I fell and broke my arm while planting this plant:
This is Salvia Pure Silver, and I bent over a knee-high raised bed to plant it.
As I straightened up from my planting position and took a step backward to view my work, my feet remained planted on the asphalt while the rest of my body continued to proceed in a backward direction. I landed sideways on my arm.
But so what? Look at that Salvia Pure Silver—what a beauty! Silver foliage and delicate blue blooms. This is one gorgeous plant, and I’m so glad I planted two of them.
That’s how I feel about my silver garden. Planted in a raised bed, this little garden is special because it is the only place in my little 50 x 150 lot that gets full sun. Everywhere else in the yard, I have to allow for shade, some dappled, some deep. But in this garden, originally created in 2007, I can cultivate a much broader range of plants: anything that likes full sun. So I decided to go for plants that like their conditions so sunny, and so dry, that they develop silver foliage to compensate for the heat and light of the sun. My silver garden.
It’s been a constant work in progress. At the end of this blog post, I’ll list some of the plants that didn’t make it.
Among the silver plants that did survive, there are two types. Some survive the heat of the sun by developing tiny white hairs that deflect the sun. These leaves are referred to as being felted. Other plants, called succulents, compensate by storing moisture in their leaves, and developing a frosty, or glaucous, patina to protect from the sun.
I have both kinds in my silver garden. The salvia pure silver, the one over which I broke my arm, is felted. The plant in the bottom right front, centaurea pindicola, is also felted leaves. The plant with the radiating formation, sedum sieboldii, is a succulent with glaucous leaves.
I wanted as many silver-leaved plants as this tiny bed would accommodate.
I chose a pair of Russian sages as the tallest member, which would anchor the center of this garden.
The tall plant in the background, a Russian sage, already has delicate silvery foliage. When it blooms, it will have delicate lavender flowers.
This isn’t my Russian sage, but this is what it will look like when it blooms.
This little number below is Nepeta Walker’s Low. Nepeta is just the Latin name for catmint. When I had a cat, she loved this plant. She would flop into the center and purr. Nepeta doesn’t mind this kind of treatment. It’s tough—a borderline thug. Also invasive.
Nepeta qualifies for my silver garden because it has both silvery leaves and cool silvery blue flowers.
How about this little number? This is fescue, or festuca, my favorite grass, and the first plant I wanted when I planned this garden.
Lychnis coronaria, below, is also called rose campion. Its leaves are felted and its pale flowers to me are much more attractive than more common colors for the flower of this plant, a raucous magenta. This white version is lychnis coronaria alba.
Lychnis Coronaria Alba
At one end of the silver garden, I grow a few herbs and a tomato. The herb garden is separated from the rest of the silver garden by a row of curly ornamental chives.
Silvery ornamental chives in the background, and in the foreground, Snow in Summer (cerastium tomentosum).
The herb garden itself comprises parsley, basil, chives, oregano, and sage.
Those are a few of the plants that currently survive and thrive in the silver garden here at 50 Auburn Road. In a few weeks, I’ll show you what blooms there as the time comes.
And now, a moment of silence: This garden has been in existence since about 2007, but it’s not much like the garden I originally planted. RIP to the following silver plants:
Artemisia Stelleriana (beach wormwood)
Sedum cauticola
Helianthemum Wisley Pink
And others, added as I remember them.
Meanwhile, I’ll show you the silver garden flowering news as it occurs.