Perhaps no other plant produces quite the sensation of calm and tranquility than the fern does. With their graceful arching fronds, and often-intricately-divided leaves that look more like lace than some spore-sown terrestrial being, ferns run the gamut from tiny and delicate to towering and awe-inspiring. For our gardens here in upstate New York, ferns provide a varied and constantly undulating form that adds elegance and grace to any setting.
With the exception of the potted Kimberly ferns that we replace each year, all of our ferns are winter-hardy, surviving the brutality of a Zone 5 snow and ice laden landscape, exhibiting a durability that belies their fine form. A beauty that’s also a brute – that’s my kind of plant.
Aside from their hardiness, I grow ferns for the peaceful countenance they give the garden. Whether it’s the five-finger Maidenhair fern, with her stunning black stems and kelly green matte leaflets fluttering in the slightest breeze, or the dramatic ostrich fern, rising to four feet of bright chartreuse brilliance when its feet are kept wet and its fiddleheads unfurl to their full height, or the magnificent Japanese painted fern, which lives up to and beyond its name with some spectacular foliage that looks positively-painted-on by some genius alchemist of color, our fern collection is a way of keeping things cool when summer heat threatens to overwhelm.
In certain summer situations, simply arming the landscape with scenes of serenity can create the illusion of calm that ultimately lends a cooling effect to those present. That’s the real power of the fern, and we have it in plenty.
