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?

GOODNIGHT GARDEN

Well it had to come eventually. The frost that miraculously held off until after mid-November finally came, more than a month after our first frost last year.

I knew it was coming, but somehow in my gardener's brain I had blocked out how dramatically a hard frost changes the garden overnight. I woke up Saturday morning to brown foliage hanging on plants, pouty petals on the few remaining flowers and a general pallor over the landscape.

Of course the work in the garden is not finished even though if you can mark an end to the gardening season it is certainly the first hard frost. I'll dig dahlias this coming weekend, continue cleaning up the  perennials that add little to the winter landscape and continue to batten down the garden's hatches for winter.

Later Saturday, a brutally cold day with winds that whipped snowflakes around like a snow globe, the sun came out and I saw there was still a little beauty left in the garden afterwards. With the right ray of light, the amber and brown tones so prevalent in the garden now come to life and transform into gold.

This poor 'At Last' Rose was just starting to open when its time was cut short. 

It will have to be enough to hold me over until the sun brings warmth again, several calendar pages from now. Good night, garden. You did well well this year. Thanks for that.

AN EARLY JUNE GARDEN REPORT

There is so much happening in the garden these day and if I don't show it to you soon there will be something else entirely happening. I've not had time for proper photos, but I did snap a bunch on my phone and I thought phone photos would be better than waiting even longer.

I had such high hopes for this gardening season. With the nice spring I felt like I had a real jump on things but now I feel like I'll never get everything finished and I'm really losing steam. I really wish I could just take a couple days of vacation and just finish it all but that's not in the cards at work right now so I'll just do the best I can.

For now ... here's what's happening.

The Clematis 'Sugar Sweet Lilac' is doing amazingly well for its second year. The climbing rose is doing well too despite all of the canes dying back over the winter. This fall I'll try to protect them more to avoid the cane dieback.

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 The 'Coralburst' crabapple is past its peak bloom time but I sort of love the shaggy look it has right now. It reminds me a little of how all the boxwoods are a little shaggy right now with their new growth. The dame's rocket is growing behind it. I consider it a weed but not a major offender so I pull it when I'm around and leave the rest. I did some weed burning on the edges of things the other night, so things are a bit crispy in the foreground.

The 'Venus' dogwood is blooming for the first time! It only has three flowers, and they are just opening in shades of lime, but I love them.

 Last summer I dug up a lot of Geranium macrorrhizum aka bigroot geranium from my sister-in-law's garden and I stuck it in along the driveway where nothing exciting will grow. I'm so happy with how it has flourished and I can't wait to divide it and really fill in that area. Anything that grows here needs to be able to tolerate shade, dryness, plowing, snow piles and general mistreatment. This fits the bill.

My beloved 'Guernsey Cream' clematis is doing great again. There are so many buds yet to open. It is the perfect white in the garden. Creamy but clean.

When we bought the house, one of the few plants that hadn't been taken over by weeds in the garden was lamb's ear. I detest lamb's ear flowers and I ripped it all out. Fourteen years later, I've invited it back into the garden, this time as a contrast around the 'Orangeola' Japanese maple. I plan to chop off any flowers that try to sneak in there.

Three years ago I volunteered at a garden tour event and the star of the show was a giant Viburnum plicatum tomentosum 'Mariesii' that was laden with blooms. It was the most stunning shrub I'd ever seen and I loved that it shared a name for my grandmother Marie.  I bought one that was no more than 2 feet tall and wide (I think that's being generous) and planted it on the edge of the yard with lots of room to grow, which I know it will). It has grown so much since and this year has lovely blooms. It is starting to show the layered habit that I love.

Until I went to a garden seminar this winter, I'd never heard of night phlox aka Zaluzianskya capensis, but I loved the idea of trying to put more fragrant plants near the back door. I grew a few from seed, not really knowing what to expect, but I'm finding them to be one of the most charming plants I've ever seen. The diminutive flowers pack a huge scent punch in the evening and are just the cutest things ever.

