Once in awhile I have to embark on a gardening splurge. When I use the word splurge, I don’t mean that I simply spend more money than I was expecting to spend or that I bought three of one plant instead of one. I’m talking about the classic, overblown splurge when I indulge myself in some luxury or pleasure that has been biding its time in the back of my mind, just waiting for destiny to bring us together. Making a trip to my favorite nursery in early spring and bringing home the esteemed Pagoda Dogwood (Cornus controversa ‘Variegata’) is just one example of a plant splurge.
The Pagoda Dogwood is one of those plants that stands out in a crowd, appearing to have lovelier foliage, a more intricate silhouette and a more distinct charm than your average garden shrub or tree. Young stems are deep purplish brown and tiers of white flowers are borne in wide clusters above the foliage during May and June. The rounded, purple-black fruits ripen in July and even the fruit stalks draw your eye with a rich, pinkish-red tint, more ornamental than the fruit. The Latin word, variegata, indicates that the foliage has markings of a different color than the tree’s basic leaf color. In this case the variegation is creamy white on a bright green background.
Many years ago I splurged on two giant weeping sequoia trees (Sequoiadendron giganteum ‘Pendula’). I planted one on each side of the back lawn, to the south of my extensive property, with the intention of focusing the visitor’s view on the distant cityscape. The idea of framing the view had intrigued me for a long time. Fortunately, I held off filling that void in my ideal garden vision until I found what I thought would be the ultimate plant selection. Now, when I envision these animated, bookend conifers framing the view of the city below, I can only wonder if my concept became a reality.
In the garden world, everything is subjective, so what seems extravagant in the garden for you might not be extravagant in the garden for me. For some gardeners, extravagance means exorbitantly high-priced and for others it is merely a matter of crossing boundaries. Some find the shocking pink, crepe paper blossoms of the ‘Kwanzan’ flowering cherry tree brassy, too garish to grow in their own gardens. Others consider this flower a confirmation that spring has arrived in the Pacific Northwest. Ultimately, selling plants is an industry in the Pacific Northwest. The ones we want the most inevitably cost us more than the others. Shop around for the best price; you can still consider the final purchase a splurge.
