Read by Matilda Longbottom

Let me tell you a secret about how I accidentally became a flower person. For years, I was strictly a vegetable gardener – the kind who smugly insisted that if you couldn’t eat it, why bother growing it? Marigolds in the tomato bed? Sure, they keep pests away. Nasturtiums? Edible flowers, totally counts. But growing flowers just for the sheer frivolity of beauty? Please.

Then we bought our house from people who were clearly flower enthusiasts with a dyed mulch addiction. I’m talking pristine beds with color-coordinated blooms and enough brown bark mulch to bankrupt a small nation. My first thought wasn’t “how lovely” – it was “I am absolutely not spending my weekends weeding someone else’s high-maintenance flower fantasy.”

So began my cottage garden rebellion. Out went the rigid rows and in came the beautiful chaos. The thing nobody tells you about creating a cottage garden is that it’s basically controlled anarchy with a seven-year learning curve. You start with good intentions and a vague idea about “tall things in back, short things in front,” and somehow end up with creeping thyme staging a hostile takeover of your pathways while that “dwarf” delphinium you planted reaches NBA heights.

But here’s what happened somewhere between year three (when I accidentally killed an entire bed of expensive perennials) and year seven (when I finally seemed to figure out which zone I actually live in): I fell hard for flowers. Not just any flowers – I became obsessed with creating a living rainbow that would bloom through every season. Now I’m that person haunting the garden center each month, hunting for the perfect shade of orange to complement the purple salvia, because apparently my garden can’t just be purple anymore. It needs to be a technicolor dreamscape where every walk outside feels like stumbling into a Monet painting – if Monet had a slight plant-buying problem and a tendency to forget where he planted things.

Now, in the next few sections I’m going to share my favorites that I’ve planted, and the lists are labeled using traditional seasons for four-season planting zones, but I’ve also included average temperatures so you can decide what applies to you, and I’ve also added two sections, one for if you live in the desert and another if you live in the warmer climates where flowers are still blooming in the Winter. Enjoy!

Spring or Temperature Range: 40-70°F (4-21°C)

Spring in my garden is like watching a very slow, very dramatic theater production where all the actors are plants and half of them miss their cues. But when they finally get it together? Magic. Pure, muddy, pollen-covered magic.

Pink:

• Creeping Phlox – The overachiever that carpets everything in sight
• Bleeding Hearts – Drama queens of the garden, swooning elegantly
• Pink Primrose – The reliable friend who shows up early to every party
• Coral Bells (Heuchera) – Subtle but stunning, like that friend who’s quietly hilarious

Red:

• Red Tulips – Yes, they’re technically bulbs, but they come back like clockwork
• Red Columbine – The wild child with the fancy hat
• Red Primula – Compact powerhouses of color
• Sweet William – Old-fashioned charm with a modern twist

Purple:

• Purple Crocus – First to the party, usually wearing snow boots
• Grape Hyacinth – Spreads faster than garden gossip
• Purple Iris – Tall, elegant, and slightly snooty
• Ajuga (Bugleweed) – Ground cover that thinks it owns the place

Blue:

• Forget-Me-Nots – Ironic name since they’ll never let you forget them
• Brunnera – Heart-shaped leaves that look like they’re wearing silver jewelry
• Virginia Bluebells – The Spring ephemeral that ghosts you by June
• Periwinkle (Vinca) – Tough as nails with a delicate appearance

Yellow

• Daffodils – The eternal optimists of Spring
• Yellow Primrose – Cheerful even on rainy days
• Basket-of-Gold (Aurinia) – Cascades like liquid sunshine
• Yellow Iris – Standing tall when everything else is still waking up

Orange:

• Orange Tulips – Because sometimes you need a traffic cone in your garden
• Welsh Poppy – Self-seeds with wild abandon
• Orange Primula – Rare but worth the hunt
• Geum ‘Totally Tangerine’ – Blooms that look like tiny suns

White:

• White Bleeding Hearts – The elegant cousin at the garden party
• Candytuft – Spreads like frosting on a cake
• White Columbine – Delicate dancers in the breeze
• Sweet Woodruff – Ground cover that smells like vanilla when you step on it

Summer or Temperature Range: 70-95°F (21-35°C)

Summer is when my garden really shows off, and also when I spend most mornings in my pajamas, coffee in one hand, hose in the other, muttering apologies to wilting plants. It’s a season of extremes – blazing heat, torrential downpours, and flowers so vibrant they practically glow in the dark.

