Fabulous but forgotten

This post is part of a group blogging project on great old fashioned plants... see links to the other amazing contributions at the bottom of the page.

When I was in Buffalo last summer, we visited a public trial gardens. They had planted out all sorts of the newest, latest, greatest, and most exciting new varieties of annuals and perennials. And then there was a row of Dahlias. Big, impossibly lovely dahlias.

As people leaned in for photos we chatted with the director of the gardens, and he said the dahlias weren't actually part of the trial. He'd just had some extra space, so he stopped at the local big box store, grabbed some random dahlia tubers and put them in to fill the spot.

And they were totally stealing the show – and not just with us, he said everyone who visited commented on them.

Let me repeat that: all the newest, most exciting, hot-off-the-press varieties couldn't hold a candle to a handful of random, no-name dahlias.

photo credit

 Sometimes really great, slightly old-fashioned plants get lost in the flurry of everything that is exciting and new. New is great – I love new plants (and like making new plants) but I think it is time we took another look at dahlias.

photo credit

Quickly, let me run down why dahlias are so freaking awesome.

photo credit

You can get them just about anyway you want them: Tall plants, short plants, tiny flowers obnoxiously huge flowers, doubles, singles, simple, frilly, reds, yellows, pinks, mauve, purplish, basically any color at all except blue. They bloom all summer, have not serious pest problems, and some even have lovely dark purple-red foliage. They look great in the garden, and they are spectacular as cut flowers.

Perhaps my favorite thing about them is: Winter doesn't matter. Winter is a total non-issue. With so many of my plants, I go to great lengths, tucking them into sheltered nooks, building raised beds to give them perfect drainage, I cover them, fret if there isn't enough snow. With Dahlias, I wait until frost, then grab a garden fork, pop them out of the ground, let them dry a day or two, wrap them in dry newspaper, shove them in a bag, and dump them in the basement. It is practically effortless, and no matter what Old Man Winter throws as me, I know they're fine. And even if that tiny bit of work seems like too much, they're cheap enough you can just let them freeze and treat them like annuals.

See other posts on great old-fashioned plants:
From the fabulous Frances
the excellent Ryan Miller (whose idea this was!)
And the remarkable Matt Mattus