Maintenance Tips for Ornamental Grasses in Summer

Dear friend,

Summer’s warmth has arrived in full swing, and the garden is humming with life—fireflies after dark, the low thrum of bees in the day, and the gentle rustle of grasses in the evening breeze. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about just how much I appreciate the quiet presence of ornamental grasses in the landscape. They don’t shout for attention. They don’t flash bright blooms or demand pampering. But they move. They shimmer. They catch the light and hold it just long enough for you to notice.

I’ve grown to love them as the backbone of summer gardens—especially here in the Southern Appalachians, where heat and sudden storms are both regular guests. When everything else starts to look a bit worn down in July and August, ornamental grasses often hit their peak—tall, upright, and full of graceful motion.

But as effortless as they may seem, ornamental grasses do benefit from a bit of seasonal care. Not much—nothing like the grooming that roses or annuals require—but just enough to keep them tidy, healthy, and looking like the elegant companions they are.

One thing I’ve noticed is that many grasses take their time waking up in spring. They’ll sit there, seemingly dormant, long after everything else has burst into leaf. But once the warmth settles in and the soil starts to really hold some heat, they shoot up like they’re making up for lost time. By June, they’re often well into their summer stride—filling in beds, softening borders, and casting beautiful shadows at the edges of paths and patios.

If you’ve planted larger varieties like miscanthus (Miscanthus sinensis) or switchgrass (Panicum virgatum), you might notice them beginning to lean a bit by midsummer, especially after a heavy rain or a bout of wind. A soft, arching shape can be lovely—but if they’re flopping flat across their neighbors, it might be time to give them a little support.

I’ve used simple green twine to create a loose tie around the middle of a clump—just enough to gather the blades together and encourage upright growth without making it look too stiff. In some beds, I’ve tucked in a small peony hoop or fashioned a subtle stake system using natural materials. Grasses are naturally graceful, so you want to work with their movement, not against it.

Another midseason tip I always pass along: don’t be afraid to give your grasses a bit of a “comb-through.” I’ll run my hands through the clump gently, pulling out any dead or broken blades, especially after storms. You don’t want to shear them back this time of year—not unless something’s badly damaged—but a little grooming keeps them neat and lets more light and air reach the crown.

I’ve found that compact varieties—like dwarf fountain grass (Pennisetum alopecuroides ‘Hameln’), or blue fescue (Festuca glauca)—can especially benefit from this light grooming. With tighter clumps, it’s easy for debris to get caught inside, and a quick tidy-up every few weeks goes a long way.

When it comes to watering, most ornamental grasses are surprisingly forgiving once they’re established. Many, like little bluestem, sideoats grama, or Muhlenbergia capillaris (our beloved pink muhly grass), have deep roots that help them tap into moisture below the surface. That said, during long dry spells—especially in their first year—it’s good to give them a deep soak every 7–10 days.

Mulching around the base of the grasses helps conserve moisture and keeps weed pressure down. I usually go with shredded bark or pine fines, keeping a two- or three-inch layer around each clump but taking care not to smother the crown. Grasses hate having their bases buried in wet mulch—it’s a fast track to rot. Leave a little breathing room, and they’ll reward you for it.

Now let’s talk about feeding.

You might think more fertilizer means more growth, but with grasses, it’s easy to overdo it. Too much nitrogen can lead to lush, floppy blades that collapse under their own weight. Instead, I focus on improving the soil before planting—adding compost or leaf mold to help with structure and nutrients. If a clump is looking pale or struggling, I might apply a small dose of balanced, slow-release fertilizer in early summer—but I always err on the side of less.

Some of the most beautiful grasses in my garden have never received a spoonful of synthetic feed. They thrive simply because the soil is healthy and the site is right.

As the season moves along, many grasses begin to develop seed heads, and that’s when things really start to sing. Whether it’s the bottlebrush plumes of fountain grass or the airy sprays of switchgrass, these seed structures add height, motion, and texture that no flower can quite match.

Birds often take notice, too. I’ve watched goldfinches, sparrows, and even cardinals hopping along the stems, pecking at the seeds, fluttering in and out like little lanterns in the grass. I never mind the nibbling—it’s all part of the ecosystem. In fact, I make a point not to cut back my grasses until very late winter or early spring, just so the birds have shelter and food through the cold months.

And what a gift that becomes—when snow dusts the plumes and the low winter sun casts shadows across a sleeping garden. Ornamental grasses carry the season with dignity, even in dormancy.

That said, if your grasses are encroaching on walkways or crowding out other plants, it’s fine to do a light trim along the edges in summer. Just avoid cutting into the main structure. A few careful snips with shears can keep everything neat without disrupting the natural form.

Sometimes, especially with older clumps, you’ll notice a thinning center—that classic “doughnut” shape. That’s a sign the plant will need dividing next spring. Late winter to early spring is the best time to dig up and split ornamental grasses. It gives them the whole growing season to recover. But if a clump is simply getting too unruly now, trimming the edges or thinning a bit at the base can buy you some time.

As for design, I find that grasses pair beautifully with late-summer perennials. Picture rudbeckia, echinacea, or agastache blooming nearby, their bold flowers rising through a haze of fine blades. Or mix in textural companions like sedums or salvias. The contrast between solid and feathery, upright and arching, creates something dynamic and calming all at once.

And don’t forget containers. Yes—grasses in pots. I’ve grown dwarf miscanthus, blue fescue, and purple fountain grass in large containers with great success. Just be sure to give them good drainage and don’t let them dry out completely. They make wonderful centerpieces for summer container displays and add movement in places where there might not be room for a full bed.

I think what I love most about ornamental grasses is how they move with the wind. You can have the most colorful flower bed in the world, but it’s the grasses that bring motion, rhythm, and sound. They make the landscape feel alive in a way few other plants can.

At dusk, I often find myself sitting on the porch with a glass of something cold, watching the garden settle into its golden hour. The ornamental grasses catch the light like spun silver or golden straw, swaying just so, whispering a little lullaby across the yard. There’s something meditative in that—a softness, a stillness that invites reflection.

So, if your grasses are looking a little wild this June, don’t hesitate to offer a little gentle care. Comb through the clumps, trim where needed, make sure they’ve got enough water to carry them through the next dry spell. And then, step back. Let them do what they do best.

Because grasses aren’t just filler. They’re storytellers. They record the weather, welcome the birds, and dance in the wind like they’ve always known something we don’t.

Until next time, may your garden move with the breeze, and may you find a quiet moment to watch the grasses sway.

Enjoy the summer hush,
Logan

P.S. Want help selecting and maintaining ornamental grasses that will thrive in your landscape? We’d love to assist. Visit Unicorn Farm Nursery & Landscaping to schedule a consultation—and let’s design a garden that sings with the wind.