Pink:

• Pink Coneflowers (Echinacea) – Drought-defying divas of the garden
• Pink Bee Balm – Hummingbird magnets with attitude
• Pink Astilbe – Feathery plumes that thrive in shade
• Pink Phlox – Tall and fragrant, prone to dramatic swooning
• Pink Yarrow – Drought-tolerant overachiever

Red:

• Red Bee Balm (Monarda) – Spiky punk rock flowers
• Red Daylilies – Not actually lilies, but we don’t talk about that
• Cardinal Flower (Lobelia) – Hummingbird heaven
• Red Hot Poker (Kniphofia) – Exactly what it sounds like
• Red Salvia – Blooms until frost like it’s got something to prove

Purple:

• Purple Coneflower – The classic that started the Echinacea craze
• Lavender – Smells like vacation, attracts every bee in the neighborhood
• Russian Sage – Not Russian, barely sage, but gorgeous
• Purple Salvia – Spiky attitude with staying power
• Catmint – Your cat’s favorite, spreads with enthusiasm

Blue:

• Blue Delphinium – Tall, stunning, and slightly high-maintenance
• Blue Veronica – Spiky speedsters that bloom all Summer
• Blue Platycodon (Balloon Flower) – Kids love popping the buds
• Blue Baptisia – Native powerhouse with seed pods that rattle
• Blue Geranium – True geranium, not the imposter annuals

Yellow:

• Black-Eyed Susans – The golden retrievers of the flower world
• Yellow Coreopsis – Blooms like it’s getting paid by the flower
• Evening Primrose – Opens at dusk for the night shift pollinators
• Yellow Yarrow – Flat-topped landing pads for butterflies
• Rudbeckia ‘Goldsturm’ – Reliable as sunrise

Orange

• Orange Daylilies – The ditch lily that cleans up nice
• Orange Butterfly Weed – Monarch butterfly nursery
• Orange Coneflower – The trendy cousin of purple coneflower
• Helenium – Late Summer show-stopper
• Orange Oriental Poppy – Brief but brilliant

White:

• White Phlox – Evening fragrance that stops you in your tracks
• Shasta Daisies – Classic cottage garden staple
• White Astilbe – Shade garden savior
• White Coneflower – Elegant alternative to the pink
• White Yarrow – Lacy and long-lasting

Extreme Summer or Temperature Range: 95–115°F (35–46°C)

Areas like the desert and Arizona are upside down when it comes to gardening (don’t you know it!) Water in the morning? Your plants will be crispy by noon. Plant in full sun? That’s a death sentence.

I’ve done my best to come with a list for those of you gardening in this climate, and here’s the miracle – some perennials actually THRIVE in this madness. Now, I’ll be honest with you (because we’re friends here) – when it hits 115°F+, even these desert warriors appreciate a little afternoon shade or an extra drink of water. They’re tough, not invincible.

Pink:

• Pink Penstemon – Desert native that laughs at 110°F
• Desert Willow – Orchid-like flowers when everything else has given up
• Pink Autumn Sage (Salvia greggii) – Blooms through the worst of it

Red:

• Red Yucca – Sends up alien-looking spikes of red
• Firecracker Penstemon – Hummingbird magnet in hell’s heat
• Chuparosa – Means “hummingbird” in Spanish for good reason

Purple:

• Purple Trailing Lantana – Handles 110°F like a champ
• Texas Sage (Leucophyllum) – Blooms after monsoons like magic
• Desert Verbena – Ground cover that thrives on neglect

Blue:

• Blue Plumbago – One of the few blues that works everywhere
• Desert Bluebells – Ephemeral but worth the wait
• Blue Sage (Salvia azurea) – Different species, same tough attitude

Yellow:

• Brittlebush – Desert daisies that bloom in furnace heat
• Desert Marigold – Blooms 10 months a year like it’s showing off
• Damianita – Tiny daisies on silver mounds

Orange:

• Orange Esperanza – Tropical-looking in the desert
• Desert Mallow (Sphaeralcea) – Native hibiscus relative
• Orange Jubilee (Tecoma) – Blooms through the worst heat

White:

• Blackfoot Daisy – Tiny but mighty
• White Autumn Sage – Reliable when nothing else is
• Desert Zinnia – Paper-like flowers that last forever

Fall or Temperature Range: 45-75°F (7-24°C)

Fall is when my garden throws its final party of the year, and like any good party, it goes out with a bang. The colors get richer, the bees get frantic, and I pretend I’m going to clean up the garden beds before Winter. (Spoiler: I won’t.) For Fall, you can also decide to go with an Autumn theme and stick to yellows, oranges, reds and whites.

