The concept of 'bittersweet' - an adjective describing a mixture of sadness and happiness or pleasure and pain - is having its moment in public discourse at the moment, with an inspiring book on the value of the bittersweet being recently published. It's not a word we would normally associate with the pedestrian chore of deadheading in the garden but when I thought about it a bit this week, I could see both joy and satisfaction as well as a certain melancholic poignancy in the task!
Deadheading is an important summer job in the garden. Some of the seasonal flowers that have now finished - especially those with prominent inflorescences - beg to be chopped off now: Agapanthus being the one that comes most quickly to my mind. The finished blooms look quite hideous, and the garden instantly looks better once these have been removed. Also, the removal of the spent heads stops the production of seeds in plants, which can be a menace in your own garden as well as nearby bushland if the plant has a tendency to invade (such as the Agapanthus does!), and also robs the plant of a lot of energy, where it is better for the plant to concentrate on building up its reserves for growing.
Yet I feel a twinge of sadness as I lop off these unsightly heads, because it means that for those that won't rebloom, the glory of their flowering season is over for another year. Our driveway massed with Agapanthus was spectacular this year - how I enjoyed driving along it, with the big blue and white heads bobbing against the car. Hydrangea were also very floriferous this year and their end now reminds me of the big bunches I picked earlier in summer for my house and also to give away to others. It's a reminder that the garden is constantly changing, and we need to savour each plant when it is at its very best!
It is also rather sad deadheading when the deadheads themselves are quite attractive and/or enjoyed by birds, yet for the good of the plant we think we should remove them. Deadheads such as the cute cone-shaped porcupines of Echinacea purpurea and Rudbeckia laciniata for example are rather lovely and sometimes I will just leave a few of them remaining at the end of the plants' blooming period for a while. Several plants in my garden have gorgeous berries or seeds that form after the flowers, which glow like jewels, and I tend to leave these on to enjoy, possibly to the detriment of the plant!
I also sometimes feel sorry for the poor plant so desperately trying to reproduce itself! And sometimes I actually do want the plant to self-seed in my garden: hence I leave the deadheads of some a few specimens of Orlaya and Aquilegia, for example, until the seeds have been dispersed. Self-seeding of such plants brings a certain wildness and informality into the garden and fills in gaps. I would never want to be without these plants.
On a happier note in regard to deadheading, many summer blooms will actually keep going on into autumn if we regularly remove spent flowers. So as well as grooming them, the deadheading promotes new flowers to form. Amongst the good doers in this regard in my garden are Dahlia, Canna, Gerbera, perennial Cleome, perennial Phlox, Pentas, Pelargonium varieties, Justicia carnea, Spiraea japonica, Gardenia, Verbena cultivars, Buddleja, Dichroa, Plectranthus zuluensis, perennial Dianthus and Brillantaisia. Salvia that flower now will also benefit from frequent deadheading, particularly Salvia splendens. Summer annuals benefit from deadheading as well, and this will prolong their display. A light pruning of roses and hybrid Fuchsia done in January can promote further blooming into autumn.
Another positive aspect of deadheading is that it requires us to get up close and personal to our plants when we are doing it so we can see how the plant is going in general and whether there are any problems. Deadheading is something we can do in the garden when we only have a short time available to be outside and doesn't require us to be in full gardening regalia. It is also rather relaxing and almost meditative as we concentrate our attention entirely on the task at hand!
Strikes me that dead-heading is sort of akin to singing to your plants - was that a thing for Charles in earlier days? - paying attention to something so particular can be very instructive as to the overall health of plants and garden I think. BTW - would't mind a pup out of those very surgical pruning scissors! I think it was talking to them or playing music to them? Any sort of paying attention to our plants really does help! Yes those garden snips are so handy for deadheading at any time! Deirdre
A private joke of mine is that when i have staying guests, they invariably say they would love to get out and do something to help in my garden. However, all they get around to doing is deadheading my one rose bush. They never volunteer to do weeding for example, or turning the compost heap, or mowing the lawns...Yes it's a very gentile sort of gardening. Deirdre
Agapanthus deadheading definitely a must do. I become quite agitated when I see some gardens with masses of scraggly green agapathus heads waiting to be lopped. Bit OCD I know but cannot stop myself feeling that way. There are just SO many of those aggie deadheads around my neighbourhood! It's hard not to feel dispirited by them. Deirdre
I'm sad to see the end of the Agapanthus this year too as they truly were magnificent this year in Sydney. I think all the rain we had last year set them up for a great season. Deirdre
Your driveway looks very enticing with all the Agapanthus. I'm gradually deadheading my way through them here. It is rather bittersweet as you say. Thanks for the book reference too.The deadheading of the driveway is a big job! Finished now. I enjoyed the book. Deirdre
Lots of deadheading to be done - dahlias, asters, annuals, pentas, lilums, etc. and although it is not exactly deadheading, cutting back the abutilons and plectranthus, plus any other plant which is reaching for the sky! Yes the other summer pruning jobs are important too. Deirdre
A while ago you wrote a wonderful piece about a public street in Annandale that had been converted into a botanical wonder. I can't find it. Please remind me the location Ron Thanks, Ron, you can find that blog about Ferris Lane (The Magic Lane) : here Deirdre
November climbers
17 Nov 24
Explore some of the vines in flower now.
Hydrangea buddies
10 Nov 24
Good companions for Hydrangea shrubs
Fuchsia time
03 Nov 24
November sees fuchsias come into their own.
Self-sown surprises in spring
27 Oct 24
It's fun to discover new plants in the garden.
Silver in the shade
20 Oct 24
Some beautiful silver-foliage plants thrive in shade.