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Among the colour trends of the year that spark the imaginations of our most creative gardeners, Dark Academia offers an immersion into garnet, purples, crimsons and plum, edging toward an almost-black depth. These bold, dark tones originate from a baroque aesthetic, that of the hushed and mysterious world of old libraries and the hit series Wednesday.
In the garden, adopting such a romantic and melancholic palette requires a neat setting and scenes with subtle harmonies to soften the sombre colour and the intensity of the blooms and foliage.
Here are three borders imagined for you with this new trend in mind, updated for today!

associer couleurs foncées au jardin
"Dark Academia", colours drawing their inspiration from the intimate cocoon of libraries

How to pair it with the garden?

The dark tones, from purple to black, should always be used with great care in plantings. They can overwhelm the eye and, if misused, impart a mood that is too sombre for a garden.

We therefore often pair them with a few neutral, diaphanous touches, drawing from the palette of white, pearly, cream and green blooms, as well as bronzy, greyed foliage. Don’t forget light, ribboned foliage, iridescent or variegated to diffuse the light around the deeper tones.

Some plants are thus particularly useful, especially those that work in a pointillist manner with their inflorescences, such as some grasses and airy perennials or the plush plants. In small doses, they instantly lighten the colour composition of a border.

A naturalistic scene: the poetry of black flowers and wild grasses

Dark-toned flowers can certainly suit a section of the garden treated as a large meadow or flowering border. In this case, favour beautiful wildflowers, such as Scabiosa 'Chile Black', and Cirsium rivulare 'Atropurpureum'. A mass of Penstemon with purplish flowers such as the variety 'Raven' will visually support the border, enriching it with a multitude of blooms right through to frosts.
The perfect accompaniment to temper, without masking, the depth of purple tones will simply come from a few very light grasses such as the Hordeum jubatum, or taller Panicum, or airy fennel. In mild climates, opt without hesitation for the Pennisetum setaceum 'Rubrum'. The presence of statice (Limonium latifolium) with tiny pale mauve flowers softens the scene and brings the essential gentleness to the dark colours.

Dark Academia tendance couleur jardin
Massif naturaliste : the alliance of delicate grasses and dark blooms
Clockwise from top left: Penstemon 'Raven', statice, Scabiosa 'Chile Black', Cirsium rivulare 'Atropurpureum' and Hordeum jubatum

A shrub border between lilac and burgundy

Around two fine shrubs chosen, one for its burgundy flowering with double blossoms—the lilac 'Charles Joly'—the other for its striking heart-shaped foliage, Cercis canadensis 'Forest Pansy', invite a few perennials in the same warm tones, and greyed foliage for softness. In our example, the lightness of the purplish inflorescences of a purple Eupatorium sits beside the delicate lavender-grey of a refined poppy (Papaver rhoeas 'Amazing Grey'), and the utterly graceful verticality of double-flowered hollyhocks 'Chater's Violet'.

Pensée to include some soft, greyed and silvery foliage such as Artemisia ludoviciana (Valerie Finnis) that will thread at the foot of the shrubs, and respond to the romantic colours of the poppies.

N.B. : other shrubs just as spectacular in their purple hues would work brilliantly in this border, such as certain varieties of the famous smoke tree (Cotinus coggygria) and its wispy summer flowering, a black elder, a physocarpus or Magnolia 'Black Tulip' for a poetic spring effect.

tendance couleur Dark Academia transposition jardin
Massif arbustif, with clockwise from top left: poppy 'Amazing Grey', Eupatorium maculatum 'Atropurpureum', Cercis canadensis 'Forest Pansy', lilac 'Charles Joly', and double-flowered hollyhock 'Chater's Double Violet'

Velvety sophistication in partial shade

The two previous moods are envisaged in sunny settings. The purple-to-chocolate hues can also be used in a bright partial shade in the garden. In that case, work on an enveloping ambience, softening the dark impression with discreet touches of chartreuse green, together with pearly and iridescent whites.

The purple flowers of Hellebores will be the stars of this corner, with infinite grace and a very long flowering season, akin to botanical cousins such as Helleborus foetidus and its pistachio flowers. Invest here in a few purple foliage plants, such as Strobilanthes anisophyllus 'Brunetthy', a magnificent almost-black shrub, whose pale pink late-spring flowers contrast nicely, and a groundcover with marbled leaves like Trillium cuneatum and a mass of black Ophiopogons. Finally, for a touch of volume in the scene, use the assets of an oak-leaved hydrangea: distinctive foliage that clings on well into winter, taking crimson autumn tones, and white, anise-scented flowers, ranging from white through pink, in spectacular yet light panicles.

tendance couleur Dark Academia transposition jardin
Border in partial shade with, clockwise from top left: Hellebore, Trillium cuneatum, Strobilanthes anisophyllus 'Brunetthy', Helleborus foetidus, Hydrangea quercifolia and Ophiopogon planiscapus 'Nigrescens'

To refine this baroque ambience, why not insert one or two refined accessories: a latticed frame with a beautiful gilded patina or a mirror to reflect the light, a romantic vintage metal lantern or a statue representing a poet, an angel or a muse? A stone bench will also invite sitting and resting.

dark academia jardin
A few details to enhance the romantic ambience...

Discover our selection of plants in the Dark Academia spirit on our online nursery, as well as inspiration in the Trend Notebook 2026!
Also read on the topic: How to combine black-flowered perennials? ; 6 border ideas for a red/purple garden, Purple foliage: how to use it and pair it in the garden, and Pairing red or purple flowers.

Among the colour trends of the year that spark the imaginations of our most creative gardeners, Dark Academia offers an immersion into garnet, purples, crimsons and plum, edging toward an almost-black depth. These bold, dark tones originate from a baroque aesthetic, that of the hushed and mysterious world of old libraries and the hit series […]

Honestly, aren’t you fed up with being overwhelmed by apple harvests so abundant that even your neighbours won’t answer the door? If the thought of baking yet another homemade pie with your own plums gives you the cold sweats, it’s high time to take control of your garden by learning the delicate art of horticultural sabotage. This guide promises to turn any vigorous pear tree into a heap of dead, pathetic wood in just three radical steps.

Of course, for those with a mischievous streak who would truly like to fill their baskets, simply take this manual at face value in reverse and do exactly the opposite of our advice.

Choose the worst possible moment!

The secret to a scorching failure lies primarily in your timing: if you prune at the right moment, you risk strengthening the tree, which would be a total failure for our mission. For a sabotaged outcome, aim for the full sap rise, ideally when the tree is in bloom; not only is it very stylish to see petals fall like snow under your pruning cuts, but it also guarantees the tree will exhaust its precious reserves for nothing.

If you miss the spring window, switch to the “Thermal Shock” technique: wait for a polar frost night, around -10°C, to bring out your tools. By exposing the tree’s tissues to extreme cold, you prevent any healing and allow the frost to burst the wood’s cells, creating magnificent permanent necroses.

Finally, to complete the picture, don’t forget the golden rule of moisture: the more it rains, the merrier. Fungal spores and bacteria are poor swimmers, so make their task easier by offering them gaping wounds under a downpour. It’s the free Pass Navigo for all cryptococcal diseases in the neighbourhood that will settle comfortably in your orchard.

Never prune these trees and bushes while it’s freezing.
This is clearly not the right time to prune a fruit tree (AI-generated image).

The real advice

If, by some strange moment of generosity, you wished your trees to survive, note that you generally prune stone fruit trees (apple and pear trees) only during dormancy (winter, but outside frost), and stone fruit trees (cherries, plums) right after harvest to avoid losing too much sap.

Handle your tools with artistic negligence

Once you’ve chosen the worst moment, the goal is to use the most unsuitable tool possible. For an optimal result, forget polished pruning shears and adopt the philosophy of liberating rust. Bring out your grandfather’s old pruning tool, the one that hasn’t seen a sharpening stone since the 1998 World Cup: if the blade is so blunt that it doesn’t cut but merely crush the fibres of the wood, you’re on the right track. A crushed branch is a branch that never wounds over, providing unlimited play for bacteria.

In a spirit of generosity, also share the diseases. Why confine a pretty canker or grey rot to a single apple tree when you can spread it across the whole orchard? By stubbornly refusing to disinfect your blades between trees, you become the vector of a wonderful community of parasites. It’s the “all-you-can-eat” buffet principle: what tree A has, tree B will receive for free simply by contact with your dirty blade.

Finally, give free rein to your creativity with the “Free Style” about the cutting angle. Ignoring the bevel rule is an excellent way to create tiny stagnant pools on each cut. Cut straight or, better, toward the bud, and you’ll turn every wound into a tiny personal water trough for fungi and wood-destroying insects. After all, why let water flow out naturally when you can invite it to settle in and rot the wood from within?

Never use a dirty and rusty pruning tool.
This pruning tool deserves a good sharpening and a thorough clean. Perhaps retirement... (AI-generated image)

The real advice

Those who care about their fruit will tell you that a cutting tool should be razor-sharp for a clean cut and disinfected with 70% alcohol between each cut. They also recommend always cutting on a bias (about 45°), away from the bud, so rain runs off from the sensitive area.

