Three years ago, my balcony garden consisted of one half-dead basil plant in a plastic pot and a FEJKA artificial succulent from IKEA that I’d put outside “temporarily” and then left there for an entire summer. I was convinced I was one of those people who just couldn’t keep plants alive. Turns out the problem wasn’t my thumbs — it was that I was buying Mediterranean herbs and putting them in tiny pots on a north-facing balcony in Helsinki, then wondering why they looked miserable by mid-July.
Today I have seventeen containers across my balcony and terrace. Plants that actually thrive. Planters that I chose for how they look, not just what was on sale at Plantagen on the first warm Saturday in May. And a system for keeping everything alive through the chaotic Finnish growing season — where you go from snow in April to 25°C in June to first frost by October.
Here’s everything I’ve figured out, mostly through failure.
Why the Container Matters as Much as the Plant
I know this seems obvious. But for years I grabbed whatever plastic pot was cheapest at the garden center and focused entirely on the plant. The result: a collection of mismatched containers in varying shades of terracotta-adjacent plastic that looked cluttered even when the plants were thriving.
The container is the frame. It determines how people see the plant. A beautiful Heuchera in a €2 black plastic nursery pot looks like a plant you forgot to repot. The same Heuchera in a 35cm concrete bowl looks intentional, designed, like you know what you’re doing. Which, eventually, you will.
Materials I Actually Recommend
Fiber cement (fibercement) is my favorite material for large planters. It’s a mix of cement and fiber reinforcement — lighter than solid concrete, frost-resistant (critical in zone 5), and ages beautifully with a slight patina. My largest planter is a fiber cement cylinder from Bergs Potter, 50cm diameter × 60cm tall, and it cost around €120. It weighs about 12kg empty versus what a solid concrete planter that size would weigh (easily 40kg+). I can still move it when I need to rearrange, which happens at least twice each spring.
Corten steel gives that beautiful rusted-orange surface that pairs incredibly well with ornamental grasses and Scandinavian architecture. I have two corten steel cube planters (30cm × 30cm) that I bought from a Finnish metalwork studio on Etsy for about €85 each. They’re not cheap, but they’re essentially indestructible and the patina only improves over time. The rust does stain light-colored surfaces, though — I learned this the hard way when orange streaks appeared on the pale tiles beneath them. A simple rubber mat underneath solves it.
Glazed ceramic works for medium pots (25-35cm) and adds color without relying on the plants alone. I have a few Bergs Potter glazed pieces in a deep green that picks up the surrounding foliage. Beautiful, but ceramic can crack in hard frosts if water gets trapped, so these come inside or into the storage room by late October.
What I’ve stopped buying: Lightweight plastic pots that blow over in the first June windstorm. Anything labeled “frost resistant” that costs less than €10 (it isn’t, I promise). Terra cotta that isn’t specifically rated for Nordic winters — standard Italian terracotta, however lovely, will crack after one Helsinki winter. I’ve lost three pots learning this.
The Thriller-Filler-Spiller Method (It Actually Works)
I resisted this formula for a while because it sounded like something from a gardening TV show. But once I tried it, I understood why every professional container designer uses it. The concept: every container arrangement needs three types of plants.
Thriller: The Tall Star
This goes in the center or back of the pot. It provides height and structure. My go-to thrillers for Finnish conditions:
Miscanthus sinensis ‘Morning Light’ — an ornamental grass that reaches about 120-150cm in a container. The fine, silvery-edged leaves catch wind beautifully and the movement adds life to the whole terrace. Hardy to zone 4, so it handles Helsinki winters if the container is large enough (minimum 40cm diameter, ideally bigger). I’ve had the same Miscanthus in my large fiber cement planter for three years. Cost was about €18 from Viherlandia.
Calamagrostis × acutiflora ‘Karl Foerster’ — the feather reed grass that stands bolt upright and turns golden in autumn. Slightly more contained than Miscanthus, reaching about 100-130cm. Perfect if your space is narrow. Around €14 at Plantagen.
Thuja occidentalis ‘Smaragd’ for winter interest — a small conical evergreen that provides year-round structure in a larger container. Slow-growing, stays manageable for years in a pot. About €25-35 depending on size.
