Shade gardening can be a complicated undertaking. The more I learn about it, the more I feel that I am in the dark.

First, there are a number of distinct categories of shade. Your local nursery may want you to believe that any area emitting more light than the Black Hole of Calcutta can be considered as part of the all-encompassing category of "partial sun," but it is more involved than that. Most experts break things down to four types of areas.

Mottled or Dappled Shade exists when sunlight filters through trees' canopies, delivering a total of 4-5 hours of direct sunlight to the garden.

Open or Northern Shade is when a building or fence casts shadows but there is no overhead blockage of light.

It gets worse. Some plants thrive in any kind of sunlight any way they can get it but not in the particular soil you happen to have. Others do well in partial sun when the light is hitting them in the morning but burn up in the harsher afternoon sun.

Then there are the trees. Some trees block out both sun and rain, creating areas requiring more watering than the rest of the garden. But then too much watering in these and other shady areas can create a pseudo-swamp. The water stagnates because of less evaporation due to the lack of sunlight. Branches and leaves from really dense trees limit air circulation. Roots take over the ground, growing in all directions, (including up for those of you who thought you could fool them with a raised bed).

Besides your own trees, there are those of the neighbors, whose roots and branches heed no property lines. I had always assumed that I could cut down anything and everything hanging into my airspace until my tree removal guy informed me that I could be liable if a neighbor's tree dies from what can be traced to my overly exuberant pruning. The fellow who owns the property behind me never trims anything, then complains about the predictable and total failure of his vegetable crop. In his case, dense applies to much more than the shade.

Even after having a few trees removed, I don't have full sun anywhere in the backyard, and a few areas have dense shade. Although I can add mulch, irrigate, fertilize, and do a bunch of other things to improve the gardening environment, I am not about to move a fence or garage. The acceptance of this reality has engendered in me the serenity to work with the shade rather than curse the darkness. Considering the relatively few plants that thrive in the shade, I've learned to appreciate the texture and shape of leaves, the nuances inherent in different shades of green, rather than expect to be bowled over by bright colors.

I don't even attempt growing vegetables, including leafy things like lettuce and spinach. They bolt from the heat, not from the sun. They won't get a chance to bolt in the shade only because they won't grow.

Ferns, hostas, and a few other perennials work well in the shade, especially after their deep roots get established, thereby requiring less watering. Among the more popular and ubiquitous annuals that seem to do well are begonias, azaleas, salvias, and coleus. For some plants, it's a matter of lowering one's expectations.

I try to see the densely shady areas for what they offer rather than for what they lack. They can be quietly restful places, the tree canopy forming a natural umbrella, perfect for a bench and a few chairs, or a swing set for the kids.

Sometimes being in the dark can be an enlightening experience.