Practice the “Chainsaw Massacre” pruning

This is where your misunderstood artist’s soul comes into play. To transform a fruit tree into an abstract, sterile sculpture, forget delicacy.

Start with the radical method of wild topping. Why let that leading shoot rise gracefully toward the sky when you can cut it cleanly two metres from the ground? By cutting the top, you drive the tree into a state of absolute panic: it will respond by producing a forest of vertical shoots (water sprouts) that will drain all its energy without ever bearing a single fruit. Total chaos, and exactly what we’re after.

Continue with the strategy of total darkness. A well-maintained tree often resembles a well of light, but we aim for the ambience of an impenetrable virgin forest. Carefully leave all dead wood and the crossing branches at the centre of the trunk. By preventing air and sunlight from circulating, you create a warm, damp microclimate at the heart of the tree, ideal for cultivating your own colonies of aphids and mosses.

Finally, to perfect your work, practice the systematic removal of the short, stout buds. These small, compact buds are the future fruits, so your sworn enemies. Cut them mercilessly, thinking they are useless outgrowths. Conversely, keep the long, smooth vertical shoots that reach up toward the clouds: they are beautiful, consume all the sap and have the wonderful trait of never bearing fruit.

A gentle and well-considered pruning is essential to keep fruit trees healthy.
That’s what a very badly pruned fruit tree could look like. (AI-generated image)

The real advice

Those who prize their fruit will tell you that a pruning tool should be razor-sharp for a clean cut and disinfected with 70% alcohol between each cut. They also recommend always cutting on a bias (about 45°), away from the bud, so rainwater runs off from the sensitive area.

Practise the “Chainsaw Massacre” pruning

This is where your misunderstood artist's soul comes into play. To transform a fruit tree into an abstract, sterile sculpture, forget delicacy.

Start with the radical method of wild topping. Why let that leading shoot rise harmoniously toward the sky when you can cut it cleanly two metres from the ground? By cutting the top, you force the tree into a state of absolute panic: it will respond by producing a forest of vertical shoots (water sprouts) that will sap all its energy and never bear a single apple. Total chaos, and exactly what we’re after.

Proceed with the strategy of total darkness. A well-kept tree often resembles a well of light, but we aim for the atmosphere of a “virgin forest” impenetrable. Leave all the deadwood and crossing branches in the centre of the trunk. By preventing air and sunlight from circulating, you create a warm, damp microclimate at the heart of the tree, ideal for cultivating your own colonies of aphids and mosses.

Finally, to perfect your creation, practise the systematic removal of the short, stout buds. These little buds are the future fruits, so your sworn enemies. Cut them mercilessly, imagining they are useless outgrowths. Conversely, keep the long, smooth vertical shoots that reach toward the clouds: they are beautiful, consume all the sap and have the wonderful trait of never, ever bearing fruit.

A gentle and well-considered pruning is essential to keep fruit trees healthy.
That’s what a very badly pruned fruit tree could look like. (AI-generated image)

The real advice

For those who favour harvests over disasters: a good prune consists of thinning the centre to let light through and promoting horizontal branches (the ones that bear fruit). We aim to preserve fruit buds (the dards) while limiting the vigour of vertical suckers.

Tableau comparatif : le vrai vs le faux

Pruning action Sabotage objective (the wrong move) Harvest objective (the truth)
Timing In frost (-10°C) or under heavy rain. In dry weather, outside the frost period, during dormancy.
Tool condition Rusty, blunt and full of last year’s sap. Sharp blade (clean cut) and disinfected with alcohol.
Structure Keep a dense centre to create a fungal nest. Air the centre of the tree to let light through (window of day).
Cut angle Straight or inclined toward the bud to retain moisture. On a bias (45°), away from the bud to shed water.
Fate of the suckers Let them grow vertically toward the sky. Remove or bend them to encourage fruiting.

Honestly, aren’t you fed up with being overwhelmed by apple harvests so abundant that even your neighbours won’t answer the door? If the thought of baking yet another homemade pie with your own plums gives you the cold sweats, it’s high time to take control of your garden by learning the delicate art of horticultural […]

Discover exclusively our trends notebook for Garden trends 2026 identified by our experts! Green Generation, Retro Garden or Augmented Garden, we reveal the five emerging currents that reinvent garden practices and the imaginations of the garden. Based on this monitoring, Promesse de fleurs shares its forward-looking reading and field observations of the garden of tomorrow.

Green Generation

The Millennials: a new plant tribe born on Instagram! They are aged 28 to 44, often live in cities, and have made houseplants a lifestyle. Houseplants—Ficus lyrata, Calathea, Alocasia, Colocasia, and Monstera—have become icons, iconic design pieces and organic accents. The greenery here becomes emotional, identity-driven and graphic. This green frenzy is ultra-connected, Instagrammable, viral, but deeply emotional. We speak of "Plant Parenting": 33% of Millennials talk to their plants, 19% give them a name, 29% regard them as sentient beings. We collect spectacular foliage (Monstera 'Thai Constellation', Caladium, Begonias 'Rex'), we stage its interior, and we share its urban jungle on TikTok (#planttok) or Instagram (#urbanjungle, 8 million posts).

Garden trend 2026 - Green Generation, indoor plants

Jardin Nostalgique

Here is a decidedly retro and comforting gardening trend! In the face of world uncertainties, and at a time when AI is generating artificial universes, the garden embraces a nostalgic vogue that expresses this deep longing for reassurance and tenderness. We sow, we take cuttings, we glean and compose home-made bouquets. The retro flower gets a second life. Double ranunculus, gladioli but especially dahlias (+12% in sales) and peonies (+37%) at Promesse de fleurs, which explode on social networks, are the star flowers of this vintage wave. The enthusiasm for seeds drives a revival of cut flowers for bouquets, direct from the garden to the vase! Statice, Helichrysum (Immortelle), Leucanthemum (Oxeye Daisies), and Silene, are already part of our collection of more than 1,500 varieties of flower seeds.

Garden trend 2026 - Nostalgic and vintage garden

Évasions Nomades

The garden becomes itinerant, multicultural, adaptable, a mirror of a world in motion. 42% of recent landscape projects directly draw inspiration from distant cultures. They combine a dream of elsewhere with climate-consciousness, are nomadic in their evocations, resilient in their choices and economical in their use of water. Sales of hardy succulents have risen by 45% in Europe since 2023, a sign that these plants from elsewhere resonate with local concerns. Among the identified trends:

  • Balinese Garden: tropical luxuriance, and sacred lotuses (85k posts #lotusgarden) inspired by the tropical sanctuaries of Southeast Asia.
  • Antipodes Garden: euphorbias, crassulas, aloes or senecios pushed to the extremes evoke the landscapes of southern Africa.
  • Chaparral Garden: Dasylirion longissimum, Echinocactus grusonii, Mexican blue palm, Opuntia cacanapa 'Ellisiana'... The specimens from semi-desert regions of California or Mexico sketch a graphic, solar and radically frugal garden.
  • Sandy Garden: on 20 cm of pure sand, Gypsophila 'Rosea', Blue Fescue, Lomandra 'White Sands', Silver Santolina or Sage 'Caradonna' compose open scenes, without watering or fertilisers. Inspired by Peter Korn and climate-resilient gardens, this new generation dry garden blends lightness, robustness and modernity.
Garden trend 2026 - Nomadic Escapes, exotic plants

Jardin Refuge

In an age of hyperconnectivity, the garden becomes an emotional refuge, an open-air cocoon where we slow down, wrap ourselves in comfort and breathe.

Garden trend 2026 - Refuge garden, soothing

Jardin Augmenté

The garden enters the era of assisted gardening: tutorials, apps, connected devices, AI… Wireless tools are becoming common, mini-greenhouses are taking root in cities, and social networks popularise the practices. Uninhibited, autonomous, the garden appeals to a new urban generation. 40% of urban households already have an intelligent device. Our podcast Branché au jardin has 18,000 listens, and our Plantfit app 80,000 users.

Garden trend 2026 - Augmented and connected garden

Couleurs 2026

Emotional hues, ranging from mineral freshness to dark romance and pastel dreams.

