I think that it has been a difficult year, like every other year you might well say, but for us the particular difficulties have been caused first of all by the canicule in early July when the temperatures hovered around 35.C. for at least ten days, added to which for the second half of the year there has been a serious lack of rain, only ending last night (20/21st Nov.) when we had 21 mm.Since the 16th July we have had 155 mm when on average we should have had around 290 mm, but what has been particularly hard is that since the 23rd September we have had only 21 mm. As readers of this blog will know I am not a 'believer' in global warming, and while I think about it I would like to express my anger of the sacking of Philippe Verdier from his post of chief meteo man with France 2 who was brave enough to raise awkward questions on the subject in his book, 'Climat Investigation'. In my defence I can point out that here at least 2013 was exceptionally wet, and last year the rainfall was above average. But if in my view the end of the world is not yet with us, what I cannot deny is the fact that for the second half of this year we have been very, very dry.
It is too early to say that as a result we have lost plants. I have been trying to water anything planted in the last two years which in a biggish garden is quite a taxing exercise. Nevertheless somethings have looked very depressed, but only Spring will tell whether they have survived. Almost certainly all the roses have survived, but they have suffered, Amongst the worst sufferers has been Bardou Job chosen by me last year as 'the most beautiful rose in the world'. Sadly I can no longer justify this award, not that I have changed my mind about the beauty of the flower, but if the plant itself looks miserable its beauty does not really compensate. Of course there is this problem with so many roses, especially perhaps with the hybrid teas - beautiful flowers but an ugly bush, especially in winter when there are no leaves to hide the gawky stems. Those roses that have best survived the drought would include most of the old favourites. I have hybrid musks still in flower and looking reasonably well - Buff Beauty, Cornelia, Penelope (and what a doer she is), and Vanity. Some of the David Austins appear to flourish in heat. Here we have Crown Princess Margereta, Jude the Obscure and Pat Austin that have continued to flower well this autumn. On the other hand I am about to remove William Shakespeare 2000 - exquisite flowers but always looking a bit sick, though this in wet as well as dry years. My Chinas and Teas are all still a bit new to give a fair assessment but those that have survived the drought best would include Mrs B.R. Cant, General Schablikine, Le Vésuve and Archiduc Joseph. My favourite rose in 2015 has been Perle d'Or, which Beales call a China, but Becky and John Hook a Polyantha, so I guess that it is the latter. It is a very old favourite from my English gardening days but one which I have been slow to find in France. To quote Quest-Ritson 'its flowers open from small,elegant, vermilion buds and are deep apricot-pink at first, paling to mother-of-pearl from the outside'. Here despite the lack of rain it has flowered almost continuously and there has been plenty of new growth, all of which makes it a candidate for 'Plant of the Year', but it is not in fact the winner.
Neither is the winner a Euphorbia, though almost all seem to have flourished this summer, but then they seem to flourish in almost any weather conditions, except perhaps in a prolonged cold spell. I for instance have lost E.mellifera due to cold. This is sad since it is a very statuesque plant whose flowers do smell of honey, and I shall no doubt try again. I have also grown from seed E.stygiana another imposing plant much featured in the Oxford Botanical Gardens. Plants have survived last winter but then it was not a particularly cold one. Many of you will grow E. wulfeni, or perhaps this should be E.characias subsp. wulfeni. of which there are many hybrids such as 'John Tomlinson' and 'Lambrook Gold'. All in my view are good. One criticism might be that they tend to self-seed a little too freely. Another is that in high summer the flowering stems look ugly and need to be cut down. This does not seem to apply to my current favourite, E.Copton Ash. This is imposing in a rather different way to the above forming a large bush well over a meter in diameter, which seems to be almost permanently in flower, or if they have faded, they fade with a certain elegance, and there seems to be no need to cut anything down.
E. Copton Ash was very nearly this years winner, as indeed if the rules had permitted, was last years winner, Erigeron annuus. Two American ladies visited the garden this summer and were a little surprised to see what they consider to be a weed, under the common name of Eastern Daisy Fleabane. Despite this put down - and after all I gather that in Australia the agapanthus is considered to be a weed - I still rate it very highly. It really does flower all summer, and just when you think it is beginning to look shabby and needs to be cut down it seems to perk up, so it really needs no looking after. True, it does seed itself around, but like the euphorbia mentioned above the new seedlings are very easy to remove, which merely confirms the general rule, that the dangerous 'weeds' are those that spread themselves by underground, or indeed overground roots, such as the dreaded bindweed and ground elder.
