I have an idea for next year's garden, inspired by some plants that volunteered to grow in my yarden, probably thanks to the birds.
A stretch of yarden along the sidewalk is featuring unexpected sunflowers and morning glories. The sunflowers are tall, erect on sturdy stiff stems. The morning glories clamor over all the other plants in the space in a haphazard, opportunistic manner. The result is a waterfall of deep purple morning glory glooms cascading over the bright yellow rudbeckia and vibrant yellows of sunflowers.

Next year, I shall plant sunflowers along the eastern edge of my yarden, and morning glories beneath. The east edge is under a sparse branched white pine. The area receives hours and hours of sun, but by August, the plants that grew beneath the pine appear scorched and worn. In spring and early summer, the ground ivy, dandelions, peonies, plantain, and purple dead nettle all fare well. But July and August wears them down quick, which is just the time sunflowers and morning glories begin to com into their own.
So, the succession from one group of plants to the next affords lasting beauty and food for pollinators, and a privacy screen from neighbors.
Yippee! I love it when I observe nature, learn from its wisdom, and am able to support wellness of self and world by replicating what I have learned.