  • Transformative Teal: between muted blue and aquatic green, this refined, mineral shade asserts itself as the colour of 2026. It evokes deep waters and is embodied in Eucalyptus 'Baby Blue', Agave americana, Senecio serpens 'Dwarf Blue', and Dasylirion glaucophyllum.
  • Cloud Dancer: a misty, resting, almost silent white, Pantone’s colour of the year. Chromatic antidotes to saturation, Agapanthus 'Ever White', Hydrangea 'FlowerWOW', Iris 'Glacier' and Clematis 'Guernsey Flute' soothe the eye.
  • Dark Academia: a dramatic romanticism with Victorian overtones. Purple blooms, garnets, misty purples and wine-toned foliage craft a dark and sophisticated mood. Dianthus 'Sooty', Rosa 'Charles de Mills', Poppy 'Lauren’s Grape' and Lupin 'Masterpiece' embody this poetic gloom.
  • Unicorn: a pastel iridescent breath, at the edge of the digital dream. Apricot sorbet, frosted lavender, pale blue or vanilla yellow compose a dreamy and playfully quirky garden populated with Sweet William Lychnis 'Classic Apricot', Delphinium 'Misty Lavender', and Rosa 'Koko Loko'.
Garden trend 2026 - Cloud Dancer, wispy white

Discover exclusively our trends notebook for Garden trends 2026 identified by our experts! Green Generation, Retro Garden or Augmented Garden, we reveal the five emerging currents that reinvent garden practices and the imaginations of the garden. Based on this monitoring, Promesse de fleurs shares its forward-looking reading and field observations of the garden of tomorrow. […]

You dream of a lush vegetable garden on your balcony or terrace, but achieving success seems far too conventional? Why aiming for abundant harvests when you could join the prestigious circle of "frustration growers"?

In this article, we present to you 6 foolproof tips for failing at your container garden. These 100% absurd tips will transform your balcony into a joyful botanical disaster. Of course, if you do the exact opposite, you might just harvest vegetables worthy of a Michelin-starred chef... but where's the fun in that?

Take notes and get ready to turn your balcony or terrace into a true laboratory of improbable and memorable gardening experiments!

Lesson 1: Choose your plants poorly!

Basil, strawberries, leeks, cacti... Plant everything you can find, regardless of whether these plants prefer shade, full sun, or even an arid desert. After all, a cactus and a lettuce are pretty much the same thing, right?

Don't stop there: completely ignore care sheets or seed labels. Seasons? A lazy gardener's invention. So, plant your tomatoes in the middle of December for guaranteed dramatic effect, and why not some radishes in the height of summer? It will add a lovely touch of unpredictability to your balcony.

Bonus tip: if a plant doesn't grow, blame the wind or your neighbours. After all, why should it be your fault?

The real advice: choose plants suited to your space, exposure (sun or shade), and the season. Herbs like basil or parsley are perfect for beginners!

Some cherry tomato plants growing in a container on a terrace.
Some cherry tomato plants can already be productive, even in a container.

Lesson 2: Water blindly, or better yet, not at all!

Gardening is complicated enough, so why bother with thoughtful watering? Opt for the "Russian roulette of watering" method. One day, drown your plants in a spa-worthy bath (or a municipal pool), and then let them ponder their thirst for three weeks. Plants love these emotional rollercoasters... well, in theory.

Be creative: a blast of cold water at dawn, a day where you completely forget their existence, and a light mist of lukewarm water just before a heatwave. It's a great way to test their resilience... and your patience.

Bonus tip to perfect this method: don't bother learning the specific needs of each plant. A succulent and a basil plant? Same battle! Don't all plants have the same taste for water? (Spoiler: no, not at all.)

The real advice: consistency is key. Adjust watering to the needs of each plant. And a small watering can with a fine spout is better than your neighbour's hose.

Lesson 3: Completely ignore container size

Disregard container size! Do you have a lovely mint plant? Plant it in a tiny pot, ideally the size of a thimble. After all, why give it room to thrive when you can force it to become a minimalist artist? In contrast, your strawberry plant deserves to dream big: put it in a giant container designed for a palm tree. After all, it needs to compensate for its limited growth ambitions.

Consistency? Too boring. Logic? The sworn enemy of fun! Imagine carrots in a gratin dish or tomatoes in a bonsai planter. Nothing like surprising your plants (and their root systems). At least you'll be sure your garden looks like no other.

Bonus tip: don't bother with drainage holes or suitable materials. Who said plants needed well-aerated soil? Aim for originality, and let your plants live their best (and last?) life.

The real advice: plants need space to grow. Choose suitable containers and think about drainage (hello, small stones or clay balls at the bottom!).

A small container garden on a balcony.
Optimise space with suitable containers and plants.

Lesson 4: Use the most dubious soil possible

Do you really want to be original? Forget the classic potting soil, far too mainstream. Instead of investing in a rich, suitable substrate, go on an adventure and collect unexpected treasures: construction sand found on the sidewalk, dusty soil gathered during your last mountain trek, or rubble salvaged from an alley. It's a true ode to diversity... or at least, to improvisation.

The idea is simple: the more sterile, compact, and hostile the mix, the better! Why settle for nutrient-rich soil when your vegetables can experience extreme survival? You could even spice up the experience by adding a bit of gravel to remind them of the joys of a stony desert.

And above all, don't forget to proclaim your love for innovation loudly: "Here, we plant boldly, not scientifically!" Sure, your plants might wonder why they are condemned to grow in soil that could just as well be used to build a highway. But isn't that the essence of experimentation?

The real advice: good potting soil is essential for a container garden. Invest in a special potting soil or enrich it with compost.

Lesson 5: Let Mother Nature do all the work

Once your seeds are carefully sown (or randomly thrown, let's be honest), take a deep breath and solemnly declare: "From now on, it's you and me, universe!" Then, proudly walk away from your plants and let them face their fate. Why waste your time checking on their condition? After all, they are plants; they know how to grow on their own, right? (Spoiler: no, not at all.)

No need to water them regularly, monitor if weeds are choking them, or check if insects are nibbling their leaves. All of that is detail! Plants are big and strong; they will manage without your help, just like in the wild. What you might forget is that a balcony or terrace has little in common with a lush jungle where ecosystems self-regulate. Here, if you do nothing, your plants will do exactly the same: nothing at all... except die.

Bonus tip: to perfect this "zero maintenance" method, completely ignore signs of distress. A plant that is yellowing, wilting, or seems to be crying for help? Look away with a stoic expression. It's a life lesson for them and a great opportunity for you to practice emotional detachment.

The real advice: a garden, even on a balcony, requires a minimum of maintenance. Remove dead leaves, watch for pests, and give a little love to your plants.

Lesson 6: Ignore space requirements

Why limit yourself to reality? In your mind, your 2-square-metre balcony is probably as vast as the plains of the Midwest. So go wild: plan for ten tomato plants, three courgettes, a row of strawberries, and while you're at it, a cherry tree. It doesn't matter that your space is more suited to a camping chair than a budding farm.

Be bold: stack your pots, layer your planters, and why not hang containers from the ceiling (never mind if you can no longer open the door). Did you dream of an abundant garden? Just play Tetris with your plants. Sure, your plants will have to fight for every inch of sun or air, but isn't that how the greatest champions are born?

Bonus tip: completely forget that a courgette needs plenty of space to spread out. Plant it in a small pot wedged between a geranium and a basil plant. Watch the chaos: the leaves will wrap around the other plants, and it will be a true botanical battlefield on your terrace.

The real advice: think about the space needed for each plant and how they grow. Opt for a few well-spaced crops suited to your balcony or terrace rather than a true plant traffic jam!

You dream of a lush vegetable garden on your balcony or terrace, but achieving success seems far too conventional? Why aiming for abundant harvests when you could join the prestigious circle of “frustration growers”? In this article, we present to you 6 foolproof tips for failing at your container garden. These 100% absurd tips will […]

At the end of each year, it's an opportunity to reflect on the favourite plants of the editorial team, those that have marked our gardens, terraces, and interiors with their beauty, originality, or ease of cultivation. Behind each favourite, there is a gardener's story, a meeting with a plant that has found its place and transformed a patch of greenery into a true source of inspiration.

In this article, the editorial team shares its top plant picks for 2025, from characterful trees and shrubs to floriferous perennials, not forgetting the graphic houseplants and lesser-known species that deserve to be recognised. This selection is guided by a passion for gardening, a desire to share useful tips, and to help you find the plant that will make your heart race.

Ingrid: the Cercis canadensis 'Ruby Falls'

This year, my choice is the Cercis canadensis 'Ruby Falls', a dwarf weeping redbud that offers a poetic presence in my bordering terrace bed. Planted in partial shade, it boasts heart-shaped leaves of a deep purple mixed with green, which seem to cascade along its drooping branches. In spring, its violet-pink flowers emerge on the still bare wood, bringing unexpected colour before the young red leaves unfurl. In autumn, this foliage takes on bronze and copper hues before falling.

I particularly love the contrast of its purple foliage with that of the surrounding plants, especially the bright green and violet-blue flowers of a nearby Hardy geranium 'Rozanne'. Alongside them, my Greater celandine, more spontaneous, naturally brightens the base of the shrub with its light green foliage. A little further away, a Acer palmatum ‘Bloodgood’, with its reddish-brown foliage, echoes the Ruby Falls. This chromatic continuity, from the purple of the Cercis to the darker hue of the maple, gives a gentle coherence to the bed and creates a visual depth where the light catches differently depending on the seasons.

This little Canadian redbud easily finds its place in a garden, thanks to its weeping habit and compact size. Its good hardiness makes it simple to cultivate, as long as the soil retains some moisture in summer. At my place, it quickly integrated into the bed, bringing softness to this part of the garden without ever overshadowing the neighbouring perennials.

photo of Cercis canadensis Ruby Falls, its flowering and foliage

Virginie: the Begonia 'Rex Escargot'

My heart undoubtedly leans towards the Begonia 'Rex Escargot'. What makes it truly special? This variety lives up to its name: each leaf spirals and seems to form a small snail shell, hypnotic and wildly graphic. We love its artistic touch with its unique colour contrasts: a blend of greens, silver, and chocolate.

