I lost a big tree in my backyard this winter. Now, after years of whining about the lack of sun on my deck, I can plant whatever I want in my pots.
So I planted coleus. Again, just as I have for the last five or six years.
I am in love with coleus. The newer varieties can take sun and never need deadheading. While they can't take frost or hail, they're surprisingly durable, unfussy plants that provide summer-long interest just with their leaves. And they look great combined with other foliage plants that tumble from containers.

I am always amused by coleus names, which are often over the top. One of my favorites, a burgundy-orangish plant with yellow-edged leaves, goes by the terrible name "Texas Parking Lot." The same cultivar is sold as "Alabama Sunset" and under a couple of other names that all convey the idea of heat.
Whatever. It's the riotous colors I love. This year I filled my pots with "Sedona," "Twist and Twirl," "Religious Radish," "Pink Chaos," "Royal Glissade," "Pineapple," "Merlin's Magic" and "Limon's Blush." Combined with trailing yellow or maroon sweet potato vine or silvery licorice plant, you can't go wrong.
I also bought petunias for a container, a new variety that supposedly had red flowers with a yellow edge. Why not try something new, I thought. The buds opened a couple of days after I got the plants home. The enormous flowers are stop-sign red with a white edge. Stuffed in the flat with my coleus, it looked like a clown had crashed the party of my sleek and elegant friends.
Never one to waste a plant, I put the red petunias in a pot where the world can see them from the street (and I usually can't). It's the coleus and their friends that will grace my deck again this year.