There are many clever uses for climbers. I inherited a red rose, the name of which I’ve never discovered. It’s feet are firmly planted at the back of a mixed border, taking up practically no space. The rose blooms once in June high up above a window on a wall covered with ivy. The dark red practically jumps off the wall in contrast to the dark green, shiny background of dense ivy. As the flower petals fall, the vine recedes into the background, and if it has any disease, black spot or mildew most likely among them, I don’t know about it because the ivy acts as camouflage. And what would it matter, as the ivy and the rose have a happy marriage, their lives intertwined and compatible for more than forty years.

Rosa 'Dortman" climbs the ivy by the kitchen door.

Many times, over the years when I passed a bare trellis, an empty pillar, a bald wall, an unattractive fence, I fancy I heard them crying out to me. The lament was always the same: “If only someone would adorn me with roses.” The romance of climbing roses should not be underestimated.

If a climbing red rose hadn’t come with our house, I might not have fallen so hopelessly in love with them. Once I realized the rose was using ivy as its trellis, hooking its thorns into the ivy as it grew, and it required little care, there was no stopping me. Now roses climb our doorways, arbors, porches, gazebos, fences, walls and even the basketball court. The roses also climb up other plants—climbing hydrangea, trees, and, of course, ivy. Over the last 20 years, I’ve added a couple dozen roses.

The impact of climbers, whether short or tall, is that they put the finishing touches on a garden. Plus, the garden appears larger when flowers bloom vertically. And the only drawback to climbing roses is their bare legs; I use their woody-stemmed canes as living supports for loose-limbed, delicate vines such as clematis, love-in-a-puff and sweet peas or I plant perennials or shrubs in front of them. Rose love shade on their roots and sun on their flowers.

Clematis climb the fence and the arms of the shrub roses.

Most climbing roses sprawl, arch and creep upward, stretching their awkward canes. Some grow to 30 feet and beyond, while others grow only 8 to 12 feet tall. For the first few years, I rarely prune until they cover the area I have allotted to them. If they grow up and out of reach—up a tree for instance—I wish them well and wait for the tree to be alive with flowers. Shorter climbers I prune to shape the canes into a classic fan shape against a wall, or along a fence or trellis. With arched branches, more of the cane is exposed to the sun encouraging flowers to form at the node.

My approach to planting climbers is the more the merrier. They add so much to a garden—fragrance, color, beauty and branches for birds to nest.

Once blooming roses climb the basketball backboard.

Rosa 'Mme gregoire Staechelin"'

Sometimes something as simple as putting flowers in the birdbath adds to the beauty of the garden. It also adds to my amusement. The birds don’t take kindly to flowers in their bath and they will struggle to drag them to the edge of the bowl and toss them on the ground.

Flat flowers, such as clematis, float easily in water and stay fresh for a week or more.

Naturally, bindweed, poison ivy, dandelions, goutweeds, onion grass and many other prolific weeds are easily recognized while walking at a fast clip through the garden and I pull them as soon I spot them. However, mixed in among the weeds are often many desirable plants. Some sprouted from a seed dropped by a bird, carried in with the mulch, floated on a breeze and parachuted down, or unknowingly smuggled in on the hair of our dog. Learning to identify seedling is a wonderful way to accept nature’s gifts.

Often, if I don’t recognize a seedling, I don’t pull it. It’s a gamble to let it grow; yet I often get lucky. (It’s my idea of living dangerously.) Of course, I first check to see if the mystery seedling is part of a group found in only one part of the garden. If it is, the probability is high that the mother plant is nearby. Morning glories are one example of a plant that drops its seeds at its feet. They would, if they could, take over the earth. Besides their glorious good looks, I grow them so curious children can pinch their puffed buds and hear them pop. Each flower blooms for only a day before it literally goes to seed. ‘Heavenly Blue’, a hybrid, drops hundreds of seeds over the course of its 3- to 4-month bloom by my estimation. But the seedling don’t look like their ma. Their small purple flowers are not much to look at. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t wipe out the entire population with one swipe because the seeds don’t germinate all at once. They keep coming all summer and fall with even more showing up the following spring. Some always escape my hoe and bloom. Because I am so fond of the mother I tolerate the kids. You know how it goes.