So in the end the prize goes to a plant that I used to call, but could never pronounce, Zauschneria, and on looking at various books and catalogues, I see that it can still sometimes be called that, so that I have suddenly become rather confused. I think that I grow two varieties. One is what I call the bog standard, which could be named Epilobium canum subsp. angustifolia, or perhaps just 'canum'. Its common name is Californian Fuchsia, which gives you some idea of the colour and form if you think F. magellanica, i.e. the small flowered hardy fuchsia. More simply it has orange to scarlet flowers on long stems during late summer. It is a perfectly good plant if you do not mind the orange, and its tendancy to droop, this because of its height which can be as much as 80cms. The variety I prefer, and which I am almost certain is E.canum Western Hills is in my view is slightly more scarlet than orange, not so tall so does not droop, has greyer and more attractive foliage, and flowers for a longer period. Mine, if it is indeed 'Western Hills', has been in flower from early July until now, that is to say mid-November. It has been the saviour of our otherwise rather worrying Gravel Garden, of which more another time, and it is because of this I am delighted to name it plant of the year 2015 - even if I have got the name wrong!
Tuesday 24 November 2015
Thursday 27 August 2015
Regrets
Rather unusually for me this year already I have paid two visits to England. As readers of these blogs will know, the first was to visit the Great gardens of Cornwall. My most recent trip was largely London based, but it included sallies into Hampshire, Surrey and Wiltshire - and it is because of these visits that I now have some regrets. There are of course many advantages in living in Gascony, and unlike some expats I like the French and have tried to immerse myself in all things French, the secret being in my view is to do without English TV and radio at least to begin with. But as regards gardening I do have some doubts. For instance I had rather forgotten how good the trees are in England, including those in London, or perhaps especially those in London. I had also forgotten just how attractive many of the modest gardens are, often with one or two unusual plants to admire, and as for 'Great gardens' well they seem to be almost one a penny, including the London Squares, which under the Yellow Book scheme are often open to the public.
One of the gardens I visited this time was Wisley, home of the Royal Horticultural Society. In the past I have been rather sniffy about it. It tries of course to be educational with show gardens of various kinds, including now the ubiquitous Prairie garden à la Piet Oudolf, which reminds me that someone recently very kindly gave me his and Noel Kingsbury's 'Planting: a new perspective' - marvellous pictures but what a boring text. Be that as it may I have to confess that Wisley was looking a million dollars especially the long mixed borders. One of their features was the planting of vaious Hydrangea paniculatas with names such as Big Ben, Dolly, and Greenspire. Do they work out here? Certainly better than the H. macrophyllas, and curiously despite 'canicule' such hydrangeas that I grow have never looked better, but especially my favourite H.aspera villosa. So they are not exactly one of my regrets, and the H.quercifolias are entirely reliable, though I am sure that they grow better in England. Something else looking goodish, though I am yet to be entirely convinced by them, were the Veronicastrums, much beloved by the Prairie gardeners, and indeed they seem to be completely 'tendance'. You might call them a poor man's delphinium with thin spikey flowers in rather pale blues, pinks and whites. Last year I acquired some from 'le Dieu de vivaces', Bernard Lacrouts, but for the moment instead of being over a meter mine are barely 30 cms. This is partly because they are new, but mostly perhaps because they prefer rather more humid conditions in summer than I can provide. And this sadly is true of so many of the mainstays of English borders, yet alone prairies.
If you look down a list of perennials suitable for a mixed border, or indeed a Prairie garden I reckon that more than half would prefer more humid conditions than most of us out here can provide. I have mentioned my failures with the border phloxes, but that is just the start of it. Very fashionable are the eupatoriums, especially the imposing E. purp.Atropurpureum. Now bog standard eupatoriums can be found without difficulty in Gascony, but bog is the key word, which is to say that they will be found close to streams and ponds. They may exist elsewhere, and indeed we have them in our garden, but they reach about 30cms, not over a meter which is the height at which they will make an impact. Almost compulsory in the Prairie garden are the various Persicarias, which I used to call polygonums. Again they will grow with us, but without in my experience ever looking very convincing. I rather like an Astilbe, but for them to look at least halfway decent they will need water. Perhaps even more this is true of the Ligularias with imposing leaves and long spikes of orange/yellow flowers. Much closer to the ground, and still very fashionable are the hostas - and these if you can get them to grow just provide haute cuisine for the slugs and snails.
