The hardest thing to explain to a new homeowner in Newport or Jamestown is that their property has a microclimate, and it is not the one on the plant tag. Salt spray carries hundreds of feet inland on a southwest wind. Winter wind desiccates evergreen foliage faster than cold ever will. And a lot of coastal ground here is thin soil over ledge, which drains fast in July and stays soggy in March.
The material that reliably holds up on exposed lots is a shorter list than people expect: bayberry, beach plum, rugosa rose, inkberry, juniper, little bluestem, switchgrass, and shore-hardy hydrangeas set where they get some shelter. Most of it is native or near-native, which is not a coincidence — it has been getting hit by this wind for a very long time.
Two or three streets inland, behind a house or a fence line, the palette opens up considerably. That's where boxwood, azalea, Japanese maple, and the softer ornamentals stop being a gamble. The mistake is assuming the whole town shares one plant list; a Bellevue Avenue courtyard and an Ocean Drive frontage are genuinely different growing environments.
Two practical rules. First, plant in fall or early spring so roots establish before the wind season, and water deeply through the first full year — new plantings die of drought far more often than of cold. Second, shape hedges to shed wind rather than catch it: a slightly tapered face sheds a January gust, while a flat wall of foliage tears open at the top and never fully recovers.
If you're unsure what your particular lot can carry, have someone walk it before you buy plants. A fifteen-minute site read is cheaper than replacing a border in year two.