Lament for a perfectly good grass

'Karl Foerster' in happier daysToday I became bored with ‘Karl Foerster’ feather reed grass (Calamagrostis×acutiflora ‘Karl Foerster,’ Zone 4) which I’ve had in the front garden for four years. Perhaps that’s not what I really mean. It’s more correct to say, I’ve grown too familiar with ‘Karl Foerster.’ This is a terrific plant with lots of character and impeccable growing credentials—graceful arching blades, lovely soft seed heads, no pests, doesn’t seed or run, always stands straight and tall, even in snow. So why be suddenly disinterested in the plant? Well, it’s been coming for a while, and simply because ‘Karl Foerster’ is over planted.  Everywhere I look, I see Karl.

Although I’ve been faithful to a few valued friends and never tire of my children, sometimes I can just see a beautiful image too many times. Good plants like ‘Karl Foerster’ are recognized for their ornamental value and clean living habits, and it’s no wonder they’re repeatedly planted. Sometimes I see Karl clustered in  groups of a dozen or more, as I just passed on the road outside a gas station, where they’re combined with mugo pine and a drift of deep burgundy heuchera. It’s a gorgeous display, sitting out in full sun and wind. That site is the work of a professional landscaper, and it’s such a successful combination, I’m sure identical installations are gracing street corners all through the city.

You can’t argue with success, but I think you might appreciate it less when it’s so easily attainable. It seems common sense that if I can see dozens of clumps of this ornamental grass at the gas station, I may as well give the space in my front perennial bed to something a bit more exclusive. (Do I sense a plant-snob attack coming on?)

Garden centres have done a masterful job of providing top quality plants. I can even purchase ‘Karl Foerster’ in the supermarket parking lot when I buy the family bread and butter. Ease of availability is wonderful and saves so much time. But taking away the necessity to strive for beautiful plants, to hunt and search them out (and meet interesting people in the process), or even better, to grow them from seed—it could be that the loss of those struggles undermines the satisfaction of growing a plant that was difficult to attain. I’m just sayin’.

So I guess Karl is going to find a new location in the back garden when I start shifting plants around this month. As the blues muscian B. B. King says, “The thrill is gone.”