttings. What more can you ask for in a perennial? I've said it before and it still holds true: The bones of a practical garden need to be no-nonsense plants. That doesn't mean you can't have divas, but they can't all need coddling.

• • • • • • • • • • • •

And lastly, I think I'm going to put in some Hydrangea serrata Tiny Tuff Stuff. I was excited when this plant was introduced last year (or maybe the year before) and everything I've read about it seems positive. I felt like the amsonia and calamintha really needed something with a coarser texture in order to show off their finer texture attributes, and this hydrangea, which is small in stature, still has nice big, thick leaves.

This won't be it, of course. I'll need some taller elements and maybe something a bit spiky or strappier. I think Verbena bonariensis would look great dotted amongst them, and perhaps some  'Howard David' dahlias would work.  But these three will be the foundation for that area, one I'm comfortable with for their numerous traits and low-maintenance nature.

What's most important to you when it comes to choosing new plants to add to your garden?

FRIDAY FINDS

I forgot to show you a couple of photos that I meant to include in yesterday's post about what's happening in the garden. The 'Blue Angel' hostas in a corner of the garden have not yet recovered from a hasty division a year or two ago when they were badly in need of it so there is a little extra room on the edge of that bed. The local hardware store (my favorite place to buy flowers these days; great selection and much better prices than dedicated garden centers) had all their annuals on sale and I picked up all the begonias in the salmon pink/orange/pink-tinged yellow color range. Originally I was thinking of just white flowers there, but I'm really liking this more colorful option. 

Now, onto some Friday Finds.

I don't think I'd ever have the chutzpah to have a green kitchen but some of these are pretty great.

Until I read about this BH&G showhouse on Lauren's blog I knew nothing of it and it's only 20 minutes from my office. I'm excited about it, but mostly because Lauren decorated the inside and I fall a little more in love with her style every day.

I've been dreaming about this salad since I saw this recipe, but I want to wait for a homegrown tomato to make it.

There are a lot of new shrubs that I'm pretty keen on these days (subject of a future post), but I'm really excited about Tiny Tuff Stuff hydrangea. I'm growing a regular Tuff Stuff this year and if I'm happy with its performance, I may buy a whole bunch of its diminutive cousin.

This is officially my last "free" weekend until the end of July so it's do or die time in the garden. We're approaching the point where things that don't get finished, won't be done this year and I hate when I have to make that call. What's on your agenda for the weekend?

GET OUT IN THE GARDEN AND GET PRUNING

It might have been 15 degrees last weekend but I was bound and determined to garden, and garden I did. I actually had a very legitimate reason to garden: hydrangea pruning time.

I love hydrangeas and have a lot of them, but the only kind I've added in the last seven years or so are either so-called smooth hydrangeas (Hydrangea arborescens) or hardy hydrangeas (Hydrangea paniculata). After years of disappointment with  big-leaf hydrangeas that didn't bloom (the plant might be hardy but the buds, which are set on last season's growth, rarely are for me), I have pretty much given up on those.

And for arborescens and paniculatas, late winter is the time to prune. I'm in zone 5 so that's right about now. If you are in a lower zone you might need to wait a little bit and if you're in a warmer zone, you probably want to get on with it if you haven't pruned already. The key is that you want to prune when the plant is dormant.

The arborescens I have are 'Annabelle', Incrediball and Invincible Spirit and these couldn't be easier to prune. I just chop them back to 6 to 12 inches from the ground. They bloom on new wood and cutting them back will keep them a little shorter and therefore less floppy. But don't be fooled into thinking that cutting these hydrangeas back will make them small. My Incrediballs that flank the deck stairs were well over 5 feet tall last summer.

With the paniculatas, you're mostly pruning to control the size. These also bloom on new wood and there is an effect to pruning, other than the size of the plant. When you prune, you'll get more flowers but they will be smaller. If you don't prune, you'll get slightly few flowers but they will be larger. To me, it all evens out in the end so I don't worry too much about it but some people might be partial to one look or the other.

