Full disclosure: I didn’t plant the black cherry tree, just as I didn’t plant the beautiful grove of ancient mountain laurel shrubs. They were already growing here when we came to this garden. But unlike the Azaleas and Asian Magnolia trees, planted by previous gardeners, these flowering trees are gifts of nature.

It took a few years to identify the black cherry tree because it took a few years of watching it before it finally bloomed. Its clusters of tiny white flowers may be considered insignificant by some. They aren’t showy like the huge pink Azalea flowers or brilliant Iris. It is fairly easy to identify members of the Prunus genus by the bark, if you know what you are looking for. It is beautiful, intricately marked bark. Beyond that one needs a few more clues to narrow down the species, and whether it may be native or not.

Black cherry is a keystone species in our area because it is so important to wildlife. Only oaks host more species of Lepidoptera than the three native species of Prunus: black cherry, chokecherry, and American plum. There are eight keystone species of trees in “Eastern Temperate Forests- Ecoregion 8” and two additional species of shrubs. Anyone wanting to support wildlife with native plants while also enjoying their own selections of more ornamental plants need only include a few keystone species for their region to cover their bases with the ecosystem.

Mountain Laurel, Kalmia latifolia, may be my favorite ‘gift of nature’ shrub in our garden, though it is anything but a keystone species since it is highly poisonous. The ancient grove of mature Kalmia shrubs likely pre-date our neighborhood by decades. I’m still grateful to the builders for sparing them, and some beautiful old oak trees, when they built our home nearly 60 years ago. Kalmia probably lands in my ‘Six on Saturday’ lineup every year when it is in bloom.

This shrub is so poisonous folks are cautioned to avoid honey made with its nectar. And yet the deer sometimes graze on its lower leaves, which they shouldn’t do but survive anyway, so the gnarled trunks of our shrubs are quite exposed. It is evergreen, with new leaves emerging around the time it blooms. The third photo in the group shows the ‘back side’ of the grove where the mountain laurel reaches out towards a hedge of also native wax myrtle shrubs. There is a shady tunnel here, on one edge of our yard, leading to one of the remaining beautiful old oaks. The last photo shows the mountain laurel grove in the distance when viewed down one axis of our front garden.

Four different Iris species bloomed this week. The Iris pallida, a European species planted in the Williamsburg area during the Colonial era, was a gift from a neighborhood friend. We had three German hybrid Iris varieties in bloom, Japanese I. tectorum or roof Iris, and some hybrid I. pseudata. I wasn’t conscientious enough to photograph the I. pseudata before the heavy rain last night. Yet they may be the most interesting as a new type of sterile hybrid with the appearance of the European yellow flag Iris pseudacorus, which is so hardy and persistent here that it has been labeled as ‘invasive.’ The pseudatas, a cross between Japanese I. ensata and I. pseudacorus, will bloom over the next few weeks and so there will be more opportunities to share a photo. I began collecting Iris species and hybrids when there was much more sun on our garden. I am hopeful that we’ll enjoy more Iris flowers through mid-May.

Have you ever come to view a ‘problem’ as a ‘gift?” Sometimes, things we first perceive as problems make us stretch and grow and lead us down new paths such that in hindsight, we can call those challenges ‘gifts.’ Oftentimes it is challenging to come around and shift our thinking to this more positive point of view. And it can take the passage of years to get there. Gardeners may understand this better than some, because we often see it play out in beautiful ways in real time.

One of our massive maple trees fell down a few summers ago during a storm. It may have been a hurricane, or at least a tropical storm, with a lot of wind. We found the tree down, along our property line, the next morning. And as the tree came down it took quite a few smaller trees and shrubs with it- woody plants that both screened our yard but also formed a barrier to slow down the marauding deer.

This entire area has been an unsightly ‘problem’ area for the past few years, and I haven’t been able to get much of anything to grow in or around the old stump of the maple tree. This is an area of dense, dry shade, run through with lots of woody roots from surrounding plants. It is also an area just past the grove of mountain laurel. I’ve been cultivating mosses and ferns along the pathway to this ugly ‘dead end.’ And of course, our neighbors use the area on the other side of the stump for storing things they don’t want to look at. I can say with confidence that I’ve carefully kept this area out of photos shared for the weekly ‘Six.’

This spring I was determined to figure out something to improve this area. And so my partner and I worked together to build (improvise) a new raised bed ‘Stump Garden’ around the old maple stump. We cut up the snag of a fallen apple tree to border the area, added several bags of fresh compost, and I have been both moving containers while also planting smaller plants, with small root balls, directly into the compost. This area has become a collection of horticultural bits and pieces needing a new home. Grouped together, they already bring color and interest to a formerly barren area.

The old apple tree was perhaps a ‘gift of nature’ itself, just waiting until I recognized its potential for a new purpose. The window boxes, planted with a few sporelings I have raised along with a few ferns purchased last spring, allow these small ferns to mature a bit more before I plant them out. I’m still waiting to see whether some maidenhair ferns, Adiantum x mairisii if I’m remembering correctly, emerge this spring. So far, none of the several plants I overwintered in containers in a sheltered spot have put up new growth.

Ferns are a good solution for problem areas in this woodland garden. They thrive in the shade, cling to the slopes, handle heavy downpours gracefully, and don’t need constant grooming. There are two Dryopteris ferns anchoring this garden that I’m still trying to puzzle out. I bought them as tiny, unlabeled plants at Trader Joe’s. And I kept them indoors for a winter or two, unsure whether they were hardy. But now that I have determined they are hardy, I’m wondering whether they might be Dryopteris lepidopoda, known as the sunset fern, because their new fronds unfold a lovely shade of golden orange.

And that little volunteer sporeling of Japanese painted fern that I potted up for the patio and featured a few weeks ago? It has found a new home anchoring this garden, too. In addition to the ferns, there is a pot of rattlesnake master, a potted hybrid Clematis, a tiny seedling Japanese maple tree, some Saxifraga divisions, a transplanted Epimedium, native wood violets, and a few other ground cover plants. It may not look like much yet, but I expect this area to fill in quite nicely over the coming months.

Perhaps what is a ‘gift’ and what is not is just a matter of perception, like the question of what is a ‘weed’ or not. That rain last night was a gift for the garden, although it ruined a few Iris flowers and bent over a few branches. Seeing something as a ‘gift’ implies that we feel some appreciation and perceive a thing’s value. In my view, we become better gardeners as we cultivate of sense of appreciation for all life. Maybe aesthetics won’t seem like the highest value of a plant once we see how it makes useful connections with us, and with all of the other animals and plants in our garden.

With appreciation to Jim Stephens of Garden Ruminations, who

hosts Six on Saturday each week.