With its velvety foliage, spiralled patterns, and unprecedented colours, it marks the strong return of indoor begonias, which are increasingly appealing due to their original aesthetics and diverse foliage. Long relegated to grandmothers' balconies or forgotten greenhouses, begonias now rank among the top 5 most sought-after plants for our interiors. Right in line with the major trend of decorative begonias, this variety stands out as a vintage icon brought back to life. Easy to cultivate (as long as you respect its preference for ambient humidity and filtered light), it adapts perfectly to all our interiors.

Olivier: the Hyssopus officinalis

"You, who are very sentimental, will surely appreciate this plant!" And bam! I was handed, without further ado, a clump of earth, from which only a few meagre green shoots emerged. Of course, I knew a bit about hyssop, as I have been passionate about medicinal plants since my studies. Moreover, it held a prominent place in medieval herb gardens. However, in my heavy soil, I remained… sceptical about its future. So, I decided to try it in a large container alongside my other Mediterranean plants, botanical cousins: thyme, sage, rosemary, and lavender.

Hyssopus officinalis is a dwarf undershrub (you can use that as a somewhat original insult), ideal for very sunny spots and dry or calcareous soils. And, in just one season, mine has thrived. I particularly love its flowers, a lovely violet-blue, which bloom from July to September and are highly appreciated by pollinating insects, including butterflies. Known as "sacred herb" by the ancient Greeks, this aromatic plant can reach up to 50 cm in height and has very fragrant leaves. It is cultivated for its medicinal properties (infusion for bronchial issues and digestion) and to flavour various dishes such as salads and soups. In short, if you have a spot left in your herb garden: give hyssop a try!

Sophie: the Westringia fruticosa

I have chosen the Westringia fruticosa, also known as Australian rosemary, as my plant pick for 2025, because it embodies the perfect companion plant, one that simplifies gardening! With its slight resemblance to rosemary, it has that familiar and sunny charm that immediately sets the tone. In my southern garden, amidst gauras, agapanthus, Leucophyllums, and lavender, it has settled in as if it has always belonged there. Its evergreen and silvery foliage captures the light, its naturally well-defined silhouette adds elegance, and its impressive resistance to heat, wind, and drought makes it a reliable choice, as I know it can thrive without any care. It tempers the exuberance of the blooms, highlights the volumes, and its light and delicate flowering brings just the right amount of freshness. What I love is its easy-going nature and its clean and bright appearance all year round.

With its 1 to 1.5 m in height and the same in spread, the Westringia fruticosa easily finds its place in the garden. Its delicate flowering extends from spring to autumn, returning in waves. It withstands light frosts down to -5 °C without flinching, sometimes even more in well-drained soil, making it perfectly suited for southern gardens, sheltered areas, and coastal climates. To thrive sustainably, it primarily requires a well-drained soil, preferably light, poor, and stony, where water never stagnates, an essential condition to preserve its longevity and natural vigour.

Gwenaëlle: the Protea 'Pink Ice'

Every year, when we choose our plant of the year to share with you, I always hesitate, as several plants in my garden could claim a spot on this podium. This year, there’s no hesitation… Drumroll… It’s my Protea 'Pink Ice', brought back from Madeira in 2022, that wins all the votes! The tiny plant I bought at the flower market in Funchal and lovingly planted has seen it all, and it’s the only one of the three plants to have survived. Growing it in a greenhouse and repotting it as it grew, it suffered, two years ago, from my carelessness as a gardener when, in the middle of summer, I forgot to ventilate the greenhouse. As a result, one of the two main branches completely cooked, throwing it somewhat off balance. But, with care, it continued to grow, forming new branches to my great satisfaction. What a surprise it was in September to see three buds appear, slowly but surely transforming into those sublime pink inflorescences I had been patiently waiting for in early November.

Proteas, native to South Africa, are considered delicate plants due to their very low hardiness. Of course, I protect it in winter, wrapping it up and watching it like a hawk. I also only water it with room temperature rainwater and have provided it with an acidic and light substrate. I’m not sure I’ll plant it in the garden for a few more years, in which case I’ll need to find it a particularly sheltered spot. The arrival of these large fluffy flowers is such a spectacle that I recommend it to all gardeners who love exotic plants, as this plant literally transports me elsewhere!

Protea flower

Pascale: the Sedum ‘Thunderhead’

I admit, I was long among the detractors of sedums. Perhaps because these plants always seemed a bit dull and unremarkable in the beds. And then, what’s the point of growing these succulent plants at home, in a region where drought was hardly an issue? Climate change has decided otherwise, and the heatwave has taken its toll on other plants I cherished… Not to mention the numerous cultivars of stonecrop that offer new cultivation perspectives.

The Sedum ‘Thunderhead’ is one of the pleasant surprises. This variety has literally swept away my prejudices about sedums, thanks to its presence and vigour. From spring, its robust dark stems stand proudly, bearing very fleshy bluish-green foliage. But it’s at the end of summer that the magic happens: the dense and enormous flower heads bloom in a deep purplish-red, lasting until early winter. As these flowers, perched on purple stems, are highly melliferous and nectariferous, they attract swarms of pollinators.

And in winter, this sedum continues to put on a show with its dry inflorescences. I’ve even taken a few to enhance a bouquet of dried flowers and herbs. And already, the next spring shoots are emerging from the ground.

Paired with my beloved heucheras, this stonecrop has found its place in my semi-shaded bed. But elsewhere, it could bask in the sun all summer long.


Elisabeth: the Monstera deliciosa, 25 years of cohabitation with my "philo"

Some stories last, enduring through moves, neglect, and trends. The one I’m about to tell is that of my Monstera deliciosa, my big "philo". It’s 25 years old, and it’s a green giant, a delicious monster clinging to the wall of my living room like a reminder of beautiful holidays in Spain.

Embracing its kitsch nature, it’s a bit of a grandmother’s plant, a symbol of the 70s, the spirit of bygone interiors. One might find this Monstera outdated, with its veranda plant look and postcard charm. Yet, it’s precisely this slightly old-fashioned air that makes it endearing. It signifies comfort and nostalgia.
If this houseplant had a CV, the first line would read: "Survival Expert". I forget to water it for three weeks? No problem, it will halt its growth, and that’s that. A bit of drastic pruning in anticipation of a move? It will sulk, but it will recover. It’s the ideal green plant for busy (or lazy) people; I don’t judge, I’ve lived through both.

Despite its 25 springs, "philo" has never deigned to flower. Because yes, this plant is capable of flowering! And even fruiting! Apparently, its fruits are deliciously edible. It might be lacking some geranium fertiliser, or perhaps it sulks because my living room isn’t humid enough, or too warm. Unless it’s just being a diva. It’s a whimsical creature: its leaves, sometimes smooth, sometimes holey like Swiss cheese, tell the story of its moods. Its support, doubled with bamboo and securely fastened to the wall with a battalion of strings, has become an original element of my décor. Over time, the inhabitants of the house hardly notice it anymore. Visitors, however, never miss the opportunity to comment: “But it’s huge!” or “How old is this monster?” And I confess its age with barely concealed pride.

Why do I love it (and why you might adopt it too)? First, because it endures. Even cats can’t really kill it — at least not mine, despite its efforts and persistence. Secondly, because it’s terribly photogenic: its large, cut leaves and vines bring a little bit of South American jungle into the home. And it’s a true conversation starter. “Do you think it will flower one day?” “How do we give it a more classic shape?”… With it, we learn patience; I still hope it will flower.

My Monstera deliciosa is not “just a plant”. It’s a life companion, a silent witness to my troubles, joys, successes, and also my losses. It’s a rock, a stubborn presence you can count on. And that’s precisely why I love it.

Aurélien: the Winecup or Callirhoe involucrata

If you appreciate mallows, lavateras, and other Anisodontea, then you’ll surely fall for their perennial and ground-cover cousin, the winecup (Callirhoe involucrata)!
Far less common in gardens, this Mexican species produces fine creeping stems with deeply lobed leaves, which weave between neighbouring plants without bothering them in the least. It reaches about 60 cm in diameter and 20-30 cm in height. The plant can easily be forgotten until large corollas of saturated fuchsia pink appear throughout the summer. Despite their ultra-vibrant hue, they blend effortlessly, in joyful whimsy, with blues, purples, or grey foliage: shrubby sages, immortelles, and perennial verbenas, or even yuccas will make excellent companions to create a Mediterranean atmosphere or a garden that requires no watering.
Frugal, floriferous, and quite resistant to drought once established, the winecup has many qualities and will thrive in any well-drained soil, preferably calcareous. North of the Loire, a spot in a rock garden or a sloped bed facing south will make it happy, possibly with the addition of some coarse sand or gravel to improve water drainage. In good conditions, it can be expected to withstand, despite its Central American origins, temperatures down to about -12/-15°C. A lovely addition to your borders that you won’t see everywhere!


