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Plant Life Valerie Easton

Combining Strengths

For information and inspiration, a list recalls the pleasures we've seen

BIRDERS KEEP a life list of all the birds they've ever seen. Writing down bird names and locations is a way to collect, document, study and celebrate the diversity and richness of avian life. The list is a record of how, when and where a specific human life has intersected with that of a bird's.

Revisiting such a list must evoke not only the sensory pleasures of feather flash and bird song, but also memories of specific locations and the thrill of original sightings.

So why aren't gardeners keeping a life list of plants? Aren't we just as adventurous in our global garden-hopping, cameras and notebooks in hand, as birders are with their binoculars? Don't we get just as excited when we spot a gorgeous or unusual plant?

Garden artistry is all about putting plants together, so I suggest it's plant combinations we should be out there collecting and recording. What about all those inspired plant vignettes you've admired — and let's admit it, craved — in other people's gardens? We always think we'll remember which purple clematis we saw on a garden tour last summer, wrapping itself so gloriously through an amber rose. But which rose, which clematis? These images fade all too quickly, and the plant names, if we ever got them in the first place, vanish even faster. We're left with hazy impressions that may be pleasant enough, but don't help guide us when selecting and combining plants in our own gardens.

Satisfying gardens are created one plant combination at a time, whether a simple pairing of perennials that look pretty growing together, or a masterful mix of trees, shrubs, groundcovers and bulbs. Such orchestration can be very complicated when you consider plant height, texture, color, sequencing and cultural requirements. Why not jot these down and keep a life-long list — a practical tool to take with you on nursery visits or walks around the garden to serve as both muse and memory.

Too often, when I compliment a plant combination, the gardener is quick to disclaim originality. They almost apologize for the beauty they've created, giving credit to a photo they've seen in a book. Some sheepishly confess to "stealing" the idea from someone else's garden.

Please, there's no stealing about it. All creative people borrow inspiration. Besides, there's no specific recipe that guarantees outcome. Plants are so influenced by site, sun and soil that no matter how hard you try to duplicate any combination of plants, you'll end up making something unique to your own garden and sensibilities.

It's kind of like words and writing. As I read, I collect words that I get a kick out of and aren't part of my usual vocabulary. I hope to use these words somehow, someway in my own writing. This isn't plagiarism, but a way to jolt myself out of too-familiar word patterns. I can't help but want to make my own words like "ineffable," "priggish" and "anathema" (from "Wormholes" by John Fowles) or "slogged," "shard" and "mettle" (Tom Wolfe's "The Painted Word"). Collecting such words is a working reminder of the richness of the language and all its possibilities.

A plant-combo life list might work in much the same way. It could help us recall not only the swoon-inducing fragrance of 'Casablanca' lilies but of how elegantly they stood out against a backdrop of dark yews. Or how black mondo grass never looked as deeply ebony as when growing in a sea of yellow creeping Jenny. There are always new species and cultivars, as well as fresh ways to make the most of them. So why not document what you see and love as you pass through a lifetime of gardens?

Valerie Easton is a Seattle freelance writer. Her e-mail address is valeaston@comcast.net. Jacqueline Koch is a Seattle-based freelance photographer and writer.

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