Decadence

I've claimed for years to be a decadent creature, though my musician spouse disagrees (probably because the sort of decadence to which gardening English professors are prone differs from that found among musicians whose hobby takes them to places where large quantities of mind-altering beverages are consumed). But since Merriam-Webster defines the term as "characterized by or appealing to self-indulgence," I definitely qualify. Yesterday, for example, with the help of the aforementioned long-suffering spouse, I planted a large specimen of a baptisia actually called "Decadence: Blueberry Sundae." Since our specimen is not yet at its best, here's an image from the growers' website (http://www.provenwinners.com/plants/baptisia/decadence-blueberry-sundae-false-indigo-baptisia-hybrid):

Definitely decadent.

Our specimen is planted in the front yard savannah garden, across the walkway from a baptisia alba, where in future springs these two cousins will flank the path in ivory and blue. They are fronted with feather grass, perhaps my favorite cool-season grass, though not strictly native as it occurs naturally in only a few places in the Southwest. The blue baptisia is accompanied by purple coneflower and black-eyed Susan to continue the color show after the blue flowers have given way to black seed pods. The pink muhly grass survived the winter, so we are looking forward to its pink clouds in fall.

I could go on about the savannah garden plantings, but to do so would be perhaps excessively self-indulgent, and almost certainly strain your patience. There are limits to decadence, after all.