That’s exactly it—the line between intentional and wild gets blurry fast, especially with groundcovers. I’ve had my share of battles with creeping Jenny; one season it’s a charming accent, the next it’s swallowing the brick path. Sweet woodruff’s a bit easier to rein in, but even then, I find myself pulling handfuls every spring just to keep it from crowding the old hydrangeas.
Honestly, I think a little chaos is part of what makes older gardens feel right. Too much control and you lose that sense of age and character. Still, I do think some plants just aren’t worth the hassle—mint comes to mind. Tried it once near the kitchen steps and spent years digging out runners. Never again.
Anyway, finding that balance is more art than science. Sometimes you just have to accept a little mess if you want that lived-in look.
Finding that sweet spot between “lived-in” and “overrun” is tricky, especially when you’re working with a tight budget. I tried to save money by filling in bare spots with ajuga and vinca, thinking they’d be easy fixes. Fast forward two years, and I’m still pulling up ajuga from the cracks in my patio. It’s almost impressive how determined some of these groundcovers are. I get what you mean about creeping Jenny—looks great for a season, then suddenly it’s everywhere you don’t want it.
I do agree that a bit of wildness gives a garden some soul. There’s something about seeing plants spill over the edges that just feels right, especially in older spaces. But there’s a line, and mint definitely crossed it for me too. I thought planting it in a sunken pot would keep it contained, but those runners found their way out anyway. Ended up costing more in time and effort than if I’d just bought fresh mint at the store.
One thing I’ve started doing is setting aside a small “wild patch” at the back where I let things go a bit, but I keep the areas near paths and seating more controlled. It’s not perfect, but it helps keep maintenance costs down since I’m not fighting nature everywhere at once. Sometimes I wonder if there’s really any such thing as low-maintenance groundcover, or if that’s just wishful thinking.
Anyway, I guess part of the fun is figuring out what works (and what doesn’t) without breaking the bank or losing your mind. Still learning as I go...
Funny how “low-maintenance” groundcovers end up being anything but, right? I’ve had vinca try to swallow my stepping stones more than once. What’s worked for me is using mulch or gravel in the highest-traffic spots, then tucking in slower spreaders like thyme or sedum where I want green but not chaos. It’s not foolproof, but at least I’m not yanking mint out of the cracks every weekend. Sometimes just accepting a little wildness is less stressful than fighting it everywhere.
Sometimes just accepting a little wildness is less stressful than fighting it everywhere.
That really resonates. I used to stress over keeping everything tidy, but after my “low-maintenance” clover patch tried to invade the neighbor’s lawn, I just started letting a few things go. Funny how a little imperfection can actually make the space feel more inviting. Plus, thyme between pavers smells amazing when you walk on it—definitely worth the trade-off for me.
Clover’s got a mind of its own, doesn’t it? I once tried to keep a “controlled” wildflower border—ended up looking like my yard was auditioning for a jungle documentary. But you’re right, a bit of chaos makes it feel lived-in. And thyme between pavers? That’s just smart landscaping and aromatherapy rolled into one.
