Pink Zinnias and Other Surprises: 7 Standout Plants Worth Having More Of
The first snowfall never fails to make me feel nostalgic. Looking out at my snow-covered garden feels like the perfect time to reflect on its performance over the past year. What a trying summer it was! The season turned quickly from cool and rainy to hot and wicked dry. Even with regular watering, the flowers crisped at the edges and the foliage wilted in protest.
Quite a different view from the kitchen window now.
Dismal failures: My vegetable garden suffered the most. Even with regular watering, it couldn’t withstand the hot, windy days and relentless sun. To make matters worse, I planted the tomatoes too late, and the squash borers finished off the cucumbers and squash just as they were hitting their stride. About the only things that thrived were the early lettuces and the ever-reliable Swiss chard. And to be honest, I don’t even like it that much. Below is a quick clip of ‘the walk of shame.’
Gifts from the garden: On a more upbeat note, it was a bumper year for self-seeding plants. I attribute that to our rainy spring. Nasturtiums, Verbena bonariensis and a host of others inserted themselves artistically throughout the garden. Several varieties of Nicotianas threatened to take over. I actually had so many volunteers that I had to start weeding them out.
Seedlings even popped up in the cracks of the walkway.
Left to right: Nicotiana ‘Cranberry Isles’ and ‘Langsdorfii’
To be honest, I got a little sick of them after a while. Note to myself: less is more, at least in the self-seeding department. On the other hand, there are a bunch I want more of !
Here are seven annuals and perennials on the top of my list.
Patience pays off: A few years ago, a friend gifted me several plugs of native penstemons. I had my doubts about their survival — I’d planted so many before that never made it. The tiny little guys took their time settling in, and this year they exploded with a glorious display of tiny, tubular blooms.
Tubular flowers direct bees inside to draw out nectar and pollen.
Last fall, I scooped up a few tiny Monarda punctata plants my daughter-in-law had grown from seed. I never dreamed they’d survive, much less look so robust. I think the rainy spring must have helped spur them on. I’ve always thought of them as a bit tenuous, but since they’re native to New York, I’m hoping they’ll return again next year.
Monarda punctata aka Spotted Beebalm has such an interesting texture and flower! It’s a valuable pollinator plant that attracts bees, butterflies and numerous pollinating insects.
This delicate little aster was a complete surprise. It came in a pack of leftover plugs a friend gave me last fall. The markers had fallen off, and I couldn’t identify any of them. I planted this one anyway. It looked a bit weedy at first, yet it turned out to be a delightful fall treat!
Symphyotrichum oolentangiense (Sky Blue Aster)
Things don’t always turn out as planned: I was a bit bummed (actually fuming) when the zinnias I ordered for the cutting garden turned out to be a mixture of pink instead of the fiery orange, yellow and red mix I’d been expecting. Attempting to tone down the pinkness, I shopped around at a garden center and discovered Celosia ‘Shimmer.’ Its wispy texture and peachy-pink flowers helped soften the hot pinks considerably. It’s quickly become one of my favorite annuals. Long-lasting, easy to care for, and tolerant of a little dryness, it’s terrific in a vase — with or without zinnias. I guess this is one of those lessons: when life gives you lemons, make lemonade.
Celosia ‘Shimmer’
Thanks to the zinnia snafu and the discovery of Celosia ‘Shimmer,’ I realized that pink and orange combinations really rock. How did I not know this before? I ended up with so many Cosmos ‘Sulphureus’ leftovers after planting the cutting garden, I decided to tuck them into the front garden among the coneflowers. It was kind of accidental, but those clear bright orange flowers glowing against the inflorescence of the seed heads made my heart sing.
Cosmos and coneflowers, a winning combination.
Save the best for last: I was initially attracted to Pineapple Sage, Salvia elegans ‘Golden Delicious,’ because of its bright chartreuse foliage. I didn’t realize it would bloom so late, but those flashy red flowers added a welcome boost to the garden from mid-September until frost. As I write this, I can still see flowers peeking through the falling snow. It’s happy in the garden or container - an annual well worth considering for late-season color.
Salvia elegans ‘Golden Delicious’
By far, Sedum ‘Dark Magic’ was one of my best discoveries. I used it in a rock garden planting (photo below) and paired it with other sedum varieties. I’m drawn to dark-leafed sedums, but most of the varieties I’ve planted have had floppy, sloppy growth habits. This one, however, is much tidier, a bit shorter (12–15”), and has much stronger stems.
Left to right: Sedum ‘Sieboldi’, Sedum ‘Dark Magic,’ ‘Sedum ‘Angelina’, Sedum ‘Blue Spruce’
I think it looks just as good in the snow Notice how upright it still is.
Even the weight of snow doesn’t cause Sedum ‘Dark Magic’ to flop.
This year’s garden was full of struggles, lessons, and unexpected surprises. The vegetable garden debacle reminded me to pay closer attention to timing, soil, and water. I also gained a new appreciation for self-seeding plants and those happy little surprises that show up unplanned. They all brought delight when I least expected it. That’s the thing about gardening — you never get exactly what you expect, but somehow, it always feels perfect.
