I remember the first time I saw Hydrangea paniculata. There was this giant bush across the road from a house I was staying in for a few months. I loved that it was blooming in the heat of late summer when other flowers were waning, completely un-flustered by the humidity . The little golden pink flecks that developed on the sepals as the flower spikes matured were magical. I was smitten. I’m a bit ashamed to say now what I did to that poor bush. I molested it at dusk one August evening. I sprinted, arms laden with blooms and a rusty pair of clippers, between the bush and my porch, anxious that anyone would see me since I didn’t know exactly whose bush it was in the first place. I vowed that evening to make sure I planted H. paniculata with abandon when I had land of my own.
And so I did. There are 35 bushes on the farm currently, with plans for another 20 soon.
This week was the first these beauties were ready to harvest this season. They absolutely served as the inspiration for my Seasonal Bouquet. Their textural little white bead-buds and airy blooms are so feminine and romantic. The dark, yet still a bit golden, leaves of the ninebark were the perfect foil for the hydrangea, allowing their texture to “pop”. The bronze fennel was a fragrant lacey filler. White lisianthus and feverfew fill in the voids. A lone dahlia stands as a sentry, awaiting its kinsfolk who have fallen behind in the summer storms. An antique gold pitcher and a pair of candlesticks completed the gilded scene.
Every week as I design my Seasonal Bouquet entries, I am noticing how anxious I am for autumn. I am surrounded by colorful, happy summer blooms, like zinnias, sunflowers, celosia, gomphrena, and ageratum. An absolute rainbow is before me every day in the harvest buckets. They would combine to make the most quintessential of summer bouquets. And yet, I have zero interest in them. I did toy briefly with the idea of a monochomatic design this week of all sunflowers, tansy, and celosia. Then I remembered I rather dislike yellow.
It’s been a trying season, more so than usual (and, yes, every season feels “trying” by the time August rolls around). For the first time ever, I am eager for frost. I point this out, not for pity, but only to say: while this bouquet was indeed made with blooms all in-season and grown at my farm, it is not exactly “seasonal” in its theme. It smacks of cooler autumn breezes and a shortening of days. Do you mind?
Absolutely beautiful how timeless. How do you condition your hydrangea?
Thanks, Kathleen! I harvest my hydrangeas when they are nicely mature so they don’t wilt nearly as easily. Harvesting early in the morning, slicing the stem in half about an inch at the bottom, and placing immediately in a bucket full of cool water will also help keep them perky.
Jennie,
Have you ever tried to dry these blooms?
Bobbie — do you mean the entire bouquet or just the hydrangea? Most of what’s in this particular arrangement would not dry well. However, the hydrangea dry wonderfully and I’ve made wreaths out of them in the past that have lasted for years.
So this is a really old post, but I’m trying to get some lovely varieties of h. paniculata like this with the small vs large florets lacecap type blooms. What variety is in this picture? Thank you if you read this comment 6+ years later!
Happy to help! This particular variety isn’t a variety at all, but rather just the straight species of Hydrangea paniculata. What’s great about using the straight species is that you can take cuttings from your own bushes and easily propagate many more plants for free!