Desert Island Plants

Today's Gladiolus - an unknown variety because it was a freebie

JAS set a delightful, though very challenging poser a couple of days ago over at Blogging from Blackpitts:

I have a question for you. (Credit for this goes to my wife, Celestria)

Imagine, if you would, that one sunny morning you were suddenly plucked from your existing garden and plonked into a new one. The transfer was so unexpected (perhaps like this) and so swift that you were only able to take six plants from your existing garden.

So. The question is which six plants would you choose ? Do you go for something big - a favourite cherry or a noble oak? maybe an evergreen to liven up your winter. A rose planted to commemorate an anniversary, a herb without which your cooking would be bland or maybe just a piece of herbaceous fluff which stirs the soul ? Remember these will be the only six plants that you are allowed: your new garden has no access to any nurseries or garden centres.

What will you choose ?
James of course has already supplied his answer. And so have quite a few others - very good ones, I urge you to take a look. I've provided my answer too - and like most of the others it's been a struggle to select just six. The list has changed many times and I've had a few arguments with myself. We had 20 people over for curry the other night and as I was showing them round the garden (yes, between the inevitable showers), I told them about James' post and they'd pick out a plant and say 'Well, you must include this one' (Fuchsia 'Garden News'), or 'That's lovely' (Dicksonia antarctica), until the list was as long as the garden's planting plan again.

So, what's my list? Well, the published version (for now and extended from my comment over at Blackpitts) is:

Snowdrops - because they give so much hope in the dark depths of winter. Plus they're the only plant I bother to count to make sure they're on the increase in mine and the guerilla garden next door. But then I haven't included sunshiny yellow daffodils, nor the alliums, such as A. schubertii, whose firework presence in my front garden makes me giggle every May/June. And what about the Dahlias...

My mystery Clematis - she's such a floosie and the only plant that's stayed on my list throughout. I'll post about her in more detail later.

Heuchera 'Licorice' - all year interest and contrasts wonderfully with the snowdrops. Ah, but have I picked the right one? But then there's my lovely new Brunnera 'Jack Frost' to consider.

Echinacea - bees love it and it's so well behaved. But what about the Monarda across the way, or the Helianthus, the Erysimum that flowers non-stop for 12 months, the ...???

Lavender 'Hidcote'- for the Echinacea to float over and because its oil is so precious: 'First Aid in a Bottle'. But then the Echinacea also floats over a nice planting of Sedum 'Autumn Joy', or if I'm going for something that's useful, what about any of the herbs I use for both culinary use and ornamental effect?

Golden Fastigate Yew - representing my 'future garden'. I feel like ripping out pretty much all of my plants at the moment - I consider the current planting to be my 'learning garden': the relatively easy plants I've used to begin to understand what planting and year round colour and interest is all about. Now I feel ready to try something a little more choice and unusual, so I bought my Yew last year to start the process. The rest (and the potential for a completely new list of six) is about to follow...

Now I have to say my other plants are in a bit of a sulk. My Acer's in particular's going 'Oi, I'm your oldest plant (bought 25 years ago) - I've followed you round all of your houses, of course you must pick me!' And then there's the topiary box balls I've trained myself (which I could also take cuttings from to make a lovely wavy hedge like James's); the Himalayan silver birch where I hang the bird feeders; my bay tree - I'd love to train one properly into one of those twisty trunk styles - aargghh, I can't cope!

And my Eryngiums (planted to remind me of the time I saw them in the wild in Greece, where their steely blue stems stopped me in my tracks) are so disgusted, they've invaded the lawn in protest. And I tend to fall in love with my plants all over again just as they come into their season - so my list would be different every single month. Well, about every six minutes at the moment.

Then there's a six from my allotment to consider (just as an added extra for my own fun) - but I think that's for another time.

What would your choice be? Tell me - and James!