Nearly 10 years ago, in June 2013, an afternoon thunderstorm blew up quite suddenly and without any warnings.  There was wind, heavy rain, and lightning striking close by.  At one point I walked over to the front window to look at out the storm, and no longer recognized the landscape.  A large double oak tree had been knocked over, the bottom of its gigantic root ball facing the house and obscuring my view of the upper garden.  We soon learned that a second large oak had been twisted in two about 20’ above the ground, and these two large trees fell across many smaller ones, landing in a neighbor’s driveway across the street.

The landscape and lighting of my beautiful, shady upper garden was forever changed in the time it takes to sneeze.  When the storm cleared and the sun came back out the following day, I could hardly believe the change.  Full, direct sun blazed onto the twisted mess of branches and shredded leaves crushing our Azaleas and several dogwoods.  Once arborists had cleaned everything up, pruned the remaining large trees, and left me with several inches of new, thick wood chips spread across the yard, I had to figure out what to do in this utterly different landscape.

And you probably know exactly what I did:  began to plant new trees and shrubs among the collection of sun-loving annuals, perennials, and herbs I started adding to define the bones of this new space.  I had the full, direct sun many gardeners crave.  And yet I was still seeking the shade. 

We need shade in coastal Virginia.  It stays so hot for so long here that shade is the only healthy, reasonable place to be if you’re outside after mid-morning and before supper.  Shade protects eyes and skin.  It conserves moisture.  It allows for a cool breeze now and again.  And it offers shelter to birds, insects, and small animals.  Many of my favorite plants require shade to survive July.

Standing in the shade may be tolerable, but stepping a few feet further down the path into the sun raises the temperature 10-20F and burns exposed skin within minutes.  I try to get up and out early enough to water and work before the sun climbs very high in the sky.

Plants wanting ‘full sun’ can get by with just 6-8 hours of direct sunlight out of a 14-hour summer day.  That leaves a lot of latitude for planting flowering perennials and shrubs where they will get a few hours of sun but also hours of bright shade.  It takes a lot of trial and error to figure out where to plant some things where they will thrive and not fry in too much light, or sulk in too little.

I moved a baby Japanese maple tree out of its winter shelter on the deck 10 feet away to a sunnier spot this week.  And when I came back two days later, I found the tips of every leaf brown and crinkled.  I hope I moved it back to the shade soon enough that it will recover and replace most of those ruined leaves.

I’ve spent a lot of time this week refreshing containers and baskets.  I’m still planting most every day.  I lost my plant storage area behind the house to some utility work, and so ended up giving away lots of pots of Iris and several potted trees last Saturday.   

I’ve been transplanting sprouted Caladiums from their nursery flats to containers in shady places where they can grow from now until frost.  I also finally planted out a few of the baby sporeling ferns that have been coming on for more than a year in their box on the deck. 

It has gotten hot here quite suddenly.  Last week, we had several nights in the 40s, and it was still too cold to move tropical summer plants from the garage to the garden.  The new Alocasia ‘Stingray’ starts that I picked up last month don’t like cold, so they have been languishing, along with all of the Begonias and Colocasias, inside.  Finally, our nights have gotten warmer, so I’ve been moving a few pots a day back outside for the season.  We’ve gone from winter temperatures to summer in just about a week.  Temperatures climbed into the mid-80s today by early afternoon.

Which brings us back to shade, and how to create more of it.  I look around at the little seedling trees and shrubs I began planting into this sunny space 10 years ago with great satisfaction.  Most have grown very well, and their canopies now cast beautiful pools of shade.  Volunteer seedling dogwoods, oaks, hollies and redbuds are filling in thickly enough that I can dig some to share with friends.   I’m still planting trees, too.  I’ve planted at least a dozen trees in the yard this spring, including two native species chestnut trees I ordered from the American Chestnut Foundation as seedlings a year or two ago.  I’ve finally liberated them from their pots into the garden.

It amazes me how quickly the garden changes.  Both growth and destruction can come so quickly.  Nothing stays the same for very long, which is perhaps the point.  Gardeners join in nature’s dance, sometimes leading and at other times following.  But the joy is in the dance and the constantly changing beauty of it all.

With appreciation to Jim Stephens of Garden Ruminations, who hosts Six on Saturday each week.

Happy Mother’s Day!

You might enjoy my new series of posts, Plants I Love That Deer Ignore.

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