Ornamental grasses are one of the most useful types of plants you can use in your landscape designs; here are five ideas to get you started, plus lots of beautiful grasses to achieve your favorite look.

Grasses can act visually like shrubs. Some are arching, while others are stiff and formal. Learn more about designing your garden with grasses.

Whether you're looking for height or ground cover, ornamental grasses for shade are great plants to grow in your landscaping. Learn about 13 ornamental grasses for shade ideas.

Perfect for creating elegant borders and backgrounds for flower beds. Create a sense of calm, relaxation and sophistication with ornamental grasses.

With a little imagination and a slightly broader palette of plants, these ornamental grass combinations showcase your grasses all season.

Of all the old rectories and vicarages in the Cotswolds, the one with the garden by Dan Pearson is the standout. There is still scope for proper tea on the

Create a landscape of non-invasive ground cover and clumping grasses with ornamental grass. Make a focal point with pampas grass, and feather reed grass, or grow a border along your garden with miscanthus, and switchgrass. #noninvasive #grasses #grass

Create stunning plant combinations for beds, borders, or containers. Unlock your creativity and transform your garden today!

Just today I was able to go out into the garden and cut flowers for our dining table (photo above). It's comfort to my soul to be able to grow flowers for our own home.

Tall ornamental grasses are a great addition to any landscaping. Learn more about tall ornamental grasses that create a privacy fence for your backyards or landscaping.

These drought-tolerant plants will add life and color to your garden, even if you live in a hot and dry desert environment.

This lovely contemporary garden, rich in texture and interest, features a dining terrace with a cedar patio table cantilevered over an area richly planted with drifts of Verbena, Nepeta, Agastache and Lavandula. All of this is delicately veiled by Deschampsia cespitosa.