Filler: The Volume
Plants that fill the middle space with texture, color, or both. I rotate these seasonally:
Spring/early summer: Heuchera ‘Palace Purple’ (dark foliage, incredibly hardy, about €8), Hosta ‘Halcyon’ in shade containers (that blue-green leaf color is stunning against concrete, €10-12).
Midsummer: Salvia nemorosa ‘Caradonna’ for vertical purple spikes (€9), Nepeta ‘Walker’s Low’ for soft blue clouds of catmint that spill slightly (€8). Both are perennials that come back year after year.
Late summer/autumn: Asters, Sedum ‘Herbstfreude’ (about €7), ornamental kale when temperatures drop — kale actually looks better after a light frost.
Spiller: The Trailing Edge
Plants that cascade over the container edge and soften the hard line between pot and surface.
Lysimachia nummularia ‘Aurea’ (golden creeping jenny) — bright chartreuse trails that grow fast and handle Finnish summers well. About €5 for a starter plant at any garden center. This is the single most effective spiller I’ve found for creating that “overflowing abundance” look.
Dichondra ‘Silver Falls’ — silvery trailing foliage that looks ethereal. Technically an annual in Finland, but at €4-5 per plant, I don’t mind replacing it each spring.
Hedera helix (common ivy) — evergreen, extremely tough, and the dark green contrasts beautifully with lighter containers. A 9cm pot costs about €3 and will trail 40-50cm by midsummer.
My Three-Year Balcony Garden Evolution
Year one was chaos. I bought whatever looked pretty at Plantagen on opening weekend in May and crammed it into whatever containers I had. The basil died (too cold, too exposed). The petunias survived but looked scraggly by August because I didn’t deadhead them. The one ornamental grass I bought on a whim — that same Miscanthus I still have — was the only thing that actually looked good by September. That told me something.
Year two I got strategic. I invested in three proper planters — the big fiber cement cylinder and two medium glazed ceramics. I committed to a color scheme (greens, whites, and purple accents) instead of the chaotic rainbow of year one. I learned about soil: outdoor container plants need a different mix than houseplants. I started using a 70/30 blend of Kekkilä professional container soil mixed with perlite for drainage. The difference was immediate — roots stayed healthy, water drained properly, nothing got waterlogged during Helsinki’s rainy August.
Year three (this year, and probably forever in terms of approach): I have a plan on paper before I buy a single plant. I know exactly what goes where, what height I need, what blooms when. I visit Viherlandia in late April to reserve specific plants before the May rush empties the shelves. I have a watering system. I have a feeding schedule. I sound like a completely different person than the one who killed basil three years ago. The transformation was less about skill and more about shifting from impulse to intention.
Self-Watering Containers: A Nordic Necessity
Let me be honest: Finnish summer weather is unpredictable. You can get two weeks of 28°C sunshine in July where containers dry out in a single day, followed by three weeks of grey drizzle where everything sits in moisture. A self-watering system handles both extremes.
I use Lechuza Cubico planters for my two most prominent positions — the entrance and the dining table centerpiece. The Cubico 30 (30 × 30 × 56cm) runs about €65-80 depending on color, and the sub-irrigation system means a water reservoir in the base that plants draw from as needed. I fill the reservoir roughly once a week in hot weather. During rainy stretches, the overflow drainage prevents waterlogging. It’s not glamorous, but losing a €50 planted arrangement to drought or drowning is less glamorous.
For my other containers, I use Blumat ceramic watering cones (about €3.50 each) connected to a gravity-fed water bottle. Simple, cheap, works for 3-5 days of unattended watering. This saved my garden last July when I was at the mökki (summer cottage) for a week and forgot to ask my neighbor to water.
Winter Interest: The Forgotten Season
Most container gardening content assumes you pack everything away in October and start fresh in May. But in Finland, winter lasts roughly five to six months. That’s half the year your containers are visible, doing nothing. Or — if you plan it — they’re still contributing to how your outdoor space looks.
Evergreen structure plants are the foundation. That Thuja ‘Smaragd’ I mentioned stays green and architectural all winter. A small Picea glauca ‘Conica’ (dwarf Alberta spruce, about €15-20) looks like a miniature Christmas tree — which is exactly what I use mine as in December, with a simple string of battery-operated micro-lights.
