"For my own part, I am trying to make a grey, green, and white garden. This is an experiment which I ardently hope may be successful, though I doubt it. One’s best ideas seldom play up in practice to one’s expectations, especially in gardening, where everything looks so well on paper and in the catalogues, but fails so lamentably in fulfillment after you have tucked your plans into the soil. Still, one hopes."
-- Vita Sackville-West. from In Your Garden, 1951
When I first heard about an all white garden, I thought it sounded boring. What about the reds? The violets? What about oranges and pinks? But the more I thought about it, the more the idea appealed to me--especially since the white flowers can be enjoyed at night. I quickly realized, as Vita Sackville-West did, that the garden is not all white, but white and green and gray. I've long loved white roses and white lilacs. As I began to notice more white blossoms, I began to prefer them--even though I am very much a colorist and have been all my life. Still, appreciating the elegance of white flowers, I began opting for whites, beginning with creamy miniature roses and milk white petunias. I liked them so much that I moved on to white dianthus and white pansies. When it came time to choose bulbs, even though the colors delight me, I selected all whites.
Which is not to say this current obsession will last. But in the event that I shift into colors, the whites will always have a place.
In light, of course, white includes all colors of the spectrum. In paint, white is the absence of color.
Here are some images of the white blooms. I'm in the market for a white bleeding heart. And my current regret is that I found out about white ice plant only after I'd purchased a flat of the yellow.
Photos by Quincy Benton


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