Thoughts about our garden. “We desire,” the Emporer dictated, “that in the garden there should be all kinds of plants.” Charlemagne the Great I do a lot of writing about gardens, but our own personal garden has never been the subject of this blog. Our garden is always a backdrop to my thinking about gardens and gardening—a sort of character in my story whose face is never revealed. There are many reasons for this: first, our garden is just in the process of being established; I’m a terrible photographer and our garden is surrounded on three sides by unattractive roads and on one side by our unattractive house; and mostly because the act of gardening feels profoundly personal to me. It was designed for us, for our own pleasure, so the idea of opening for public consumption is a bit terrifying to me. BEFORE: The garden area when we bought the house. But I love other blogs that openly share their own gardens. James Golden’s View from Federal Twist is a brilliant blog about two wonderful gardens. That James bears his own soul through the garden is a source of endless inspiration to me. I’m just not that brave. And Scott Weber’s Rhone Street Garden is another fantastic blog. Scott transforms his small garden into and endless expanse through the lens of his camera. Through his images, I see and enjoy Scott’s garden much in the way he probably does. Nasella tenuissima and Salvia 'Caradonna' So in homage to other bloggers who bravely open their own gardens to public scrutiny, I am adding a few images of our own “in-process” garden. This spring marks two full years since I began smothering a triangular wedge of lawn in our sunny side yard. This area was too small to be a usable lawn, and too close to the road to be an enjoyable outdoor use area, so it seemed like a practical area for a garden. The sipping terrace which my brother-in-law calls the "duck blind" in late summer The house we bought was a neglected mid-century ranch which we essentially gutted, so my wife and I have poured our resources and time into renovating the house room by room. The only way to afford the renovation was to do everything ourselves, so that has left little time and money for the garden. The assembly of plants—and assembly is a much more accurate term than design—is a result of what we could get cheaply, what we could divide, what was available, and what would survive the mid-summer heat and humidity. This approach is probably entirely familiar to most gardeners, yet entirely problematic from my point of view as a designer. The garden becomes a product of impulse purchases and ad hoc decisions, not careful planning. Kniphofia 'Salley's Comet' with Pleioblastus viridistriatus, Nepeta "Walker's Low' and Eschscholzia californica But I’ve decided to embrace this non-designed approach. Design has its limitations, too. Any designer who has ever installed a garden, walked away, and then visited that garden five years later learns that design is not a singular vision set to paper; design is a thousand of little decisions and actions made through the life of the garden. Iris 'Persian Berry', one of the most exquisite colors I've ever seen With no real design to speak of, the garden has only a sort of guiding philosophy: plant only that which gives us pleasure. To use an admittedly pretentious term, our garden is a sort of “pleasaunce” by default, an archaic term for pleasure-garden. The concept of a pleasure garden is a bit antiquated these days. We are now much more likely to call non-food bearing gardens ornamental gardens. But “ornamental” is such a poor descriptive phrase. Who picks plants like they would pick wallpaper? To match their exterior trim? The worst gardens are those that aim to be merely decorative. No, we pick plants to live with us because they give us pleasure. I was recently re-acquainted with the idea of pleasure gardens when I re-read one of my favorite garden books, Rose Standish Nichols’ English Pleasure Gardens. It is a book I often pick up, read a chapter, and then put it away for a while. This century-old book is a compelling story of the English garden as viewed through three centuries of garden history. Throughout the book, one theme keeps