Dried grasses left standing through winter add movement and texture. I don’t cut my Miscanthus back until early April. Through winter it turns blonde and the seed heads catch frost beautifully. On dark December mornings, when the sun barely clears the horizon, those frosted grass plumes catching the low light are genuinely gorgeous.
Winter containers with cut branches are a Finnish tradition. In November, I fill my largest planter with birch branches, spruce tips, and dried flower heads from hydrangeas. Add a few outdoor LED candles and it looks intentional and seasonal without requiring any living plants to survive -20°C.
Overwintering: The Honest Truth
Some containers can overwinter outside in Helsinki. Some can’t. Here’s how I sort mine:
Stays outside: Large fiber cement and corten steel containers with hardy perennials (anything rated to zone 4 or lower). The key is pot size — the larger the container, the more insulation the root ball has. My 50cm fiber cement planter with Miscanthus stays out. The roots have never frozen through.
Needs protection: Medium glazed ceramic containers go against the house wall (warmest spot), wrapped in bubble wrap and covered with a burlap sack. This raises the effective zone by about one step. I’ve overwintered Heuchera and Hosta this way successfully for two years.
Comes inside: Small pots (under 25cm) and any container with plants that are borderline hardy. These go to the stairwell storage room where temperatures stay around 2-5°C through winter — cold enough for dormancy, warm enough that nothing dies.
The honest truth is that I lose something most winters. Last year it was a Lavandula angustifolia that I thought was established enough to survive outside in a 30cm pot. It wasn’t. The cost of learning: about €12 and a small sense of defeat. This year the replacement lavender goes inside a 45cm container with much more root insulation.
Balcony vs. Terrace: Different Challenges
Most of what I’ve described applies to both, but a few things change if you’re working with a balcony rather than a ground-level terrace.
Weight matters more. Before loading up a balcony with heavy fiber cement planters, check your building’s load rating. Most Finnish apartment balconies handle 250-400 kg/m², but it’s worth confirming. I switched one planned 50cm concrete planter for a lighter fiberglass alternative when I calculated the total weight of soil plus water plus container.
Wind is usually worse on upper-floor balconies. My friend on the seventh floor in Kalasatama loses lightweight items regularly. Her solution: heavy base planters and avoiding anything tall that catches wind. She also uses wire to secure her trellis planter to the railing, which is smart and not visible from below.
Drainage must go somewhere. On a terrace, water drains to the ground. On a balcony, it drains to your downstairs neighbor’s space. Saucers under every pot, and the self-watering containers with internal reservoirs become even more valuable.
Building Soil That Actually Feeds Your Plants
Generic potting soil from the garden center is fine for one season. After that, the nutrients deplete, the structure compresses, and your plants start looking tired around July — exactly when they should be peaking.
My annual routine: in early May, I remove the top 5-8cm of soil from every container and replace it with fresh Kekkilä container mix blended with about 20% Biolan organic compost. The composting guide I wrote covers how I make my own compost now, but before that I bought bagged compost and it worked perfectly fine.
I feed containers every two weeks from June through August with a liquid organic fertilizer (Biobact, available at Plantagen for about €12). Over-feeding is a real risk — I went heavy on nitrogen-rich fertilizer my second year and got enormous leaves but almost no flowers on my Salvia. Balance matters.
Start Small, Think Long
The single best advice I can give: start with three containers. One large thriller pot, one medium combination planter, and one small herb pot near the kitchen. Get those right. Learn what works in your specific microclimate — which corner gets sun, where the wind hits, how fast things dry out. Then expand.
My terrace setup today represents three years of incremental additions and a fair amount of trial and error. The full terrace styling guide covers how the containers fit into the bigger furniture and layout picture, and thinking about the space holistically matters. A beautiful planter arrangement next to a tired plastic chair creates a strange contrast that helps neither element.
And if you’re interested in closing the loop — turning your plant trimmings and kitchen scraps into the compost that feeds your containers — I’ve got a beginner’s guide to composting that covers what I wish I’d known when I started. There’s also a bigger picture around sustainable living at home that container gardening fits into beautifully, even on a small balcony.
The Miscanthus is swaying outside my window right now. Three years ago it was a €18 impulse buy from the back shelf at Viherlandia. Today it’s the anchor of my entire outdoor space. Sometimes the best gardens start with a single good plant in a single good pot.
