This post is adapted from an original article by Krista De Cooke, Director of Partnerships & Strategy at Homegrown National Park. View the full post here.
All photos by Krista De Cooke in East Tennessee.
Est. Read Time: 5 minutes
One of the things we hear often at Homegrown National Park is "I don't have a yard." Or "I rent." Or "I don't know where to start." Container gardening with native plants is one of the best answers we have. As our science lead, Krista De Cooke has been growing native plants in containers for years, not because she lacks space, but because she loves what happens when you do. Here's what she's learned.
One of the plants in my containers took three years to bloom.
In a world where we're used to buying containers overflowing with flowers at the garden center, waiting three years for a bloom sounds ridiculous. But when it finally happened, it was stunning, and it changed how I think about container gardening.
I live in East Tennessee, where winters are relatively mild and rainfall does most of the watering for me. I've been growing native plants in containers for years, and some of my original pots are still going strong today.
My first two containers were glazed ceramic pots. One held calico beardtongue (Penstemon calycosus), and the other held blue flag iris (Iris virginica) and yellow pitcher plant (Sarracenia flava). At the time, I wasn't trying to create the perfect habitat garden. I was simply experimenting.
Why I Grow Native Plants in Containers
Many people are drawn to container gardening because they have limited space: a balcony, a patio, a rented apartment they don't want to over-invest in. Those are all great reasons. But I have a yard. I have planting beds. I can put plants directly in the ground whenever I want.
I still maintain containers because they scratch a different itch. To me, they're self-contained little ecosystems within my larger ecosystem. I love watching how they develop over time. I love seeing which insects find them. I love the challenge of pairing plants and containers in a way that's both beautiful and beneficial to wildlife.
When native plants are growing in containers on my front steps, I don't have to go looking for nature. I encounter it every day.
Calico beardtongue (Penstemon calycosus) emerging, growing, and flowering from February through May
Choosing Plants
When I'm selecting plants for containers, I gravitate toward keystone plants whenever possible. I want every container supporting as much life as it can. That said, I also grow plants simply because I enjoy them.
My biggest advice is to start by observing the conditions you already have and choosing plants accordingly. A full-sun plant isn't going to thrive on a shady balcony. If a plant isn't happy in one spot, move it. Try different exposures, different arrangements, different species. You're not locked into a permanent decision, and the experimentation is part of the fun.
A mix of native plant containers in various sizes and materials at the start of the growing season
Bigger Pots Make Life Easier
One of the biggest lessons I've learned: larger containers are more forgiving.
Some species can survive in one-gallon pots, but most native perennials seem happiest in containers that are at least three to five gallons. Larger, deeper-rooted species often want even more room. I have clustered mountain mint (Pycnanthemum muticum) thriving in a ten-gallon pot. More soil means slower drying and more room for roots to develop.
I prefer plastic or glazed ceramic containers because they retain moisture better. Terracotta works, but it loses water quickly, so you'll need to pay closer attention during hot weather. Most of my containers are watered almost entirely by rainfall. During droughts, or for plants that like consistently moist conditions, I'll occasionally supplement. But I'm not out there with a watering can every day.
Whatever container you choose, make sure it has drainage holes. The one exception is my bog pot, which sits on a pie dish to maintain the wet conditions those plants need.
"One container won't solve the biodiversity crisis, but millions of small actions taken by ordinary people absolutely can."
You Don't Need Fancy Supplies
Container gardening doesn't have to be expensive. Large decorative pots can get pricey fast, but there are plenty of affordable alternatives. Facebook Marketplace, Costco, and simple nursery pots are all good places to start.
For soil, I've mostly used standard potting mix, sometimes amended with perlite to improve drainage. Don't overcomplicate this part. Pay attention to what your plant needs. If it likes dry feet, improve drainage. If it likes moisture, adjust accordingly. The goal is just to avoid putting a drought-tolerant plant into a pot that stays soggy.
Learning Patience
A lot of us are used to buying plants in full bloom, enjoying them for a season, and replacing them the next year. Native perennials often ask for a little more patience.
My various phloxes (Phlox spp.), eastern red columbine (Aquilegia canadensis), and lanceleaf coreopsis (Coreopsis lanceolata) all bloomed in their first year. My blue flag iris (Iris virginica) did not.
It took three years before it flowered.
When it finally did, it was stunning.
And honestly, the wait made me appreciate it more.
So much influences how quickly a plant establishes and blooms: pot size, starting plant size, weather, species. If something doesn't bloom immediately, don't assume you've failed. Give it a chance.
Blue flag iris (Iris virginica) in full bloom
Things I've Learned Along the Way
Not everything goes perfectly, and that's okay. One thing that surprised me is how much some taller species can flop in containers. Plants in the ground often support one another, but in a pot they're sometimes standing alone. My lanceleaf coreopsis (Coreopsis lanceolata) flopped enough that I eventually tied it up.
I also learned that small black nursery pots in full sun can be a problem, something that probably should have been obvious. I nearly cooked a purple coneflower (Echinacea purpurea) that way. It recovered, and it taught me something about pot color, size, and heat. I don't think of moments like that as failures. They're part of figuring out how different plants respond to different conditions.
What I'd Tell Someone Just Getting Started
- Start with one pot.
- Choose a plant that excites you.
- Use a larger container than you think you need.
- Expect some trial and error.
- Give the plant time.
- Pay attention to the life it attracts.
The Best Part
For me, the best part isn't the flowers. It's the relationships. Every time I walk out the front door and see a bumblebee working a bloom, I get a little spark of joy.
"I realized these weren't just containers anymore. They were habitat."
What surprised me most wasn't that the plants survived. It was how quickly wildlife found them. Even with just a handful of containers, bees, butterflies, and other insects showed up. The first time I noticed multiple bee species visiting flowers on my front steps throughout the day, I realized these weren't just containers anymore. They were habitat.
A pollinator departing black-eyed Susan (Rudbeckia hirta) covered in pollen
That shift changed how I looked at them. I stopped seeing containers as decorations and started seeing them as living communities.
That's what I love about native plant containers. They're small, but they're not insignificant. Every pot creates another place for insects to feed, shelter, and interact with the world around them. One container won't solve the biodiversity crisis, but millions of small actions taken by ordinary people absolutely can.
A gray hairstreak butterfly (Strymon melinus) visiting clustered mountain mint (Pycnanthemum muticum)
More than three years later, I still have some of those original containers. Not because I don't have space to plant in the ground, but because I love watching the tiny worlds they've grown into.
If you're thinking about trying native plants in containers, don't worry about getting it perfect. Start small. Pay attention. The insects will find it, you'll learn something, and you might discover that even one pot can become a piece of habitat.
Ready to start? Add your container garden to the Homegrown National Park Biodiversity Map and help us track the impact of every pot, every plant, every pollinator.