At the end of each year, it’s an opportunity to reflect on the favourite plants of the editorial team, those that have marked our gardens, terraces, and interiors with their beauty, originality, or ease of cultivation. Behind each favourite, there is a gardener’s story, a meeting with a plant that has found its place and […]

The French jury of the 2025 Saint-Fiacre Prize has made its decision, and its Coup de Cœur goes to 400 Plants You Won't See in Your Neighbour's Garden published by Ulmer. Our friendly colleague Aurélien Davroux presents a work that responds to a growing desire among gardeners: the urge to embrace diversity to transform their garden into a unique, personal, original, and resilient space.

Let’s embrace diversity!

As a reminder, the Saint-Fiacre Prize is a literary award given by horticultural journalists. Since 1971, it has recognised "a work in French addressing themes of gardening, gardens, or the plant world".

Aurélien Davroux's book, "The 400 Plants You Won't See in Your Neighbour's Garden", is a breath of fresh air that invites gardeners to break away from landscape uniformity by exploring less common varieties. Choosing diversity also creates a stronger garden: by varying species, it becomes naturally more resilient to diseases and climate change. Drawing on his experience, this horticultural engineer offers an inspiring and practical guide, encouraging the creation of surprising and ecologically stable gardens.

Although the 400 plants may not be the most common, they are perfectly accessible through specialised nurseries, turning their potential acquisition into a delightful "treasure hunt". The book also stands out for its light and humorous tone — notably illustrated by a hilarious "treatise on neighbourology" — which, combined with the author's botanical expertise, makes this book a true gem.

A few questions to the author

Aurélien Davroux presenting his book at the Saint-Fiacre award ceremony
Aurélien Davroux, the author, delivering a speech at the award ceremony. (CP Anne Gerbeaud - credit X. Gerbeaud)

From the genesis of the book to the award

Receiving the "Coup de Cœur" from the Jury at the 2025 Saint-Fiacre Prize is a recognition of the quality of this work in horticultural publishing. Aurélien Davroux shares his reaction and the origin of this bold editorial idea.

Promesse de fleurs: Were you surprised to be nominated for the Saint-Fiacre Prize, and even more so to receive the Jury's "Coup de Cœur"?

Aurélien Davroux: I knew my book had been promoted by Ulmer, but it was still a lovely surprise and an immense pleasure.

Promesse de fleurs: A work that is both useful and surprising. Where did this original idea come from?

Aurélien Davroux: During discussions between Ulmer and Promesse de Fleurs, an idea was proposed by Pascal Griot, who said: "Why not talk about plants that you can't find at your neighbour's?" (editor's note: the very essence of our online nursery). Ulmer then chose me to write it, and from there, we tried to define the plants we wanted to present and how to organise them into three main parts, then into categories. The book discusses amazing plants, but none that are impossible to find or complicated — except for a few here and there: there has to be something for everyone, even the most passionate! It is certainly the opposite of an elitist book. However, it is also good to explain why we don't see them at our neighbour's: due to conformity, convenience, or ignorance. The average gardener cannot know all the botany and horticultural varieties. But we can present them. That is the purpose of my book.

Humour at the service of botany

Promesse de fleurs: The book also stands out for its light tone. Bringing a touch of humour to a gardening book is not common. Was this an initial intention of yours?

Aurélien Davroux: Very quickly, I had the ambition to introduce a quirky tone. Ulmer actually gave me free rein. The challenge was to integrate humour without risking offending anyone or going overboard. So, I sought a guiding thread to avoid monotony. Upon reflection, I remembered the "Memento for Comic Strip Artists" that Gotlib included in his Rubriques-à-brac, which presented the different archetypes of cartoonists. It made me laugh out loud! That’s why, in all modesty, I drew inspiration from it for my Treatise on Neighbourology: a carousel of neighbour archetypes (and we are all someone's neighbour!). Drawing from my own experiences and those of my friends, I wrote this little treatise, which I placed at the beginning of the book, establishing an analogy between the neighbour and the cultivation of a plant. My second source of absurd inspiration comes from Terry Pratchett, the British author of comic fantasy, who enjoyed adding humorous footnotes.

Why is this Guide to Original Plants an Ideal Gift?

Promesse de fleurs: For the end-of-year holidays, this could make a lovely gift. What are the strengths of your book?

Aurélien Davroux: Are you looking for a plant book that stands out from the ordinary, or do you want to convince a reluctant person who doesn't like encyclopaedias? Why not my book?

Promesse de fleurs: Any new works in preparation?

Aurélien Davroux: Not at the moment, but I am thinking about it.

The 2025 Saint-Fiacre Prize

As a reminder, the prestigious *2025 Saint-Fiacre Prize for adults was awarded to the work The Words of the Art of Gardening by Marie-Hélène Benetière and Alain Le Toquin, published by Delachaux & Niestlé. This prize, which annually honours reference works, confirms the horticultural and educational value of this title. Meanwhile, The Wild Square, by Anne-Hélène Dubray and Sarah Loulendo (Éditions L'agrume), won the Saint-Fiacre Youth Prize for its playful and educational approach.

*Awarded by the French Association of Garden and Horticulture Journalists (AJJH) and supported by Valhor (French interprofessional organisation for horticulture, floristry, and landscaping).

The French jury of the 2025 Saint-Fiacre Prize has made its decision, and its Coup de Cœur goes to 400 Plants You Won’t See in Your Neighbour’s Garden published by Ulmer. Our friendly colleague Aurélien Davroux presents a work that responds to a growing desire among gardeners: the urge to embrace diversity to transform their […]

Have you ever felt that your houseplants improve your well-being and mood? What if we told you that scientific data has shown that indoor plants have effects on stress, mood, attention, and perception of the quality of spaces? This should inspire you to green up your home and office!

A serene woman on a sofa, surrounded by green plants that create a calming atmosphere.

The recognised psychological impact of green plants

The impact of green plants on morale and concentration is now widely recognised. According to several scientific studies, simply caring for or observing indoor plants reduces stress and improves mood. Indeed, the colour green, a symbol of regeneration and balance in chromotherapy (colour therapy), acts as a calming signal for the brain.

But their effect is not limited to colour: repotting a plant, gently watering its soil, or brushing against a velvety leaf activates tactile and olfactory sensations that soothe the nervous system. These simple actions allow for the release of accumulated tension, for example, after a day at work.

By cultivating and caring for these plants, one also develops a sense of responsibility and satisfaction that contributes to emotional balance.

A woman watering her indoor plants

Plants in the office: a source of concentration

A bare office can feel cold or impersonal; adding some foliage changes the perception and truly transforms the atmosphere. A study conducted in the UK and the Netherlands showed that an office adorned with greenery could boost an employee's productivity by about 15%. The observed employees felt more focused, found the air more pleasant, and unconsciously perceived, through these plants, a sign of consideration and care that enhanced their motivation and job satisfaction.

Office employees surrounded by green plants

An aesthetic asset to personalise your rooms

From an aesthetic perspective, indoor green plants bring a living and evolving decorative dimension. Unlike inanimate objects, they change with the seasons, grow, sometimes flower, and introduce a natural dynamic that continually refreshes the space.

Their foliage, whether graphic, variegated, or trailing, plays with light and shadows, adding relief and depth to an interior. They thus transform a too-static decoration into a welcoming and warm space. They structure volumes and enliven neglected corners. For example, a Monstera with spectacular foliage draws the eye, while a Ficus or a Pilea adds a graphic touch.

These plants break the overly rigid lines of furniture and rooms in our interiors, bringing volume and texture contrast that enriches the decoration, thus contributing to a sense of well-being at home.

A small corner with an armchair decorated with plants

Oxygen-producing plants: a real but often overestimated effect

We know that green plants produce oxygen through photosynthesis and absorb carbon dioxide. Moreover, research, such as that conducted by NASA, has shown that some green plants even absorb certain pollutants, notably the peace lily (Spathiphyllum) or Chlorophytum (Spider Plant). However, the amounts of oxygen produced in the scale of a living room or office are actually low compared to the volume of air. A very large number of plants would be needed to achieve a complete renewal of the oxygen in a room.

But that doesn't mean their presence is useless! Indoor plants improve psychological comfort, slightly increase ambient humidity, and promote a more pleasant atmosphere, which indirectly contributes to a sense of freshness and well-being.

Choosing your indoor green plants wisely

For a lasting and harmonious effect, select plants suited to the light levels of each room and the time you can realistically dedicate to them. Here are some examples:

  • In a bright room, a Ficus or an Areca palm (Areca) will thrive and give a tropical look.
  • For less bright corners, a Zamioculcas or a Sansevieria remains decorative without too much maintenance.
  • Ferns and Calathea appreciate a more humid atmosphere. They are perfect for a well-lit bathroom.
  • If you are often away or very busy, an Aloe vera or a Pothos (Epipremnum) will be perfect, as they are low-maintenance in terms of watering and care. In contrast, a Calathea, a Boston fern, or an Orchid requires regular attention.