emerging throughout the millennia: gardens exist for our pleasure. Christopher Lloyd’s writings have also been an inspiration of late. Perhaps I’ve spent too many years designing gardens, too many years of balancing client’s desires with safe plant selections. I love the almost garish quality of Dixter’s Long Border. The way it thumbs its nose at “tasteful” gray, pink, and blue color harmonies. The way it mixes tropicals, shrubs, perennials into one boisterous expression. Like Dixter, I would love a garden dedicated to nothing but horticultural craftsmanship. ''Beware of harboring too many plants in your garden of which the adjectives graceful and charming perpetually spring to your besotted lips,'' Lloyd warns as he clutches a black-leafed Canna. I love that. Dixter’s great triumph (and perhaps its downfall) is that it employs every tool in the planter’s toolkit all at once. The result is a hot mess, but one of the purest expressions of horticultural exuberance I’ve ever known. And what a joy that is. Cotinus 'Royal Purple' center (coppiced yearly), Savlia sclarea, Miscanthus 'Morning Light' and Alliums Perhaps all gardening is an attempt to re-create Eden, but our garden has absolutely no paradisiacal qualities. As a result of its placement next to an ugly house and an ugly road, we’ve adopted a more postlapsarian style. In the border, we have an ecumenical selection of wetland plants, desert grasses, South African bulbs, native forbs, and color foliage shrubs. Anything goes as long as it goes. The other side of our yard, we are beginning another more restrained garden evocative of a woodland edge. But in the border, there is no room for restraint, only more and more plants. Nasella tenuissima, Salvia 'Caradonna' and Allium 'Purple Sensation' In this blog, I am often guilty of heaping too much meaning on gardens, burying a simple act under too many metaphors. Perhaps it is an effort to justify my own profession, to add more significance to my calling than actually exists. If a garden exists simply for our own pleasure, what then? Perhaps that is enough. All I know is that gardening is hard work that reveals many agonies and few ecstasies. So despite the garden’s many flaws and failings, when the afternoon sun hits a patch of Feather grass and silhouettes the violet stems of Salvia ‘Caradonna’, it is enough for me. For now, I am pleased. Phlomis tuberosa and Hibiscus 'Fantasia' The ever ubiquitious, but entirely useful Spiraea 'Goldflamme' with Zahara Zinnias Our native-ish garden, planted this srping.

Native grasses are a fantastic option for those tricky spots in the garden. They are tough, thrive in a wide range of conditions and need very little maintenance. Native grasses can be used as specimen plants and are very effective when mass planted along a pathway, driveway or fence or as a backdrop providing consistent colour and interesting

Ornamental grasses are one of the most useful types of plants you can use in your landscape designs; here are five ideas to get you started, plus lots of beautiful grasses to achieve your favorite look.

Beautiful ideas for landscaping with tall or short ornamental grasses that you can plant yourself! Creative gardening ideas!

Have you been thinking about adding the best Red Ornamental Grasses in your garden? Choose the best varieties from our compiled list!

There are plenty of reasons to get excited.

Garden Designs Ideas 2018 : ornamental grass design ideas, ( would have to be adapted to our zone)

Mass planting of grasses and complementary colour palettes provide a sense of both unity and definition in this Hampshire garden.

Here's a little inspiration to transform your outdoor space (or even just get started gardening).

Check out the best landscaping ideas for your backyard and front yard, including landscaping design, garden ideas, flowers, and garden layouts.

Whether you're looking for height or ground cover, ornamental grasses for shade are great plants to grow in your landscaping. Learn about 13 ornamental grasses for shade ideas.

Want to learn all you need to know about Pink Muhly Grass? I've germinated and grown this beautiful grass for years. Come have a look to learn it all!

