Hooked on Hostas

I’ve been gardening in some form or fashion since I was a child. It got serious a decade ago after we stopped moving all over God’s creation. Set down in a climate known for fluctuating extremes, I started with growing heirloom vegetables from seed. You might say I did everything the hard way.

I like a challenge. I used to pooh-pooh hostas. They were too easy, too familiar.

But I got older and the sun seemed to get hotter. Eventually like the cowboy who thinks the girls all look prettier at closing time, I took another look at hostas. I found they weren’t half-bad.

Around that time I hit the mother lode; a free pick-up bed of discarded Hosta “Albomarginata”. What they didn’t know was their loss, was my gain.

Beneath a small grove of trees, in a sweeping S-curve these variegated beauties now steer the eye away from my compost/work area. Behind them I have added astilbe, various shrubs, and a local artist’s large ceramic mushrooms. I find myself trekking to the compost bin just to pass by this lovely vignette.

There are hundreds of hosta varieties thanks to all the clever plant breeders only willing to feed the public’s addiction to this popular plant. I find myself drawn to the classics for now; “Frances Williams”, “Gold Standard”, “Sum and Substance”.

Too bad it took me so long to recognize the versatility of hostas. They work in mixed shade borders, thrive around trees where grass is sparse, flourish as a groundcover, and look like modern sculpture in pots. They are tropical without all the temperament.

Depending upon your climate the shapely leaves can sometimes reach Jurassic proportions. The flowers are not usually significant but some, mostly white or lavender, are fragrant and attract hummingbirds and butterflies. Any problems with slugs I quickly address with a dusting of diatomaceous earth, which is available at most garden centers.

I haven’t joined the Hosta Society yet, but nowadays I am willing to pay good money for them!