Tip: Also consider the style of your interior and the size of the plants to create a balanced ensemble.

A woman watering her indoor plants

Creating a refreshing ambience with plants

The arrangement of plants also plays a role in their aesthetic and soothing effect. Varying heights, combining pots made of wood, terracotta, or metal (or according to your interior decor), and associating foliage with different shapes adds relief. Placing a large specimen near a window, a small pot on a shelf, or a hanging plant from the ceiling creates an impression of naturalness and movement. Caring for these plants becomes a relaxing routine that helps slow down and savour your environment.

Integrating indoor plants is therefore an effective way to enhance creativity, concentration, and quality of life on a daily basis.

Have you ever felt that your houseplants improve your well-being and mood? What if we told you that scientific data has shown that indoor plants have effects on stress, mood, attention, and perception of the quality of spaces? This should inspire you to green up your home and office! The recognised psychological impact of green […]

Each late summer brings its share of bulbs for spring colour, to irresistibly brighten our gardens. At this time of year we are often busy seeking the gems among these essential bulbs that will, in turn, lift us out of winter torpor in a few months. Our teams set out each year in search of new arrivals to appeal to the most discerning among you, from frilled tulips to charming early bulbs.
Here are some spring bulbs entering the Promesse de fleurs catalogue this season. Rare tulips, hardy irises, black hyacinths… Discover the 7 spring bulbs to plant this autumn with our tips on how to pair them harmoniously.

Tulipa viridiflora 'Blushing Artist': a play of light with pastel notes

Belonging to the large viridiflora family, these beautiful green-flamed tulips, 'Blushing Artist', are among its finest representatives! Not only does it stand out for its pastel colours, combining cream, pink and green in striations, but it also bears variegated leaves edged with cream, of interest in borders or for collectors.
This elegant fluted tulip grows to about 40 cm tall, which predisposes it equally to border plantings, pot culture or a long border. It flowers well in partial shade as in sun, but partial shade enhances its pale colours even more, and it is considered a late tulip, blooming in early May.

We recommend it either for mass planting in an attractive pot display where the delicacy of its hues will strike a chord, or paired with another 'flamed' tulip such as 'Spring Green', or in a border with perennials like Lunaria annua 'Alba'.

viridiflora tulips
Tulipa viridiflora 'Blushing Artist', Solomon's Seal and white honesty


Read also: Tulipa viridiflora : the most popular.

Hyacinth 'Midnight Sky': a captivating darkness

Hyacinths lovers and fans of unusual flowering will not be disappointed by this variety, one of the darkest in the genus. 'Midnight Sky' certainly lives up to its name, intriguing with violet hues on the edge of black. It also has the particularity of being fairly resistant to rodents, and releases a subtle, sweet fragrance, especially in the late afternoon sun.

It prefers humus-bearing soils, well-drained, and a full sun or partial shade exposure. It can also be forced indoors to flower as early as February.

We find it stunning in a large container on a terrace or balcony, paired with a few other bulbs in fresh, bright tones that contrast nicely, such as early mini daffodils with yellow centres, like 'Sun Disc' or Topolino, and tri-colour pansies, creating a violet and pale butter-yellow two-tone display.

jacinthe noire foncee
Hyacinth 'Midnight Sky', Narcissus Topolino and Viola tricolor

Tecophilaea cyanocrocusvar. Leichtlinii: the blue crocus, jewel of sun-drenched rockeries

Also known as the blue crocus of Chile, here is a neat little bulb that we love! Tecophilaea cyanocrocus is a small crocus perfectly suited to dry, sun-drenched rockeries. Growing to a maximum height of 10 cm, it forms pretty tufts and displays its charming sky-blue flowers with a strongly marked white throat, on slender blue-green linear foliage.

A must for this spring bulb: perfectly drained soil, or it will rot. Note that the blue crocus of Chile dislikes scorching summers or temperatures that are too cold (it will still tolerate down to -5°C under good cultivation conditions) and is among bulbs reserved for experienced gardeners.

For its early-season flowering, between February and March, it will enliven a rock garden of alpine type or a scree garden, or join a stone trough, surrounded by sedums and Pulsatilla that will take over, followed in turn by the deep blue bloom of Alpine aquilegia.

Read also: 6 bulbs easy to naturalise.

tecophilaea
Blue crocus, Sedum compressum and Alpine Aquilegia

Allium cernuum 'White Dwarf': a wild charm for natural borders

What a delightful crowd-pleaser with this pendulous ornamental onion! Here is the white version of Allium cernuum, an onion with a similarly pendulous head, which adds to its charm, much like its Bulgaria-loving cousin.

Emerging with its foliage in spring, it is in summer that the Allium cernuum 'White Dwarf' rewards us with its small, white, pendant umbels on curved stems for many weeks. This pure white bloom, formed by around twenty small flowers, is also melliferous.

Adopt this original and compact ornamental onion if you want to fill gaps in natural, English-style, or cottage-style borders. It will be perfectly complemented by a handful of taller Galtonias, scabious and Allium millenium, in a rosy-mauve harmony, and by the light foliage of grasses such as Pennisetums or Stipas.

Allium cernuum White Dwarf
Allium cernuum White Dwarf at bottom right, surrounded by Allium millenium, scabious and Cape hyacinths

Tulipa 'Striped Crown': the sophisticated legacy of tulipomania

Let us finish this selection with another very beautiful tulip, in pink tones this time, with 'Striped Crown'. This tulip is part of full-season tulips, blooming in April, a little earlier or later in the month depending on exposure. It is distinguished by its specific form, in the Coronet group of tulips, with petals that are tweaked and curled.

Its shape, its cream colour enlivened with raspberry pink, varying with bulbs, its originality aimed at reproducing the striped motifs of Dutch tulips from the 17th-century tulipmania... All of this prefigures 'Striped Crown' joining a small, sophisticated, and precious garden at the foot of spring-flowering shrubs, but also a well-presented pot where you may prefer to let it dominate without other flowers. You can also simply grow it to use in unique bouquets. Like all tulips, give it well-drained soil so you can enjoy it again year after year.

Read also: Tulipomania: when a tulip was worth the price of a house

tulipes coronet
The Tulipa 'Striped Crown' deserves a simple planting, at the foot of shrubs such as Snowball Viburnum or a Staphylea with purple foliage

Each late summer brings its share of bulbs for spring colour, to irresistibly brighten our gardens. At this time of year we are often busy seeking the gems among these essential bulbs that will, in turn, lift us out of winter torpor in a few months. Our teams set out each year in search of […]

The moon, a celestial body of all fantasies, has long been the subject of controversy regarding its effects on plants. There are those who swear by lunar calendars for sowing, planting, pruning, or mowing the lawn, and those who do not believe in it at all. We know the effects of the moon on our good old planet Earth, particularly its attraction on ocean currents with the tides. It is even said to have some effects on humans, their sleep, or their moods… but does it really affect our gardens, and if so, to what extent? The most reputable magazines include a lunar calendar in their pages, so… fact or fiction, myth or reality?
I wanted to get to the bottom of it and find out once and for all if the moon truly exerts a real influence on plants. To do this, I carried out sowing and planting on very different days to draw my own conclusions. Intrigued by the results? Here they are!

gardening with lunar calendar

What do the moon's movements in the sky tell us?

Let’s start at the beginning, namely what books or popular belief tell us about the rotation and gravitational pull of the moon, and what is scientifically proven. While the moon is subject to controversy, it remains a fact that our only satellite moves in the sky. The fundamental principle of gardening in harmony with the moon is based on its position in the sky.
However, it can be confusing to distinguish between the waxing or ascending moon and other subtleties, and it is essential to understand three distinct factors:

The phases of the moon

Easy to spot with the naked eye, we can identify four main phases of the Moon (actually eight if we count the intermediate crescents), marked by the four quarters of the Moon. These phases are due to the relative positions of the Moon-Earth-Sun axis, which determines the portion of the Moon illuminated by the Sun as seen from Earth: the new moon, when it is not illuminated at all by the Sun and becomes almost invisible; the first quarter, in the shape of a crescent opening to the left; the full moon, when it is completely illuminated by the Sun; and the last quarter of the moon, where it forms a crescent opening to the right, before disappearing completely to restart the lunar cycle with the new moon. This lunar cycle lasts about 29.5 days.

These phases inform what is referred to as the waxing and waning moon in "lunar" language:

  • Waxing moon: the period when the illuminated part of the moon we see increases, from the new moon to the full moon;
  • Waning moon: the period when the illuminated part of the moon decreases: from the full moon to the new moon.

Scientifically speaking, we can assert that these phases influence the amount of nocturnal moonlight. Some gardeners believe that this increased light during the waxing moon stimulates the growth of the aerial parts of plants, while the diminishing light is favourable for root growth. To date, however, no scientific study has proven this.

The position of the Moon relative to the Earth: perigee and apogee

The Moon orbits the Earth in an elliptical path, meaning its distance from our planet varies. When it is closest to the Earth (about 357,000 km), it is referred to as perigee, and when it is farthest away (an additional 50,000 km or so), it is called apogee.