Are you the type of person that loves to spend time outside? A deck garden can offer you privacy, shade, and sun. When a deck garden is growing well, it can

With these low maintenance garden border ideas, time-strapped gardeners can still create inspiring and beautiful planting schemes, without too much effort

Garden designer Angel Collins runs us through the basics of garden design, and what to bear in mind when planning a garden from scratch.

Ornamental grasses will bring the necessary contrast and elegant arrangement to your garden. Basically, they include plants within four leading families such as rushes, true grasses, reeds, and sedges. Think carefully before begin planting any

There are plenty of reasons to get excited.

Ornamental grasses will bring the necessary contrast and elegant arrangement to your garden. Basically, they include plants within four leading families such as rushes, true grasses, reeds, and sedges. Think carefully before begin planting any

Over 13 years Lily Langham has intuitively transformed her husband's inherited family farmland into a breathtaking, bountiful paradise.

Garden Design magazine's new issue celebrates wild landscapes, never-before-seen coastal gardens, rugged terra cotta pots, and standout ferns for shade or

The Hakonechloa macra, also known as the Japanese forest grass or Hakone grass, is an ornamental perennial grass native to the mountains of Japan.

Whether you're looking for height or ground cover, ornamental grasses for shade are great plants to grow in your landscaping. Learn about 13 ornamental grasses for shade ideas.

Thoughts about our garden. “We desire,” the Emporer dictated, “that in the garden there should be all kinds of plants.” Charlemagne the Great I do a lot of writing about gardens, but our own personal garden has never been the subject of this blog. Our garden is always a backdrop to my thinking about gardens and gardening—a sort of character in my story whose face is never revealed. There are many reasons for this: first, our garden is just in the process of being established; I’m a terrible photographer and our garden is surrounded on three sides by unattractive roads and on one side by our unattractive house; and mostly because the act of gardening feels profoundly personal to me. It was designed for us, for our own pleasure, so the idea of opening for public consumption is a bit terrifying to me. BEFORE: The garden area when we bought the house. But I love other blogs that openly share their own gardens. James Golden’s View from Federal Twist is a brilliant blog about two wonderful gardens. That James bears his own soul through the garden is a source of endless inspiration to me. I’m just not that brave. And Scott Weber’s Rhone Street Garden is another fantastic blog. Scott transforms his small garden into and endless expanse through the lens of his camera. Through his images, I see and enjoy Scott’s garden much in the way he probably does. Nasella tenuissima and Salvia 'Caradonna' So in homage to other bloggers who bravely open their own gardens to public scrutiny, I am adding a few images of our own “in-process” garden. This spring marks two full years since I began smothering a triangular wedge of lawn in our sunny side yard. This area was too small to be a usable lawn, and too close to the road to be an enjoyable outdoor use area, so it seemed like a practical area for a garden. The sipping terrace which my brother-in-law calls the "duck blind" in late summer The house we bought was a neglected mid-century ranch which we essentially gutted, so my wife and I have poured our resources and time into renovating the house room by room. The only way to afford the renovation was to do everything ourselves, so that has left little time and money for the garden. The assembly of plants—and assembly is a much more accurate term than design—is a result of what we could get cheaply, what we could divide, what was available, and what would survive the mid-summer heat and humidity. This approach is probably entirely familiar to most gardeners, yet entirely problematic from my point of view as a designer. The garden becomes a product of impulse purchases and ad hoc decisions, not careful planning. Kniphofia 'Salley's Comet' with Pleioblastus viridistriatus, Nepeta "Walker's Low' and Eschscholzia californica But I’ve decided to embrace this non-designed approach. Design has its limitations, too. Any designer who has ever installed a garden, walked away, and then visited that garden five years later learns that design is not a singular vision set to paper; design is a thousand of little decisions and actions made through the life of the garden. Iris 'Persian Berry', one of the most exquisite colors I've ever seen With no real design to speak of, the garden has only a sort of guiding philosophy: plant only that which gives us pleasure. To use an admittedly pretentious term, our garden is a sort of “pleasaunce” by default, an archaic term for pleasure-garden. The concept of a pleasure garden is a bit antiquated these days. We are now much more likely to call non-food bearing gardens ornamental gardens. But “ornamental” is such a poor descriptive phrase. Who picks plants like they would pick wallpaper? To match their exterior trim? The worst gardens are those that aim to be merely decorative. No, we pick plants to live with us because they give us pleasure. I was recently re-acquainted with the idea of pleasure gardens when I re-read one of my favorite garden books, Rose Standish Nichols’ English Pleasure Gardens. It is a book I often pick up, read a chapter, and then put it away for a while. This century-old book is a compelling story of the English garden as viewed through three centuries of garden history. Throughout the book, one theme keeps emerging throughout the millennia: gardens exist for our pleasure. Christopher Lloyd’s writings have also been an inspiration of late. Perhaps I’ve spent too many years designing gardens, too many years of balancing client’s desires with safe plant selections. I love the almost garish quality of Dixter’s Long Border. The way it thumbs its nose at “tasteful” gray, pink, and blue color harmonies. The way it mixes tropicals, shrubs, perennials into one boisterous expression. Like Dixter, I would love a garden dedicated to nothing but horticultural craftsmanship. ''Beware of harboring too many plants in your garden of which the adjectives graceful and charming perpetually spring to your besotted lips,'' Lloyd warns as he clutches a black-leafed Canna. I love that. Dixter’s great triumph (and perhaps its downfall) is that it employs every tool in the planter’s toolkit all at once. The result is a hot mess, but one of the purest expressions of horticultural exuberance I’ve ever known. And what a joy that is. Cotinus 'Royal Purple' center (coppiced yearly), Savlia sclarea, Miscanthus 'Morning Light' and Alliums Perhaps all gardening is an attempt to re-create Eden, but our garden has absolutely no paradisiacal qualities. As a result of its placement next to an ugly house and an ugly road, we’ve adopted a more postlapsarian style. In the border, we have an ecumenical selection of wetland plants, desert grasses, South African bulbs, native forbs, and color foliage shrubs. Anything goes as long as it goes. The other side of our yard, we are beginning another more restrained garden evocative of a woodland edge. But in the border, there is no room for restraint, only more and more plants. Nasella tenuissima, Salvia 'Caradonna' and Allium 'Purple Sensation' In this blog, I am often guilty of heaping too much meaning on gardens, burying a simple act under too many metaphors. Perhaps it is an effort to justify my own profession, to add more significance to my calling than actually exists. If a garden exists simply for our own pleasure, what then? Perhaps that is enough. All I know is that gardening is hard work that reveals many agonies and few ecstasies. So despite the garden’s many flaws and failings, when the afternoon sun hits a patch of Feather grass and silhouettes the violet stems of Salvia ‘Caradonna’, it is enough for me. For now, I am pleased. Phlomis tuberosa and Hibiscus 'Fantasia' The ever ubiquitious, but entirely useful Spiraea 'Goldflamme' with Zahara Zinnias Our native-ish garden, planted this srping.

