Where there is Hope there is Life

Alas this is not always the case but it is not a bad maxim for gardeners when contemplating their rather dead looking plants, the result of our recent very cold winter. Here our many ceanothus including the bog standard C.repens looked particularly dead, as did rather less surprisingly various eucalyptus. My Luma apiculata, already struggling on account of secheresse, lost all its leaves, as did my Melianthus major. As for the cannas, dahlias and Hedychiums, which only partly out of laziness, I leave in the ground, I was not too hopeful that I would be seeing them again, but in fact hope is what is needed.

I hardly dare to recollect how many plants I have killed over the years by pulling them out because I had given up hope of them being alive. One of the problems is of course that a dead looking plant is not an attractive sight, especially if it is a large subject such as a mimosa or bay tree. Recently I was at Blagnac airport where at about two years ago it was decided to plant the surrounding 'park' with a wide selection of eucalyptus At the time it seemed to me a slightly risky choice not only because of the possibility of death from cold, but also wind: they have tendency to grow too fast for their own good so that there is not sufficient root system to cope with the top heavy growth.  Still it was bad luck that they had to put up with our very rare dangerously cold winter so soon after after having been planted., The result  is not  a very pretty sight leaving the airport authorities with a difficult decision of whether to remove now, or cut back with the hope that that they may sprout from the base. Last autumn I acquired Eucalyptus mannifera maculosa recommended for its attractive bark, this of course a feature of many of the species. It is looking very dead at the moment, but I am hanging on in the hope that something might happen.  And I guess it is true that the more tree like the subject the greater the need for patience: I can remember mimosas having looked as dead as the proverbial Dodo waiting until the autumn before showing signs of life.  Meanwhile most of the things I feared for have resurrected themselves including the dahlias and cannas, but not so far the hedychiums.

In old age I suppose I have learnt to be a little more patient, but while reflecting on this it occurred to me to ask a more general question: has gardening made me a better person?  Readers of this blog will know that I am not a great believer in the fashionable belief that all things in nature are beautiful while only man is horrid. Here alas the rabbits are winning the the struggle for life, and I could contemplate happily a world without slugs and snails. To my great regret modern garden is rapidly turning itself into a nature reserve in which we humans have only a very modest role to play: all killing is is out, and indeed any attempt to control nature is frowned upon. Empathy with all living things is the order of the day, and close contact with the soil can only have beneficial effects. In other words the Good Life.

Over the years I have observed a rather different side to gardening.  As with most human activities the spirit of competition seems very present ranging from who can produce the best five decorative dahlias at the local flower show to whose magnolia grandiflora produced the most blooms. Funnily enough I do not think that in the most obvious sense I am competitive being very happy to enjoy other people's gardens, but I am a bit of a garden snob with a preference for the rare whether beautiful or not. As for naked greed, the stampede of 'Hardy Planters' to grab the best or rarest specimens at the opening of a plant fair is something to behold. Despite our attempts at a new brand image I fear we gardeners are not a particularly meritorious lot. What gardening has provided for me is a wonderful way of passing the time. Essentially a selfish occupation but in so far as it makes me happy maybe it makes me a nicer person to know.