These variations in distance could influence the gravitational force exerted by the Moon on the Earth, and thus on plants, but certainly to a minimal extent… In the case of high tides, for example, there is a clear link with the phases of the full moon or new moon, and not with perigee or apogee. Note: perigee is considered detrimental in lunar gardening.

The ascending and descending movement of the Moon on the horizon

The ascending and descending movements of the Moon are due to its inclined orbit around the Earth. This time, we refer to what is called the tropic rhythm of the moon: the height of the lunar trajectory relative to the celestial equator differs. The human eye can distinguish this over several days, observing that the moon is higher or lower on the horizon.

These phases inform what is referred to as the ascending and descending moon:

  • Ascending or rising moon: the period when the position of the Moon in the sky is higher each day compared to the horizon.
  • Descending moon: the period when the Moon appears to descend lower in the sky each night.

The ascending moon, associated with rising sap, is said to be favourable for sowing, harvesting, and grafting, while the stronger growth during the descending moon, associated with descending sap, is said to be favourable for roots, soil work, planting, transplanting, and pruning.

Some see a correlation with zodiac constellations.

Some even see a link here with the moon's trajectory through the twelve zodiac constellations (where, from Gemini—the highest constellation—to Scorpio, the moon is descending), and attribute to each of the four elements related to the zodiac a correlation with flower days (air), leaf days (water), fruit days (fire), and root days (earth). Each type of day is thus said to favour the growth of a specific part of plants.

Again, there is no irrefutable proof, but biodynamics refers to this in its guidelines as a planning tool.

gardening with the moon true or false

My experience with the Moon

On my part, I admit that before starting my little experiment, I had no preconceived notions. The Moon is, to me, a fascinating celestial body, particularly for its influence on tides and the luminous power it exerts when it approaches a perfect circle. However, I had not really delved into the subject, despite years of gardening experience. To avoid any influence, I carried out sowing, planting, and propagation at times that suited me, without consulting any calendar, but diligently noting all my actions in a small notebook for future reference.
What interested me most was to find out whether it was more beneficial to plant or sow during supposedly favourable lunar phases, or not.
I therefore carried out several sowings in spring, including various annual ornamental flowers (sweet peas, daisies, balsam, and poppies) and a few vegetables (lettuce, parsley, coriander, and Swiss chard). During this same period, I planted some perennials (lobelias, hostas, epimediums…) while meticulously noting the intervention dates. I then transplanted the same plants at different times to see if it affected their ability to thrive. Finally, to complete this little lunar test, I conducted a hydrangea propagation test this summer.
In terms of sowing, I encountered issues with a few flowers at the beginning, due to either the bad weather in March or the poor quality of the seeds, as some sowings did not take at all, like an initial batch of sweet peas.

This summer, as my various trials bore fruit (finally… their flowers), I consulted an online lunar calendar to find out when I had sown or planted, and I evaluated the success rate of each of my trials. I simply checked in detail my blind tests: whether the moon was ascending or descending, waxing or waning, and what type of day it was (fruit, root, leaf, or flower).

The verdict? Well… no lunar miracle on my part… my plants thrived regardless of the lunar phase, except for one failed sowing at the beginning, regardless of whether the moon was ascending, waxing, or not. Unfortunately, none of my blind sowings and plantings coincided with a "lunar node," so I cannot comment on that. Almost a disappointment, as all this was starting to intrigue me and make me want to believe…

And its influence on the weather?

The moon has often been mentioned in popular sayings associating it with weather forecasts, which were the only possible ones for centuries, alongside observations of clouds or animal behaviour, in a time not so long ago without screens!
Here are a few French sayings that I found to be the least far-fetched. Do they hold true?
"Mow your hay: when the moon comes into the water, in three days it will be fine"
"Ringed moon, assured rain"
"When the moon has its ring, water will fall"
or "Pale moon in the evening, in the morning it will rain well".

This is another topic for discussion, which I invite you to continue here, based on your own observations of the sky…

So, are you tempted to plan your gardening tasks using a lunar calendar or not? If we must consider the weather and the whims of the moon, one might say we can no longer garden. Ultimately, everyone has their own method, as long as we enjoy gardening, right? But sharing experiences in this area is always interesting. Please feel free to share your trials and experiences with us!

I’ll leave the final word to Olivier de Serres, who claimed in the 16th century that "a man who is too lunar [consulting the moon] fills not his basket with fruits"...

The moon, a celestial body of all fantasies, has long been the subject of controversy regarding its effects on plants. There are those who swear by lunar calendars for sowing, planting, pruning, or mowing the lawn, and those who do not believe in it at all. We know the effects of the moon on our […]

When we go shopping or peel an apple, we don't really think about the origins of the various fruits that grace our tables, as they are such a part of our daily lives. Yet, if they could speak, they would tell us the incredible journey that brought them to us, from the earliest times!
These juicy and fragrant fruits that we enjoy throughout the year mostly appeared long ago in distant lands, although some arrived on our old continent more recently.
As I shared the epic of vegetables in a previous episode, I invite you this summer to continue this tasty journey into the colourful world of our most familiar fruits.

history of fruits

Origin of fruits: the continents that they originate from

There are nearly 150 different fruits in the world... and thousands of varieties. While we associate some with a national culture, the vast majority come from countries, or even distant continents. Some, like cherries or pears, have two distinct origins. Here are the distribution areas and origins* of some of the most consumed fruits today, by continents and major regions of the world:

  • America: pineapple (Brazil), avocado (Mexico), tomato - botanically a fruit! - (Mexico and Central America), papaya (Central America), guava (Central America and Brazil).
  • Asia: pear, peach, apricot, kiwi, and orange (China), banana (Southeast Asia), lemon and mango (India), pomegranate (Central Asia, Afghanistan).
  • Middle East: fig (Turkey), date (Mesopotamia), pomegranate (Iran), cherry (Anatolia).
  • Europe: apple (Caucasus), pear (Europe and Asia Minor), grape (Middle East and Europe), strawberry (Europe and North America), grape (Caucasus and Southern Europe).
  • Africa: watermelon, melon.

* This distribution lists fruits native to countries that were later introduced to other regions of the world, before becoming naturalised in some.

Fruits through time and cultures

Wild berries, ancestors of our blackberries and raspberries, were an important part of the diet of hunter-gatherers and were consumed by prehistoric humans long before agriculture developed.

But one of the oldest cultivated fruits in humanity is considered to be the fig. It is believed to be the first fruit to have been domesticated, even before cereals in some regions of the present-day Middle East. Excavations in the Jordan Valley, in the Jericho region of the West Bank, have uncovered carbonised figs dating back to around 9000 BC. Dates were also cultivated from antiquity.

In the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, fruit cultivation developed in Europe and Asia. In European monasteries, the creation of the kitchen garden with the medieval enclosed garden played a crucial role in the preservation and development of fruit cultivation, particularly of apple, quince, and cherry trees. The medieval orchard is associated with the lost paradise, and many illuminations depict it. Fruits like apple, pear, and grape made their way to the tables. The Crusades and later the great maritime expeditions would enrich the diversity of available fruits. This was a time when fruits were often consumed in dried form, allowing for longer preservation (figs, apples, apricots, plums, and cherries).

During the Renaissance, trade introduced new varieties of grapes, enriching European viticulture. The Crusades also facilitated the introduction of citrus trees to Europe, significantly transforming eating habits. Horticulturists and later fruit growers made decisive advances in fruit-growing techniques (grafting, cultivation on trellises, and the creation of fruit shapes, hardening under glass), leading to the fruit heritage as we know it today.

where do fruit trees come from
Still life with fruits by William Joseph Hammer, 1856
Photo Wikimedia Commons

Discovering three iconic fruits: pear, melon, and strawberry

Among the wide array of fruits available to us today, I have chosen to talk about three fruits that have now become part of our consumption habits.

Pear: millennia of know-how and innovations

A common fruit today, the pear is counted among around sixty species, and nearly 2000 varieties worldwide!: Comice, Conference, Williams, Passe Crassane, or Guyot... to name just a few of the most common in our markets.
It is actually one of the oldest fruits cultivated in the Northern Hemisphere, and its history dates back millennia.

Originating in Asia, the pear later made its way to Europe. In China, where writings dating back to the 5th century BC mention it, it has been cultivated for over 5000 years. Remains and seeds of pears (Pyrus communis) have been found in the lake dwellings of present-day Switzerland and in prehistoric Neolithic sites. While it appears in Egyptian and Greek civilizations, it was the Romans who first developed and improved this fruit by practising early grafting. By 50 AD, there were already 35 different species.

The pear established its presence in Europe from the Middle Ages, but at that time it was little appreciated, often cooked, and had various unflattering names (anguish pear or rosy stone). Quintinie (1626-1688) truly gave it its letters of nobility: King Louis XIV was fond of it (well... mainly to decorate his gala tables), and it was from the 17th century that cross-breeding began, with quince trees. Improvements in fruit cultivation techniques then allowed for the production of higher quality pears, much more melting, contributing to their growing popularity among both nobles and commoners. Five hundred species were already recorded during Quintinie's time, including the stars of the era, Bon Chrétien or Cuisse-Madame.

