© Janet Davis

 

 

If my garden was a moving picture, I know exactly where I’d freeze the frame – on that perfect morning in late May or early June when sunshine lights the shade-dappled corners where columbines grow amidst the ferns.

 

There’s a parade of columbines in gardens, starting with the old-fashioned pink and blue Aquiliegia vulgaris.   With its delicate red spurs surrounding yellow petals, native Easter columbine, A. canadensis, fits perfectly in a late-spring border of brilliant primary colors offset by fresh spring green – red, yellow and orange tulips mixed with nodding Virginia bluebells and wild blue phlox.  (It attracts hummingbirds!)

 

Rocky Mountain columbine, A. caerulea, has sumptuous blue-and-white flowers at about 16 inches. I grow this one with hay-scented fern. Then comes the double-flowered European hybrid, “Nora Barlow,” taller still at 20 inches or so. Her spurless blossoms are an engaging combination of pink and greenish white that make wonderful cut flowers. And unlike many columbine hybrids whose seed produces inferior offspring, her seed “comes true.”

 

Later still, around delphinium time, come the ‘McKana Giants’, shown above, tall plants that grow to 36 inches and bear lovely upfacing flowers, sometimes bi-coloured, with extremely long spurs. The seed they produce is inferior, so new plants should be started from named seed.

 

Golden columbine, A. chrysantha, shown at right, is another tall one, but in a clear daffodil yellow and quite fragrant. This would be effective paired with blue Jacob’s ladder or blue camassia.

 

The long-spurred hybrids hold their own in the early summer perennial border although the mixes make designing by color tricky and look best in the company of ferns and hostas.

 

Grow columbines in moist, rich, well-drained soil in sun or light shade.  They are amazingly easy from seed.

.

Foliage, alas, is columbine’s only defect.   As summer warms, columbines are often attacked by leaf miners, tiny larvae of a small fly that tunnel through the foliage, leaving behind a telltale yellow roadmap. But these little critters do no long-term harm. If seriously infested plants are cut back to the ground, fresh new foliage will soon emerge.   And the odd creepy-crawler is a small price to pay for such an engaging plant.

 

Adapted from a column published originally in the Toronto Sun

 

Back to Perennials