A big project this spring was replanting a large portion of the patio garden that I cleaned out last fall. I still need to fill in quite a few holes with annuals, but the Hydrangea serrata 'Tiny Tuff Stuff' I ordered from Garden Crossings are in (you can see their purple-ish sunburned leaves caused by failing to properly harden them off before planting), Amsonia hubrechtii and 'David Howard' dahlias are all in. A new viburnum is in the back of the bed along with a few other plants that are way too small to see much of these days.

A tree peony that I either never knew the name of or lost track of is blooming its head off with huge frilly-petaled flowers. I don't really love magenta flowers, but it certainly is putting on a show.

I finally found a 'Forest Pansy' redbud, which was no small feat as many nurseries don't like to sell them here because of their questionable branch hardiness. We planted it on the edge of the lawn next to our path through the woods. It's smaller than I would have hoped, but I was happy to take what I could get. May it live long and flourish.

Rain put a kibosh on after-work gardening on Monday, but the pretty double rainbow it left behind made up for it.

And last but not least, a rare garden selfie. We were at our nephew's graduation Sunday (outside ... hence the sunburn) and came home at 8 to find the power out. I went out to do whatever gardening I could since there was no point in being inside with no power and I found myself on the edge of the woods and couldn't believe how quickly the ostrich ferns have shot up. They are officially taller than me now. It feels like quite the jungle over there these days. 

GREAT NEW PLANTS FOR 2016: SHRUBS EDITION

A couple weeks ago, I shared some new annuals for 2016, and today I'm sharing new shrubs that look interesting.

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1. Petite Pillar Dwarf Boxwood: Plant producers are smart to be working on new boxwood introductions because I still think it's the single hottest shrub of the moment. This one grows in a naturally columnar shape, topping out at 2 to 3 feet. Buxus microphylla 'MonAlex': Zones 5-9, full to part sun, 2-3 feet tall x 2 feet wide.

2. At Last Rose: This apricot beauty is said to have the disease resistance and low-maintenance needs of popular landscape roses such as Oso Easy and Knockout roses, but unlike others, doesn't lack the rose scent. It has a lot of petals so it takes on an old rose look. I'll admit, I'm wary of scent descriptions, but if this one is all it is cracked up to be, it'll have a spot in my garden. Rosa x 'Horcogjil': Zones 5-9, full sun, 30-36 inches tall and wide.

3. Loropetalum Jazz Hands Dwarf Pink: I can't grow this little dark-foliage beauty, but I sure wish I could. What more could you want in a plant: gorgeous purple foliage, hot pink dainty flowers and all in a package that can fit in a container or at the front of the border. Loropetalum chinese 'Kurenai': Zones 7b-9b, full to part sun, 1-3 feet tall x 3 feet wide.

4. Lil' Ditty Witherod Viburnum: So many shrubs are being downsized these days, which makes sense as the popularity of small-space gardening grows. This diminutive viburnum is another front-of-the-border charmer with fluffy white flowers that can grow a healthy crop of fruit so long as a pollinating plant is nearby (Viburnum nudum 'Brandywine' is one). It's super hardy and, like most viburnums, a cinch to grow. Viburnum cassinoides 'SMVCDD': Zones 3-8, part sun, 1-2 feet tall and wide

5. Moonlight Parfait Winter Daphne: Foliage shrubs are way too often overlooked, but they are so important in a garden. The amazing variegated foliage on this daphne will brighten up any partially shaded corner. It does get sweet-smelling pink flowers, but honestly they are an afterthought when the foliage is this pretty. Daphne odora 'Monstrik': Zones 7-9, full shade to partial sun, 3-4 feet tall and wide.

6. Gatsby Pink Oakleaf Hydrangea: You are probably impressed that I managed to get through this list with just one hydrangea on it. Gatsby Pink was my pick to win Shrub Madness and I was really wrong. It was out in the second round, but I still think it's a phenomenal plant. First of all, oak-leaf hydrangeas are lovely. They have interesting foliage that usually gets a nice color change in fall. The long flowers look like a combination of a paniculata hydrangea and a lacecap, and start white but quickly turn pink. Hydrangea quercifolia 'JoAnn': Zones 5-9, part sun, 6-8 feet tall and wide.


What new shrubs are you hoping to add to your garden this year?