In a garden, new seedling appear daily. Some are showy: The red leaves of amaranth give it away. Some are gawky: A tulip tree seedling has tulip-shaped leaves too big for its britches. Some are ferny: Nigella, a miniature of its mother, is all a flutter in a light breeze. And some are instantly identifiable: Lupine, for example, has its foliage arranged in tight whorls.  Once I learned to recognize my favorites, I let them be or scoop them up and move them to a better spot. Extras are always welcome to neighbors and Friends. Here are a few of my favorite pictured below:

morning glory seedlings

The troubling bindweed.

lungwort (Pulmoniaria)

Hellebore

wood geranium

The prolific weed, marsh marigold.

a sweetpea seedling

The biannual clary sage's seedling.

An annual poppy seedling

A lupine seedling

a nasturtum

Winter can certainly wreck havoc on a garden, especially an edible landscape. However, the best-designed gardens always have interesting bones that are revealed in winter. A perfect example is the new 12-acre Heartland Harvest Garden, an expansion of Powell Gardens, located in Kingsville, MO about thirty miles east of Kansas City. I recently visited the garden on a cold, icy day, and even without snow cover it was beautiful. The bones of the garden were exposed, laid out in geometric patterns with arbors and trellises that added to its winter interest. It is a young garden, only a few years old and as the trees, shrubs and vines mature it will a garden to visit again and again. There is much to learn from its orchard, vineyard, and vegetable gardens.

From atop the silo, next to the Missouri barn interpretive resource center, the Quilt Garden’s patterns are still visible. Thankfully the foliage was left to ripen over the winter months making it a garden for all seasons. Each of four three-quarter acre squares are planted in traditional “Old Missouri” and Kansas Star” quilt patterns.

An apple sculpture sits at the entrance to the garden.

The gates by the vineyard are decorated with grape leaves.

The pruners perched on the post of the vineyard gate is a humorous touch.

The 45-foot silo is a viewing tower for visitors to see the garden.

This year’s theme at the show was “Passport to the World” and it featured gardens from India, Brasil, China,the Netherlands, New Zealand, Singapore, South Africa and the United States. Here are some of my pictures from the show.

A floral rug was a hit at the India garden.

Quite rightly, the Netherlands showed a spring bulb garden in all its beauty.

The Singapore garden was wall to wall orchids.

At the African garden a metal giraffe was decorated with glass bottles of orchids.

Brazil displayed a lush jungle with floral flamingos.

The China exhibit showcased tree peony in full bloom.

For a fun and funny front door this winter copy Gina Norgard’s design for a snowman. She hung three plain fraser wreaths in three desending sizes and then dressed them with a scarf, mittens and hat.

Frosty the Snowman Wreath

The abundance and the beauty of the wildflowers in mid summer made our drive up into the mountains outside of Aspen a pleasure.  We saw red poppies, blue lupine, white daisies, and lots of thistles.

The views from the mountain side were glorious.

This blue flower was blooming everywhere but I never did get its name.

Our native blue lupines are a favorite of mine.

Red poppies and white daisies blooming together.

What a difference flowers make in beautifying a city street.  Aspen shop owners and city planners have created a town where strolling or sitting on a bench is a pleasant and uplifting experience. Globes of flowers hang from street lamps, clusters of containers are grouped on street corners and storefronts display window boxes. Wouldn’t it be a wonderful country if every village, city or town added flowers to their streets?

I just returned from a week in the romantic city of Venice, Italy. Unless you hire a water taxi, Venice is a walking city, uniquely situated on a group of 114 islands, some only large enough to hold a single home. There are over 400 foot-bridges connecting the islands. 

Italians are very innovative when it comes to gardening. There is very little  unpaved ground, consequently most plants, annuals, vines, perennials and even trees grow in pots. Here are some pictures of the  houses covered in vines, window boxes, containers and peek-a-boo gardens I saw.

The flowers match the docking poles.