i have not always loved a hosta. let’s face it, they’re just leaves. the flowers are awkward and forgettable. some gardeners lop off the scapes and don’t bother. because the beauty of a hosta is color and texture and heft.

it was just a few years ago when i was first charmed by them, finally looking past the dreary, pedestrian treatment they get, dull island mounds in shallow rivers of bark mulch, a repeating note droning for the length of a shady wall. hostas are more than that.

it’s still pretty early and none of mine have completely unfurled. the whites are still lemon yellow. but i want to share how individual they can be, introduce some varieties that are more colorful than the same old white edged landscaper specials.

also, they’re delicious if you’re a deer and i wanted to shoot some before they get munched. it was too late for this mystery hosta.

they’re also apparently comfy and delicious if you’re a mouse, because the mice nested in this mystery hosta, a huge, bright, ruffled thin-leaf plant that we call “the lettuce” and destroyed the center roots. fortunately, there are two young plants here ready to take over duties.

this mystery hosta has leaves like a plantain. it’s being crowded by irises, but i like the effect too well to rescue it at the moment.

my well is tucked amonsgt this foliage, because hostas are a great way to paint over unsightly. here’s the view from the other side, another mystery hosta. the deer will have this shredded by midsummer, but it’s still fluffy enough to hide the well head.

this mystery specimen next to the lettuce is a beast. it’s not a particularly stunning variety, but it makes up for it in enthusiasm.

this is kathryn. she’s dainty, about 6” high with eye-watering racing stripes.

beach boy is a big dude with bright flames. this plant is only a couple of years old. i have great expectations of enormousness from him.

poor dreamweaver is just starting to open on the north side. she has the color of kathryn, the flames of beach boy, and is a hugenormous beast. please forgive her bedhead.

also just starting to open and looking around for a coffee is vulcan. on the right is last year so you can see where he’s headed. the chartreuse edging of his flames are yummy.

similar to vulcan, but much suckier, is this little curly critter which is irresistible to slugs and will look like a dirty rag all summer. if i could remember the variety, i would warn you off it.

also slug bait, but i will live with the swiss cheesiness of it because it is luscious, is fire island, dancing in sweet woodruff at the moment. it has red stems like a little golden rhubarb!

nearby is moon lily. i forgot this stunner existed all spring until she cleared the tops of the vinca. if i could only have one hosta (NO), it would be moon lily, with her knobby round chartreuse leaves and bright white flowers. photo on the right is last year.

new this spring and still in the nursery pots: blue mouse ears, a mini, and praying hands, a real weirdo. i love praying hands! it looks like it just saw a spider!

this is ivory coast. i wish she was further along, because she is a sight to behold at her peak. the yellow will turn white and she’ll be the size of a buick. at least at the moment you can still enjoy the half cow skull that a dog brought home years ago that lives behind her.

blue impression will be another dino. this is a young plant and has already doubled in size from last year.

this one, whose name escapes me at the moment, is a more ruly and streamlined blue.

blue mountain hasn’t even poked up out of the dirt yet and mine keeps getting flattened by dogs or run over by the lawnmower, but it’s still alive! hostas are marvels of that whole lazarus deal.

this little cloudy, blue-tinged variety has white flowers on stocky little stocks. on the right is a photo from last year, taken 24 hours before the deer mowed her to the ground.

i got this one because the old ma loved its perky little leaves. turns out it has dark purple flowers, which is how i learned to love it, too.

and just to sour the whole thread, i even have one of those ghastly white edged landscaper’s curses. enjoy your weeds, you boring asshole hosta. i still love you.