Shade Gardens and ‘The Gardener’s Mindset’: An Excerpt from Stephen Orr’s New Book

This essay is excerpted and adapted from The Gardener’s Mindset: Connecting with Nature Through Plants by Stephen Orr, out now from Clarkson Potter. All images courtesy of Stephen Orr. 

Over the years, I’ve come to appreciate the more subdued charms of a shade garden. The woodland-loving plants that thrive with little sun may seem modest and even a bit shy. But as I’ve matured as a gardener, I’ve discovered that a well-chosen shade planting can contain more visual detail and interest than a sunny herbaceous flower bed. Grand sun-loving statements are meant to be viewed from afar with blocks of color arranged in drifts. Shade gardens ask to be looked at close-up. Their complex leaf patterns and variegation open the eyes in a different way. My conversion was partly due to necessity. The tree canopy in two of our former gardens made sun-loving plants an impossibility.

Our previous garden in an old neighborhood in Des Moines was blessed with several towering ash trees. To plant under them, I had to adjust my vision and come up with new concepts. I learned to pay more attention to leaf color, pattern, and the finely wrought intricacies of tiny, graceful flowers. Shade gardening is for connoisseurs of subtlety, and there is a real artistry in leaning into that.

After removing the crushed stone the previous owners had spread beneath the ashes, I was disappointed to find exactly what I had expected—hardpan soil and a thick web of tree roots. Over the following weeks, I carefully dug around the tree’s massive roots and loosened up the earth wherever I could successfully wedge in a trowel, while adding compost and soil conditioners to support the new plantings.

I focused on identifying species that could tolerate the dry shade conditions under the trees. There were a few existing hostas but nothing else of interest. I had to let go of my fixation on flowers and explore foliage textures and patterns—all the possible options for streaks, lines, veins, spots, and striations. I landed on a mix of low-growing perennials I hoped might brighten up the front walk. It turned out to be one of my most rewarding gardening successes, and I discovered a whole new palette of plants in the process, some of which do have exceptional blooms as well as decorative leaves.

Above: Orr likes to take photos as a visual journal of his gardening efforts; this shot documents the foliage from his shade garden.

I rarely tell casual acquaintances about my obsession with lungworts—unless of course they ask for advice on shade gardening. These perennials are most known for their handsome leaves, which are spotted and lung-shaped; hence their genus name Pulmonaria. I knew about the leaves before growing them but had no idea of the magnificence of their flowers, which start off in a range of pinks or reds and then, over a few days, turn bluish-purple. The process is a pollinator-attraction strategy that occurs as the pH levels shift blossom by blossom, causing a dynamic visual effect as they change. The color range is thought to direct pollinators toward newer, more nectar-rich reddish-pink flowers and away from older blue flowers. Noticing the shifts between the fluid purple shades is one of those understated charms that can turn any gardener into a shadenista. The leaf colors are there for the rest of the growing season after the spring flowers depart. I’m partial to the silver, almost white-leaved lungworts, like ‘Moonshine’, ‘Diana Clare’, or ‘Opal’, that brighten the shade and glow at dusk.