These invasive plants are all beautiful so you will be tempted to plant them in your garden. Find out which invasive species are not worth the hassle.

Beautiful ideas for landscaping with tall or short ornamental grasses that you can plant yourself! Creative gardening ideas!

Early spring is the season of hope: for the most beautiful garden ever. And you can have that. You also can lay the most charming front path in the history

Thoughts about our garden. “We desire,” the Emporer dictated, “that in the garden there should be all kinds of plants.” Charlemagne the Great I do a lot of writing about gardens, but our own personal garden has never been the subject of this blog. Our garden is always a backdrop to my thinking about gardens and gardening—a sort of character in my story whose face is never revealed. There are many reasons for this: first, our garden is just in the process of being established; I’m a terrible photographer and our garden is surrounded on three sides by unattractive roads and on one side by our unattractive house; and mostly because the act of gardening feels profoundly personal to me. It was designed for us, for our own pleasure, so the idea of opening for public consumption is a bit terrifying to me. BEFORE: The garden area when we bought the house. But I love other blogs that openly share their own gardens. James Golden’s View from Federal Twist is a brilliant blog about two wonderful gardens. That James bears his own soul through the garden is a source of endless inspiration to me. I’m just not that brave. And Scott Weber’s Rhone Street Garden is another fantastic blog. Scott transforms his small garden into and endless expanse through the lens of his camera. Through his images, I see and enjoy Scott’s garden much in the way he probably does. Nasella tenuissima and Salvia 'Caradonna' So in homage to other bloggers who bravely open their own gardens to public scrutiny, I am adding a few images of our own “in-process” garden. This spring marks two full years since I began smothering a triangular wedge of lawn in our sunny side yard. This area was too small to be a usable lawn, and too close to the road to be an enjoyable outdoor use area, so it seemed like a practical area for a garden. The sipping terrace which my brother-in-law calls the "duck blind" in late summer The house we bought was a neglected mid-century ranch which we essentially gutted, so my wife and I have poured our resources and time into renovating the house room by room. The only way to afford the renovation was to do everything ourselves, so that has left little time and money for the garden. The assembly of plants—and assembly is a much more accurate term than design—is a result of what we could get cheaply, what we could divide, what was available, and what would survive the mid-summer heat and humidity. This approach is probably entirely familiar to most gardeners, yet entirely problematic from my point of view as a designer. The garden becomes a product of impulse purchases and ad hoc decisions, not careful planning. Kniphofia 'Salley's Comet' with Pleioblastus viridistriatus, Nepeta "Walker's Low' and Eschscholzia californica But I’ve decided to embrace this non-designed approach. Design has its limitations, too. Any designer who has ever installed a garden, walked away, and then visited that garden five years later learns that design is not a singular vision set to paper; design is a thousand of little decisions and actions made through the life of the garden. Iris 'Persian Berry', one of the most exquisite colors I've ever seen With no real design to speak of, the garden has only a sort of guiding philosophy: plant only that which gives us pleasure. To use an admittedly pretentious term, our garden is a sort of “pleasaunce” by default, an archaic term for pleasure-garden. The concept of a pleasure garden is a bit antiquated these days. We are now much more likely to call non-food bearing gardens ornamental gardens. But “ornamental” is such a poor descriptive phrase. Who picks plants like they would pick wallpaper? To match their exterior trim? The worst gardens are those that aim to be merely decorative. No, we pick plants to live with us because they give us pleasure. I was recently re-acquainted with the idea of pleasure gardens when I re-read one of my favorite garden books, Rose Standish Nichols’ English Pleasure Gardens. It is a book I often pick up, read a chapter, and then put it away for a while. This century-old book is a compelling story of the English garden as viewed through three centuries of garden history. Throughout the book, one theme keeps emerging throughout the millennia: gardens exist for our pleasure. Christopher Lloyd’s writings have also been an inspiration of late. Perhaps I’ve spent too many years designing gardens, too many years of balancing client’s desires with safe plant selections. I love the almost garish quality of Dixter’s Long Border. The way it thumbs its nose at “tasteful” gray, pink, and blue color harmonies. The way it mixes tropicals, shrubs, perennials into one boisterous expression. Like Dixter, I would love a garden dedicated to nothing but horticultural craftsmanship. ''Beware of harboring too many plants in your garden of which the adjectives graceful and charming perpetually spring to your besotted lips,'' Lloyd warns as he clutches a black-leafed Canna. I love that. Dixter’s great triumph (and perhaps its downfall) is that it employs every tool in the planter’s toolkit all at once. The result is a hot mess, but one of the purest expressions of horticultural exuberance I’ve ever known. And what a joy that is. Cotinus 'Royal Purple' center (coppiced yearly), Savlia sclarea, Miscanthus 'Morning Light' and Alliums Perhaps all gardening is an attempt to re-create Eden, but our garden has absolutely no paradisiacal qualities. As a result of its placement next to an ugly house and an ugly road, we’ve adopted a more postlapsarian style. In the border, we have an ecumenical selection of wetland plants, desert grasses, South African bulbs, native forbs, and color foliage shrubs. Anything goes as long as it goes. The other side of our yard, we are beginning another more restrained garden evocative of a woodland edge. But in the border, there is no room for restraint, only more and more plants. Nasella tenuissima, Salvia 'Caradonna' and Allium 'Purple Sensation' In this blog, I am often guilty of heaping too much meaning on gardens, burying a simple act under too many metaphors. Perhaps it is an effort to justify my own profession, to add more significance to my calling than actually exists. If a garden exists simply for our own pleasure, what then? Perhaps that is enough. All I know is that gardening is hard work that reveals many agonies and few ecstasies. So despite the garden’s many flaws and failings, when the afternoon sun hits a patch of Feather grass and silhouettes the violet stems of Salvia ‘Caradonna’, it is enough for me. For now, I am pleased. Phlomis tuberosa and Hibiscus 'Fantasia' The ever ubiquitious, but entirely useful Spiraea 'Goldflamme' with Zahara Zinnias Our native-ish garden, planted this srping.

Find the prettiest ornamental grasses for shade and sun with HGTV.com.