Before: The Limelight hydrangeas along the deck are planted downhill, so when I pruned them, my goal was to level the tops. On the right is an Incrediball that I pruned to about a foot and in front of the Limelights is a Little Lime that also got a little sprucing up.

After: The Limelights have been pruned to be more or less level. Even if I wasn't planning to prune them, I would have gone in and removed the old flowerheads because they may not fall off by themselves and can look ratty if they are still there when the new flowers bloom.

My paniculatas are all either Limelight or Little Lime. This year I started with the three Limelights that I grow along the deck. This is the first year that I've pruned them and one of my goals with pruning was the even them out. The ground falls away in that area, the one farthest north is considerable lower than the one on the south end. But these are most often viewed from on top of the deck, where they sort of peek up, and it's odd to not have them even. So when I pruned, I lined up the top of them with the trim on the deck skirting, aiming to have them level on top.

There's a branch that is crossing twice and needs to be removed. Crossing branches are bad because they can rub against each other and open the wood, making it susceptible to disease.

But before I start taking off top growth, I always start with crossing branches. These are never good to have in any shrub or tree, so if I spot a crossing branch, I immediately cut that out. If I were pruning anything else, the next thing I'd do would be to look for dead wood, but I've never found any in a Limelight hydrangea. Once I got rid of the crossing branches, I started reducing the overall size of the plant, always cutting back to a leaf bud, which looks like a little swelling on a branch.

Because I was trying to make the three hydrangeas level, the one on the south end got a much more severe pruning than the other two. It will be interesting to watch if there is any difference between the three because of that.

I followed the same procedure for the Little Lime hydrangeas, making sure to take out any branches that were sticking out at odd angles. I sort of like to see the branches end up in a V shape when I'm finished.

The one hydrangea that I've not yet pruned is the giant Limelight in the main garden. I'm looking to take out some of the oldest stems in the middle of that one to keep it nice and open, but there is so much snow piled up at its base that I can't get the pruning saw in there. Temperatures are supposed to increase this weekend though, so I'm hoping it will melt enough to go at that one.

When the ground is thawed, I'll give all of the hydrangeas a bit of organic fertilizer and a shovelful of compost to get them going on the right foot. Beyond that, they won't require any maintenance until next spring when I'm once again trudging through the snow, anxious to get on with the first gardening job of the year.

ENJOY THE BEAUTY INSTEAD OF MOURNING THE SUMMER

It's a bittersweet time to be a gardener. My enthusiasm for the small but important jobs around the garden has long since waned. I did some edging this weekend and it was all I could do to will myself to do it even though it was a job that was way overdue and one that I'm always happy with the results of. Some parts of the garden are just coming into their own, while much of the rest of it is looking tired. Even though I'm still calling this The Year Without a Summer, it seems like ages ago that all the foliage in the garden was bright and fresh and new looking, devoid of bare stems where deer or rabbits have nibbled or skeletized leaves where slugs have feasted.

I have a hard time not thinking about next year already: what needs to be moved, what areas need more plants, what just isn't working. What I really should be doing is enjoying the beauty of the garden right now. Because there's a lot of beauty out there to be enjoyed. I just have to enjoy it at face value and not think about how the end of the gardening season is getting closer.

What's happening in your garden these days?

Without question, Rudbeckia is the star of the late summer garden. Although the bright yellow color can be a bit jarring and can be difficult to combine with other colors, Rudbeckia, more than any other plant, defines the season for me.

The nasturtiums, all planted from seed, continue to provide great color in the garden and fill in the holes where other plants have failed.

The Korean feather reed grass is so beautiful this time of year when it sends up its delicate plumes.

'Neon' sedum is starting to show off and the bees adore it.

The oldest of the hydrangea 'Limelight' shrubs that I have in the garden is the biggest it has ever been, at least 7 feet tall and equally wide. It will get a serious pruning next year to keep its size a bit more manageable, even though I don't mind the behemoth as is.

Speaking of 'Limelight', the first blooms are starting to show a tinge of pink. As beautiful as it is, it makes me sad to see it.