In another blog I will try and outline herbaceous plants that do grow well with us, and when I say with us I am thinking of people who are either unable or unwilling to provide regular watering programmes. But I will end with a regret concerning plant nurseries. This concerns chiefly those who deal in trees and shrubs - readers of these blogs will know that I am a great fan of Bernard Lacrouts, and I suspect the le jardin de Taurignan are good as well, but even with the vivaces how many Bob Brown's with his Cotswold Garden Flowers are there in France yet alone in Gascony? As for trees and shrubs I have been very taken by the PanGlobal list along with the Burncoose nurseries', both of which will deliver to France, though at a cost. And of course they are just the tip of a very large iceburg. I may well be being unfair to the French nursery trade, but after a long time in France it does seem to me to be rather on the conservative side with new and interesting plants more likely to be found not just in England, but in Holland and Germany. One of the problems may be related to what I was writing above: conditions at least in Gascony must certainly limit the choice of plants. For instance the Woodland plants including azaleas, camellias, magnolias and rhododendrons to mention the most obvious, which must make up a huge portion of the trade in England, are not going to do very well in many parts of Gascony, and therefore there is no point in the nurseries providing them. Still despite all these regrets there is still much fun to be had in gardening in Gascony - if only it would rain right now !
One of the gardens I visited this time was Wisley, home of the Royal Horticultural Society. In the past I have been rather sniffy about it. It tries of course to be educational with show gardens of various kinds, including now the ubiquitous Prairie garden à la Piet Oudolf, which reminds me that someone recently very kindly gave me his and Noel Kingsbury's 'Planting: a new perspective' - marvellous pictures but what a boring text. Be that as it may I have to confess that Wisley was looking a million dollars especially the long mixed borders. One of their features was the planting of vaious Hydrangea paniculatas with names such as Big Ben, Dolly, and Greenspire. Do they work out here? Certainly better than the H. macrophyllas, and curiously despite 'canicule' such hydrangeas that I grow have never looked better, but especially my favourite H.aspera villosa. So they are not exactly one of my regrets, and the H.quercifolias are entirely reliable, though I am sure that they grow better in England. Something else looking goodish, though I am yet to be entirely convinced by them, were the Veronicastrums, much beloved by the Prairie gardeners, and indeed they seem to be completely 'tendance'. You might call them a poor man's delphinium with thin spikey flowers in rather pale blues, pinks and whites. Last year I acquired some from 'le Dieu de vivaces', Bernard Lacrouts, but for the moment instead of being over a meter mine are barely 30 cms. This is partly because they are new, but mostly perhaps because they prefer rather more humid conditions in summer than I can provide. And this sadly is true of so many of the mainstays of English borders, yet alone prairies.
If you look down a list of perennials suitable for a mixed border, or indeed a Prairie garden I reckon that more than half would prefer more humid conditions than most of us out here can provide. I have mentioned my failures with the border phloxes, but that is just the start of it. Very fashionable are the eupatoriums, especially the imposing E. purp.Atropurpureum. Now bog standard eupatoriums can be found without difficulty in Gascony, but bog is the key word, which is to say that they will be found close to streams and ponds. They may exist elsewhere, and indeed we have them in our garden, but they reach about 30cms, not over a meter which is the height at which they will make an impact. Almost compulsory in the Prairie garden are the various Persicarias, which I used to call polygonums. Again they will grow with us, but without in my experience ever looking very convincing. I rather like an Astilbe, but for them to look at least halfway decent they will need water. Perhaps even more this is true of the Ligularias with imposing leaves and long spikes of orange/yellow flowers. Much closer to the ground, and still very fashionable are the hostas - and these if you can get them to grow just provide haute cuisine for the slugs and snails.
In another blog I will try and outline herbaceous plants that do grow well with us, and when I say with us I am thinking of people who are either unable or unwilling to provide regular watering programmes. But I will end with a regret concerning plant nurseries. This concerns chiefly those who deal in trees and shrubs - readers of these blogs will know that I am a great fan of Bernard Lacrouts, and I suspect the le jardin de Taurignan are good as well, but even with the vivaces how many Bob Brown's with his Cotswold Garden Flowers are there in France yet alone in Gascony? As for trees and shrubs I have been very taken by the PanGlobal list along with the Burncoose nurseries', both of which will deliver to France, though at a cost. And of course they are just the tip of a very large iceburg. I may well be being unfair to the French nursery trade, but after a long time in France it does seem to me to be rather on the conservative side with new and interesting plants more likely to be found not just in England, but in Holland and Germany. One of the problems may be related to what I was writing above: conditions at least in Gascony must certainly limit the choice of plants. For instance the Woodland plants including azaleas, camellias, magnolias and rhododendrons to mention the most obvious, which must make up a huge portion of the trade in England, are not going to do very well in many parts of Gascony, and therefore there is no point in the nurseries providing them. Still despite all these regrets there is still much fun to be had in gardening in Gascony - if only it would rain right now !