The Williams pear was born in 1796, the Conference pear was named in 1885, and the Angelys pear, one of the latest, was born in 1998. It is now marketed under the name Angys®, a product of Angevin research from INRAE (hurray!), resulting from a cross between Doyenné du Comice and Doyenné d'Hiver.

Asian pears (Pyrus pyrifolia) and their descendants are crunchy-fleshed fruits, like the Nashi, while our common European pear trees (Pyrus communis), descended from wild pear trees in the mountainous regions of the Caspian Sea, produce tender and juicy fruits. Even today, we distinguish between "knife pears" for raw tasting, melting pears, and "cooking pears," much like with apples. The main edible species come from Pyrus pyrifolia. In Asia, there are nearly 3000 varieties from Pyrus pyrifolia, Pyrus ussuriensis, and Pyrus bretshneideri, some of which are hardy to below -30°C.

The sixth favourite fruit of the French, available all year round in our markets, and in world-renowned recipes like pear Belle Hélène, this fruit continues to charm us. Notably, the largest producer of pears in the world is once again... China, with a production of 16.5 million tonnes of pears. Strangely, 50% of the pears consumed in France are imported, knowing that our main producing regions are the Loire and Val-de-Loire regions.

pears history

Apricot: from Tibet to Provence

Its botanical name, Prunus armeniaca, mistakenly attributed by Carl von Linné, would suggest an Armenian origin for the apricot tree. This is not the case, as this highly appreciated summer fruit, associated with the Mediterranean basin, actually originated on the foothills of the Himalayas, between Turkestan, Tibet, and Manchuria, just like our good old peach. This wild ancestor of the modern apricot tree was introduced much further east, indeed passing through Armenia, via the Silk Road. The apricot arrived in the West in already improved forms, as the Chinese had been cultivating it for millennia. It conquered Greece and the Roman Empire at the very beginning of the Christian era. The Romans named it praecoquum, meaning the early fruit, and later Punum armeniacum, in reference to its introduction in Armenia. The name apricot would not appear in the French language until the 16th century, borrowed from the Spanish albaricoque, which itself derives from the Arabic al-barqūq.

It was the Moors who, in the 8th century, brought the apricot to Spain. It was not until the 16th century that this fruit gradually began to be appreciated. The good King René, who inherited the kingdoms of Naples and Sicily, is said to have introduced the apricot tree to Anjou a century earlier, around 1435. During the Middle Ages, it had a poor reputation, thought to cause fever. It took time before the apricot was consumed raw, as we do today by biting into the sun-warmed fruit right from the tree. Quintinie himself reserved it exclusively for cooked preparations like jams or compotes. It wasn't until the 18th century that its cultivation expanded in the southern regions of France, and more and more varieties began to emerge.

The modern apricot has thus been cultivated in our regions for less than 500 years. Today, the main apricot-growing areas are still the Mediterranean basin, with France being the 17th largest producer by volume. Turkey, the world's leading producer, primarily produces dried apricots from varieties particularly suited for drying.

apricot origin and history
Still life with cut apricots, Lubin Baugin
(oil on wood panel, circa 1630; Rennes Museum) - Photo Wikimedia Commons

Melon: an unloved fruit turned summer star

The orange-fleshed melon, bursting with sugar and sunshine that we enjoy in France in the heart of summer (Cucumis melo), originating from Africa and Asia, also has a fascinating history. Cultivated since antiquity in Egypt and Mesopotamia, it was then appreciated for its seeds as much as for its flesh. It appears, along with watermelon, in tomb frescoes. The Romans, likely the ones who introduced it to Europe, knew it but often preferred watermelon (Cucumis citrullus), finding it rather bland. At that time, the melon was actually considered more of a vegetable and was often consumed cooked and salted or in salads.

In the year 800, Charlemagne mentions it among the recommended plants in the Capitulaire de Villis, using the name given to it by the Greeks, "pepon" ('cooked by the sun).

melon history origin

This delicate fruit began to acclimatise in Europe thanks to the development of greenhouses, starting in the 17th century, which allowed it to be hastened and consumed year-round, as demanded by the nobility. It became larger and tastier. In France, the melon, like other fruits or vegetables, still had a poor reputation, often perceived by doctors as a dangerous food, causing indigestion due to its harmful juices, the "succum pessimum". Several popes even died from excessive consumption, as was said of Clement VIII. This reputation gradually faded in the 18th century, where an author like Marc-Antoine Girard de Saint-Amand made a flattering description in a poem full of finesse: The Melon. Voltaire even crowned it "the masterpiece of summer." Since 1780, the cantaloupe melon, round and with orange flesh, from the summer residence of the popes of Cantaluppi, became known in French gardens. The Marquise de Sévigné and later Alexandre Dumas became ambassadors of the Cavaillon melon, the former for her adoration of this Provençal fruit, the latter for having it delivered to him until his death as a life annuity in exchange for books!

Greenhouse and cloche cultivation methods improved, and the large melon cloche appeared in the 18th century, still used today by those fortunate enough to possess one. It became a fruit that signified a high social status.

Although few writings confirm it factually, it is often said that melons, due to their increasing market value and popularity, became targets of theft when grown in enclosed and monitored gardens, particularly in Europe during the 17th and 18th centuries.

Today, the melon is enjoyed worldwide and is cultivated in open fields or greenhouses in many regions. France is one of the leading producers in Europe, with Provence and Charente renowned for the quality of their melons. Charentais melons, recognisable by their orange flesh and wrinkled skin, are prized for their sweet and fragrant flavour. The Cavaillon melon remains a summer staple. In France, we are the thirteenth largest producer of melons globally, but we must import them (mainly from Spain and Morocco) for our summer consumption.

As for yellow melons or sweet melons, they are associated with Spain, where they are widely consumed. These melons, also known as Santa Claus melons or 'Piel de Sapo' melons (toad skin), have a green speckled skin and a very refreshing white or green flesh. They are primarily cultivated in the Spanish regions of Murcia, Andalusia, and Valencia.

The new hybrids and exotic fruits

Most of our fruits date back to very ancient times, but some fruits only appeared late in our kitchens and on our tables. These are mainly exotic fruits that our palates began to discover and appreciate at the dawn of the 20th century, such as the kiwi, originally from China but cultivated in New Zealand since the early 20th century, and only becoming popular in Europe from the 1960s, or the lychee, which appeared in Europe as early as the 18th century thanks to colonial imports. The prickly pear, now available in some markets, had remained relatively unknown in the West since Christopher Columbus.

Since the 1970s and 80s, other fruits have appeared on the market, born from the hybridization of two species, horticultural selections, genetic manipulations, or natural mutations. Some are still little known, such as the boysenberry or blackberry-raspberry, a cross between a raspberry and a wild bramble, and the caseille or cassisberry, another cross of red fruits between a blackcurrant and a gooseberry. The aprium, born from the (American) love affair between a plum and an apricot tree, the pluot, another hybrid between plum and apricot, are other laboratory discoveries. Citrus fruits are not left out, with notably the tangelo (or Minneola), a hybrid of a mandarin and a grapefruit, less acidic and sweeter than a pomelo. The Americans, who have also developed pink blueberries (like 'Pink Lemonade'), are often behind these more or less fanciful genetic discoveries...

All these new fruits are proof that fruit innovation has not yet said its last word in adapting, among other things, to the new global climate challenges.

what are the new fruits on the market
Lychees and kiwis became common in our stores from the 1980s, but we are now seeing new fruits like the pluot or tangelo emerging over the past decade

Heirloom and forgotten fruits

We are also currently witnessing the rediscovery of forgotten fruits like quince, medlar, jujube, or persimmon, often brought back to the forefront by chefs or organic orchards. Would you like to learn more about these ancient fruits? Browse our articles and recipes:

Further reading: some useful books and websites

For botanists or history enthusiasts and those passionate about local and ancient fruit varieties, I recommend the following works (in French):

Several associations and organisations allow for further learning about the origin and conservation of fruits:

  • The Apple Crunchers, who have been advocating for the preservation of regional fruit varieties for years.
  • Forgotten Fruits: a network that contributes to the promotion and preservation of fruit heritage.
  • The National Centre for Pomology, an association dedicated to the conservation, study, and promotion of fruit varieties, particularly ancient and local varieties.

To extend this reading, discover the ancestral history of the fig in this excellent article by Alain Bonjean in the Chronicles of Vegetal. You will learn all about the genomes of the apricot in this publication from INRAE. And Eric Birlouez tells you much more about the apricot's journey in his podcast on France Inter...

Finally, listen to a delightful segment, In the Intimacy of History: The Pear, an Erotic Fruit, narrated by historian Clémentine Portier-Kaltenbach.


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When we go shopping or peel an apple, we don’t really think about the origins of the various fruits that grace our tables, as they are such a part of our daily lives. Yet, if they could speak, they would tell us the incredible journey that brought them to us, from the earliest times!These juicy […]