(Clockwise from top) Vitis vinifera ‘Argentea’ is an ornamental grape with silver beneath its leaves; Campanula garantica ‘Dickson’s Gold’ (blue flowers); Sedum rupestre ‘Angelique’; the showy orchid Cypripedium reginae; and chartreuse Filipendula ulmaria ‘Aurea’.

 

It seems that the transition from spring to summer in my garden happens in minutes, rather than days or weeks. One day it’s not, and the next day it’s hot. The woodland wildflowers are fading, like the lady’s slipper orchids (Cypripedium species) that grow along the path of a bed that mimics the forest floor. The small C. pubescens has a yellow version of the pouch that gives the plant its common name, while the largest of these orchids, C. kentuckience, has a pouch the size and color of a hen’s egg.

Memorial Day, the last Monday in May, is the unofficial start of the summer season, and in my garden as well, as roses begin to bloom. In a quieter spot that basks in equal hours of sun and shade, colorful foliage lights the shadows. On the northeast side of the stone wall around my gravel garden, one last Cypripedium is in full bloom: the showy lady slipper, C. reginae. Unlike most, this native orchid is not an acid lover, but grows in neutral to alkaline soil and does well in a normal garden setting. Every year, the number of flowers doubles, and the clump has become a destination for early summer garden visitors. They come to pay homage to such a spectacular example of nature’s work. Lucky for us, some intrepid nurseries are growing these plants, and they are available to us through the mail.

A grapevine (Vitis vinifera ‘Incana’) crawls along the top of the wall, with gray-green leaves that are pure silver underneath. Nearby, a golden Filipendula ulmaria ‘Aurea’ is forming buds for its fuzzy cream flowers.

There is a three- to four-foot-tall shrub growing in a sunnier spot across the garden, and as spring turns to summer, the ‘Ballerina’ rose is covered with clusters of little single blossoms—pale pink on the edges, near white inside. The rose is perfectly underplanted with one of the best perennial partners for these shrubs—catmint (nepeta varieties). The wands of catmint are covered with hairs that repel water, so it does not encourage the diseases that might also attack the rose— unless, that is, it is growing in a wet, shaded spot with poor air circulation. If a bad location was chosen, both the catmint and the rose would be under attack.

Some years I cut the catmint back early so that it will grow shorter and not flop over when shaded by the rose, but then the blossoming does not coincide with the rose’s. So, I’ve taken to poking nearly a dozen stakes into the ground that stick up 12 inches or so, and I zigzag jute twine between them. The catmint grows up through this cat’s-cradle frame.

What to plant with roses, to hide their knobby knees? Drought-tolerant sub-shrubs like chartreuse-leaved Caryopteris x clandonensis ‘Worcester Gold’ (top), and catmint (Nepeta varieties) with a pink rose (R. ‘Ballerina’).