Gardening scars are useful reminders of past mistakes

Scars made in the garden are slow to heal and, in fact, may never disappear.

I’m not talking about physical injuries sustained from trying to prune rose bushes, the pain of which I was reminded of just last weekend. I’m talking about the plants that have wronged us in some way, leaving deep emotional scars.

If you’ve been gardening for long enough, you’ve certainly had run ins with bad-acting plants.

For me, one of the first plants to create scars deep enough to make me flinch merely at its mention was Artemisia vulgaris ‘Janlim,’ commonly sold as Oriental Limelight. It was, like many of the plants that ended up in my garden in the early days of my gardening experience, a stunner I picked up at the garden center on a whim. It featured dramatic variegated green and chartreuse foliage worthy of its name.

And I was delighted when it performed so well its first year, filling up an area very quickly. “Great bang for the buck,” I probably thought at the time.

By the second year it was in my garden, it became clear to me that I had a problem on my hands, and at some point I realized it had to go. It was summarily dismissed from the garden and I moved on with my gardening life, a little more careful to investigate plants before throwing them in the garden.

But Oriental Limelight wasn’t through with me. For years, it has popped up in the garden, even now, as an innocent enough looking little shoot, but I know this enemy well by now, and it is immediately dispatched.

The scars from that encounter and its regular reminders created an abhorrence of Artemisia that was a bit unearned. Oriental Limelight is a variety of Artemisia native to Europe and northern Asia that spreads rapidly by rhizomes. But Artemisia ludoviciana is native to North America and far less rambunctious.

So, more than 15 years after Oriental Limelight came into my life, I allowed another Artemisia into my life last year. ‘Silver Linings’ is a new introduction that is a hybrid of the native Artemisia and pretty enough that I allowed it in the garden last year. When I planted it, I warned it that it would be under close scrutiny for mutinous behavior.

Plants that have created such scars aren’t always bad actors. Sometimes they are delightful plants that continue to die despite our best efforts. I can think of several such plants, including redbuds (Cercis canadensis), a number of Japanese maples (Acer palmatum) and a few perennials that fall under the category of just not having the right conditions or being so irresistible to deer that no deterrent will save them.

I appreciate seeing these plants in other gardens, and as time heals the wounds a little I am sometimes tempted to try them “just one more time.”

Garden scars can be helpful, flaring up when we’re tempted to go down the same faulty road again and reminding us why we definitely shouldn’t.