Pink:

• Pink Asters – The life of the Autumn party
• Pink Sedum ‘Autumn Joy’ – Changes color like a mood ring
• Pink Chrysanthemums – Classic Fall bloomers
• Pink Anemone – Delicate dancers in the breeze
• Joe Pye Weed – Native giant that butterflies adore

Red:

• Red Chrysanthemums – Because it’s not Fall without mums
• Red Sedum – Succulent flowers that laugh at drought
• Red Asters – Late bloomers worth waiting for
• Red Montbretia (Crocosmia) – Hummingbird magnets
• Red Blanket Flower – Blooms until hard frost

Purple:

• Purple Asters – New England natives that feed everyone
• Purple Ironweed – Tall, tough, and monarch-approved
• Fall Blooming Clematis – Climbing surprise party
• Purple Mums – The traditional choice
• Purple Liatris – a native perennial that blooms late and attracts butterflies

Blue:

• Blue Asters – Hard to find but worth the hunt
• Blue Plumbago – Delicate flowers, tough constitution
• Blue Monkshood – Beautiful but don’t eat it
• Hardy Ageratum – Fluffy blue clouds
• Blue Sage – Native late bloomer

Yellow:

• Goldenrod – Not the allergy culprit you think it is
• Yellow Mums – Bright spots in the fading garden
• Helianthus (Perennial Sunflower) – Mini suns on stems
• Yellow Sedum – Ground cover gold
• Rudbeckia ‘Herbstsonne’ – Tall yellow coneflower

Orange:

• Orange Mums – The pumpkin spice latte of flowers
• Orange Helenium ‘Mardi Gras’ – Party-colored pollinator buffet
• Orange Blanket Flower (Gaillardia) – Refuses to quit even when you want it to
• Orange Kniphofia – Fall-blooming poker that heats up the cooling garden
• Orange Sneezeweed – Terrible name, gorgeous flowers

White:

• White Asters – Clean and classic
• White Mums – Elegant restraint in a season of excess
• White Japanese Anemone – Graceful shade lovers
• Boltonia – Clouds of tiny daisies
• White Sedum – Unusual and lovely

Winter Bonus Round (Temperature Range: 35-60°F (2-15°C))

If you’re gardening in zones 8–10, first of all, the rest of us are jealous. Second, here’s your Winter rainbow lineup.

The Winter Warriors:

• Hellebores – Available in pink, purple, white, yellow, and even near-black
• Winter Jasmine – Yellow cascades of hope
• Camellias – Pink, red, and white options that bloom like roses
• Winter Heath – Pink and white carpet of tiny bells
• Pansies – Yes, they’re perennial in warm zones!
• Cyclamen – Pink, white, and red butterflies hovering over marbled leaves
• Winter Honeysuckle – White flowers with intoxicating fragrance

Here’s the truth about creating a rainbow garden: It’s never quite as perfect as the vision in your head. Sometimes the oranges clash with the pinks. Sometimes everything blooms at once and then nothing for three weeks. Sometimes you plant a flower that turns out to be poisonous next to your kid’s garden path, and you need to hack it down. Sometimes the rabbits eat all your purple flowers because apparently they have sophisticated taste.

But when it works? When you walk out on a Spring morning and see every color dancing together? When Summer evenings are spent deadheading while hummingbirds zip between the reds and oranges? When Fall’s last hurrah includes purple asters covered in migrating monarchs? That’s when you know all the mud, sweat, and accidental plant murders were worth it.

My cottage garden might have started as a rebellion against expensive mulch, but it’s become my own personal rainbow factory. And unlike the actual rainbow, this one sticks around all season long – no pot of gold required, just a lot of patience and a slightly obsessive plant-buying habit.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go apologize to that new Bloomerang lilac I forgot to water yesterday. Again. ❖