Welcome!
by Grace Whitfeld
Inspired by W. C. Egan’s “Plant Combinations” ()
Some gardens feel scattered — a little bloom here, a little bloom there — while others feel like a story unfolding. The difference often comes down to pairing: choosing plants that complement one another in timing, texture, height, and habit.
W. C. Egan, writing in 1912, had a remarkable eye for these relationships. His plant combinations weren’t just pretty; they were practical, solving real problems like fading foliage, awkward gaps, and short bloom windows. And his wisdom still holds true today.
This expanded post brings his best combinations forward — with modern clarity, gentle storytelling, and the grounded, seasonal rhythm of ranch life.
A perennial garden is a living tapestry. When plants are paired thoughtfully, they:
Extend the bloom season
Hide fading or ragged foliage
Create height and depth
Add rhythm and repetition
Make the garden feel intentional, not accidental
Egan understood that a garden isn’t just a collection of plants — it’s a conversation between them.
Peonies are generous spring bloomers, but once their flowers fade, their foliage becomes a quiet green mound. Egan suggests planting Lilium superbum, late gladiolus varieties, or Hyacinth candicans between peonies ().
Why it works:
Peonies bloom early; lilies and gladiolus bloom later
The lilies rise above the peony foliage without crowding it
The peony leaves hide the bare lower stems of the lilies
The bed stays full and beautiful from May through August
This is succession planting at its best — one plant stepping back just as another steps forward.
This pairing is one of Egan’s most elegant ().
Campanula carpatica stays low and green, only 8 inches tall
Dodecatheon media (shooting star) rises early, blooms, and disappears
Why it works:
In spring, the shooting stars bloom above nearly invisible campanula foliage
In summer, the campanula fills the space the shooting stars vacate
There is no awkward gap, no bare patch, no “what happened here?” moment
It’s a perfect example of plants sharing the same square foot of soil without ever competing.
This combination is pure poetry.
Egan describes planting Mertensia virginica (Virginia bluebells) under large forsythia shrubs ().
Why it works:
Both bloom at the same time
The bluebells’ pink buds and blue flowers glow beneath the golden forsythia
When the bluebells die back (as they always do), the forsythia’s foliage hides the empty space
This is one of the most beautiful early‑spring pairings you can create — a fleeting moment of color harmony that feels like a gift.
Some perennials are glorious in bloom… and a mess afterward.
Egan calls out two in particular:
Bleeding heart (Dicentra)
Perennial poppy (Papaver orientale)
Their foliage becomes ragged, yellow, and floppy after flowering. His solution is simple and brilliant ():
Plant tall asters or Rudbeckia triloba behind or around them
Why it works:
The tall plants leaf out just as the bleeding heart and poppy foliage collapses
They hide the mess completely
They provide late‑summer and fall bloom, extending the season
This is one of the most practical pairings in the entire book — a kindness to both the plants and the gardener.
Egan devotes special praise to Dictamnus fraxinella, the gas plant ().
Why he loves it:
It is long‑lived — some families still enjoy plants set by great‑grandmothers
It forms a dense, glossy, dark‑green hedge
It blooms with tall spikes of pink or white flowers
It stays neat and formal without pruning
He recommends planting them 12 inches apart to form a low hedge along a walk or formal line.
Because gas plant grows slowly, he suggests filling the space temporarily with:
Low annuals
Spring bulbs
Sweet alyssum
This creates a full, finished look while the hedge matures.
Egan loved combinations that allowed a single bed to bloom twice.
Examples:
Peonies + lilies (spring + summer)
Campanula + shooting stars (spring + summer)
Bulbs + slow‑growing perennials (early spring + summer)
This approach:
Maximizes small spaces
Keeps beds interesting
Reduces bare patches
Creates a sense of abundance
It’s a strategy especially useful for ranch gardens where every bed needs to earn its keep.
Egan offers a design tip that feels surprisingly modern ():
Plant groups in pear‑shaped clusters
Let the narrow end of one group tuck behind the wide end of the next
Why it works:
It avoids stiff, blocky arrangements
It creates a sense of movement
It softens the transition between colors and heights
It mimics how plants grow in the wild
This is a subtle technique, but once you see it, you’ll never go back to straight rows.
Because young perennials don’t fill their space the first year, Egan suggests planting:
Gladiolus
Lilies
Hyacinth candicans
Low annuals
between them ().
This keeps the bed full while the perennials mature — a practical, beautiful way to avoid the “patchy first year” look.
At its core, Egan’s approach to plant combinations is about:
Respecting each plant’s natural rhythm
Using one plant’s strength to support another’s weakness
Creating beauty that lasts beyond a single bloom
Designing with both the eye and the season in mind
A well‑paired garden feels alive — not just in spring, but all year long.
Some gardens bloom like a scattered memory — a little color here, a lonely stem there — while others rise like a story, each plant stepping into the light at just the right moment. Out here in the High Desert, where every inch of soil has to earn its keep, the secret isn’t more plants. It’s better pairings.
More than a century ago, W. C. Egan understood this truth. He saw that a perennial garden is a living tapestry, and that beauty comes not from isolated stars but from relationships — plants chosen for how they speak to one another in timing, texture, height, and habit. His combinations weren’t just pretty; they were practical, solving the quiet problems every gardener knows: fading foliage, awkward gaps, short bloom windows, and beds that feel accidental instead of intentional.
Peonies hand the baton to lilies. Shooting stars rise and vanish while campanula quietly takes their place. Bluebells glow beneath golden forsythia like a springtime painting. Tall asters hide the ragged retreat of poppies and bleeding hearts. Even a humble hedge of gas plant becomes a line of living architecture, steady as a ranch fence.
This is gardening as choreography — a dance of succession, rhythm, and grace. A way of letting one plant step back just as another steps forward. A way of keeping the beds full, the seasons long, and the garden alive from the first thaw to the last frost.
Egan’s wisdom still holds true today, and this article brings it forward with the grounded clarity of ranch life:
pair plants with purpose, and your garden will feel like a story instead of a collection.