The clowns of my garden

I feel it’s quite common for new gardeners to want to translate their interior aesthetic to their outside spaces.

And if that style comes from a very monochromatic, simplified, “Marie Kondo-esque” place, then they often find themselves ruling out bright flowers (if flowers are allowed at all), thinking that colour remains their arch-enemy, even beyond their living room and wardrobe.

What I have discovered though is that colour behaves really differently when produced by Mother Nature. I, for instance, would never buy a red top or an orange cushion, but I have come to prize my hot geums and obsessively collect punchy rudbeckia at every chance.

Somehow my garden is full of purple blooms, my longest disliked colour, yet I find myself in a love affair with the entire spectrum, when applied to petals. Colour in the garden comes part-in-parcel with texture and form, adding the dimension that any good space requires to deliver that interesting, seasonal vibe.

Julia Atkinson-Dunn in her garden featuring rudbeckia and echinacea (1).jpg

My love for clownish echinacea, rudbeckia and, now, heleniums still surprises me to this day, revealing a part of my style-psyche I didn’t know existed. They are so outrageously graphic in shape and form, it is an endless wonder that they are “natural”, rather than dreamed up from a Dr. Seuss book. All present prominent cone/dome-shaped centres that change as the season progresses, offering interest well beyond the demise of their petals. Each species is incredibly long-flowering, right into autumn, is excellent for picking and undoubtedly adds interest when dotted through airy soft planting.

Echinacea, rudbeckia and heleniums in with sanguisorba officinalis, cosmos, thalictrum, Japanese anemones, geums, knautia macedonica, scabiosa, shasta daisies, fennel and a sunflower.

Echinacea, rudbeckia and heleniums in with sanguisorba officinalis, cosmos, thalictrum, Japanese anemones, geums, knautia macedonica, scabiosa, shasta daisies, fennel and a sunflower.

Counting up the other day (following a bit of a blow-out at the garden centre perennials table), I found I now have nine varieties of echinacea establishing themselves around the place. They are such a terrific example of a summer-flowering perennial, bringing all of the advantages, with steadily increasing displays every year, pleasing cut-and-come again blooms and an abundance of seeds to collect and feed your bird population.

This happy bloom is a great place for the less confident to start with the soft white varieties of “Baby Swan White”, “Primadonna White” and “Alba”. But once you catch the bug, browse around the options of Echinacea angustifolia and Echinacea pallida varieties, the latter with cool droopy petals. Look up “Giant Lime” for interesting green and pink petals, or my new favourite, “Hula Dancer”, with its tall stems and gorgeous pale, droopy petals. There are also terrific double-bloomed options and acid-y, almost neon brights in coral.

Echinacea “Hula Dancer” with fennel and thalictrum - find from Blueskin Nursery in Waitati. They post!

Echinacea “Hula Dancer” with fennel and thalictrum - find from Blueskin Nursery in Waitati. They post!

Various echinacea blooms.

Various echinacea blooms.

Echnicacea “Alba” in the garden mid summer

Echnicacea “Alba” in the garden mid summer

I have waded through a two-year experiment with rudbeckia, testing both perennial and annual varieties. It’s the former that has grabbed me and their brilliant performances have overtaken my expectations, resulting in orange explosions throughout my garden. After this year’s meagre sunflower performance, I have decided that my rudbeckia is more than worthy to take their crown as the cheerful display each year.

My favourites so far have proven to be very tall-growing “Irish Eyes”, with its enormous sculptural blooms and a centre that starts as pale green deepening to brown. Equally, I love my “Goldsturm”, which is far more delicate, producing nice, straight stems and delicate star-shaped blooms. The one I covet the most, however, is Rudbeckia laciniata, with its green cones and more delicate yellow petals.

Rudebackia and echinacea in my mid summer garden with red geums and fennel

Rudebackia and echinacea in my mid summer garden with red geums and fennel

Rudbeckia “Irish Eyes”

Rudbeckia “Irish Eyes”

Rudbeckia “Goldsturm”

Rudbeckia “Goldsturm”

I have only just dipped my toe into the land of heleniums, as I was initially unsure of their predominately “hot” range of colour varieties. Believe it or not, the old Julia still sends a subconscious warning when considering anything orange. But the two plants I have (divided from one bought last autumn) are incredible. Flowering from before Christmas, they are still refusing to give up now. They outlast every single neighbour in a vase and their petite form is great fun to dot through arrangements.

I have a little less advice of my own to offer here, as I only have the one, which is Helenium “Waltraut”, with tiger-ish coloured petals. Some I have my eye on for the future are “Moerheim Beauty” and “Lord of Flanders”, with its maroon blooms.

Helenium “Waltraut” with thalictrum, Japanese anemone and echinacea

Helenium “Waltraut” with thalictrum, Japanese anemone and echinacea

All in all, providing you pick the perennial options, these cone flowers will bring you yearly joy. Grow from seed, make sure you give them some decent sun (although they aren’t too fussy with part-shade) and get picking to bring the fun indoors too. Not all are readily available at mainstream garden centres, so get googling, as we have so many terrific independent nurseries who can send you these options and I have often struck gold when trawling online trading platforms.

Lastly, a wee tip for picking. Once the bloom fades in the vase, simply pluck off the spent petals and add to another arrangement as quirky “balls”. Weird, but cool for homegrown bunches.

This article was first featured in my Stuff ‘Homed’ gardening column for beginners and The Press on March 4th 2021
All words and images are my own, shot in my garden in Christchurch, New Zealand.