In this wilder area of the garden, the Monarda have finally finished blooming and the Rudbeckia has taken over. All except for that one Echinacea. That pink with the bright yellow doesn't work, but somehow the combination doesn't bother me in this area.

Don't look now but winter's coming

I was born and raised in Wisconsin, and other than a brief stint down under, I have lived in this state for my entire life. If you're not familiar Wisconsin, you probably associate the state with three things: cheese, the Green Bay Packers and cold weather. It's no coincidence that these are the first things that come to mind when you think of Wisconsin.

So how is it that every year winter sort of catches me by surprise? I have been dragging my feet a little bit on the garden clean up. All the containers are cleaned out and put away and I cut back almost all the perennials (unlike other years I decided to cut back almost everything in fall, even though it's said to be better for your plants to let them stand, to lighten my work load in spring). But I haven't been good about caging some of the trees and shrubs that I like to give a little more protection to (either from the deer or from the weather). For some reason I kept thinking, "Oh, I'll just wait for a warmer weekend day for that."

Seeing the snowflakes fly outside my office window on Monday was a good sign that my plan was flawed. But waking up Tuesday morning to snow still on the ground was proof.

Usually we get plenty of flurries that kind of make it look like you're in a snow globe but nothing really sticks until very late November or early December. For the first snowfall to stick to the ground was a bit disconcerting.

When I left for work Tuesday morning, it was 23 degrees outside and this is what it looked like in my yard.

The Limelight hydrangea flowers are all dry now, but I sort of like to let them stand over winter for a bit of interest.

The cardoon in the corner finally succumbed to the weather. This was my first year growing cardoons and I'll definitely plant them again. What a great architectural plant with beautiful gray-blue foliage.

If you're looking for some more information on how to put the garden to bed, lots of bloggers have written excellent posts about it. Heather at New House New Home offered her to-do list here, Margaret's monthly garden chores list is always great, but her November list is especially good and here are some of my very own tips for winterizing the garden.

Looks like I'm going to need some gloves to finish up the last of the work in the garden. And I'm not talking about gardening gloves.

The Garden Appreciation Society Week 15 --Show us your blooms!

Week 15 of The Garden Appreciation Society! Can you believe it? I  What's even more amazing to me is that for 15 straight weeks I have had beautiful fresh flowers in my house. I will miss them so much in the middle of winter. But let's not think about that, now. We have to savor every single moment of summer while we can.

After last week's riot of color in a tiny bouquet, this week couldn't be much different. It's a much larger bouquet and a little wild too. I think for me this is when the Limelight hydrangeas are prettiest. They still have a lot of chartreuse in them, which I think is a stunning color in a flower. I added in several spikes of Russian sage, which has completely flopped over and needs to be cut back anyway. The little blue flowers are dropping all over the table, but I forgive them because I think they are pretty.

So pretty, in fact, that I couldn't resist a bunch of close-ups.

Speaking of enjoying summer, I get the feeling that you are all enjoying it quite a bit because you're not doing a very good job of appreciating your gardens in new ways. Come on, gang, make this week the week and link up!

There were three lovely bouquets last week and it's amazing to me how different they all are. A good reminder that all of our gardens at at different stages. Libby's hydrangeas are already at the end of their season and have taken on that gorgeous dusty pink color. Susie has some gorgeous hydrangeas just starting to bloom. But I think my favorite from last week comes from Kate at Heir and Space whose bouquet is a good reminder that sometimes simple is best. She always puts her bouquets on a piece of furniture that she's done an amazing restoration or reinvention on and I love how the rudbeckia on the table (in a perfect aqua jar) look like they were just plucked from the bed right next them. Great job, Kate!

Photo by Kate at Heir and Space

Now it's time to link up! I know you all have a garden full of blooms so let's see them!

And don't forget to check out previous weeks:

• Week 1
• Week 2
• Week 3
• Week 4
• Week 5
• Week 6
• Week 7
• Week 8
• Week 9
• Week 10
• Week 11
• Week 12
• Week 13
• Week 14