I'm Dreaming of a White Garden

I first became enchanted with the idea of a white garden after reading about the one that poet and garden writer Vita Sackville-West and her husband Harold Nicolson created at Sissinghurst Castle in England, beginning in the 1930s. Sissinghurst's garden is one of the best-loved in the whole of the United Kingdom.

Vita Sackville-West (1892-1962),above,  in 1913

Below are pictures of the beautiful white garden at Sissinghurst

I have been thinking about and planning, in my head at least, a white garden for many years. I’ve planted many white shrubs and flowers, but never with an overall plan. Maybe this is the year I will make it a reality.

By day, white flowers are a pleasing and unusual picture. But at night they are enchanting. The shapes of the flowers stand out as if they were shimmering lights.

A white garden comes alive at night. It is full of magic and mystery. Walk among the white plants and notice that they take on an eerie glow in the moonlight. Listen to the crickets and cicadas, the katydids and tree frogs. If you’re lucky you’ll see a busy hawkmoth and other nectar gatherers. And if you’ve chosen fragrant plants, ah, well that’s a little bit of heaven here on Earth.

My white garden will include:

Deutzia shrub

Mock orange shrub

Azalea

Confederate jasmine

White lily

Winter honeysuckle

Four o’clock

Petunia

Pansy

Lily-of-thet-Valley

Trumpet daffodil

Nicotiana (started from seed, as they are rarely, if ever, offered at local nurseries)

Tuberose

Cosmos

Moonflower – no white garden would be complete without this vigorous vine. A lamppost or arbor is a must. Again, must start from seed.

Hosta

Japanese Iris

Candytuft

Impatient (shade garden only)

Rose (Iceburg)

Strategically placed among the plantings, I would like a few acccents: statuary, urns with flowers flowing over the sides, a gazing ball.

Have you ever planted a theme garden? If so I'd love to hear about it. I will report my results back to you at a later date.

The thought of a white garden under the moonlight makes me wax poetic!

Already with thee! tender is the night
And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,
Clustered around by all her starry Fays;
But here there is no light.
Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown
Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways

I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,
Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,
But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet
Wherewith the seasonable month endows
The grass, the thicket, and the fruit tree wild;
White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine;
Fast fading violets covered up in leaves;
And mid-May's eldest child,
The coming musk rose, full of dewy wine,
The murmurous haunt of files on summer eves.

John Keats, from Ode to a Nightengale