Wednesday 22 July 2015
Odds and Ends
In an ideal world I suppose a blog should really have a theme but so often when working in the garden various odds and ends come to minds. For instance I do not think that in any of these blogs I have ever mentioned Paulownia tomentosa and yet in terms of growth at any rate it is our most successful tree, in seven years reaching about 5 meters. For those who do not know it it is a deciduous tree with very large leaves and in late Spring violet flowers which stand up rather like a horse chestnuts candelabras, or perhaps a bit like a foxgloves' flowers, hence it is sometimes called the Foxglove tree. There is much to be said for it including its rapid rate of growth, but also the beauty of both its flowers and leaves, but like most things in life it is not perfect. I am still not sure what I think of its large buds which appear in the autumn or the large seed pods which linger on for perhaps rather too long. What I am sure about is that I dislike the fact that its leaves lack autumn colour and when they fall are rather ugly and a pain to sweep up. Incidentally some people will prune it heavily in Spring, as one might do with a buddleja in which case there are no flowers but instead you get an impressive architectural shrub with even larger leaves than on a mature tree and stems that will reach two or three meters in the one year.
Despite the snags I vote in favour of the Paulownia but vote against the Catalpa. In some ways they are rather similar with large leaves and attractive upright flower clusters, though in the catalpa's case they are essentially white with purple and yellow blotches. These arrive in summer, after which things get worse: the flowers turn into haricot beans, which eventually turn black and persist throughout the winter, and there is no autumn colour. It is a tree that grows well enough in our area. There is a hybrid with yellow leaves, at least in the earlier part of the year - C.bignoides Aurea - which is very attractive, that is until the beans arrive, which reminds me to mention that the catalpa's common name is the Indian bean tree. There is also one with variagated leaves, which I have never seen.
I guess all in all there is quite a lot to be said in favour of the catalpas, but they are one of those plants that I am quite happy to see in other people's gardens, but not in my own. On the other hand we do have Chitalpa tashkentensis Pink Dawn, a curious offspring of a marriage between a catalpa and a Chilopsis. This has the flowers of the former, though as the name suggests pink rather than white, but the leaves of the latter, but above all no beans and even some autumn colour.
Another plant that I believe that I have never mentioned is Escallonia Iveyi, which in early summer here was looking lovely, though alas only briefly for the flowers, much loved by bees and other insects, do not last long. The escallonia is a very large family, but it is a plant that I mostly associate with Ireland, and indeed many of the hybrids were produced in the Donard nursery in Co.Down, and this for us is in many ways the problem. They certainly do not want to be too cold, but my experience is that they do not want to be too hot, and certainly not too dry, in these conditions soon showing signs of distress. Escallonia Iveyi is one of the exceptions, thriving in the heat, so that even if the flowering period, as mentioned already, is short its dark green, persistent foliage looks smart enough throughout the year.. Another variety, E.illinata, is also happy in heat, and its leaves smell rather of curry, which if you like curry is obviously an attraction, but I have found it a rather leggy shrub, and I would not rush out to buy it.
I have to confess that there has been a long gap since starting this blog, and I have rather forgotten what other plants I was keen to mention, but surely Buddleja Lochinch was one of them. I have certainly praised it before, but since for about a week as the flowers start coming into colour it ranks for me in the top ten of all shrubs I do not mind mentioning it again, and moreover after its peak of beauty its foliage always looks reasonably smart unlike some others of its family.
Meanwhile for the last month we have been battling with very high temperatures and no rain, at least until the last few days. No doubt some of you will be certain that this is further evidence of global warming. For my part I remind myself that in nearly fifty years of gardening this is by no means the first heatwave I have endured. And I will end with a quote from another keen gardener: "The Country and Parks are so burnt up and Exhausted that there is not a Verdant Spott to be seen, but all looks like the Sunburnt fields of Asia". The date is 1765.
Despite the snags I vote in favour of the Paulownia but vote against the Catalpa. In some ways they are rather similar with large leaves and attractive upright flower clusters, though in the catalpa's case they are essentially white with purple and yellow blotches. These arrive in summer, after which things get worse: the flowers turn into haricot beans, which eventually turn black and persist throughout the winter, and there is no autumn colour. It is a tree that grows well enough in our area. There is a hybrid with yellow leaves, at least in the earlier part of the year - C.bignoides Aurea - which is very attractive, that is until the beans arrive, which reminds me to mention that the catalpa's common name is the Indian bean tree. There is also one with variagated leaves, which I have never seen.
I guess all in all there is quite a lot to be said in favour of the catalpas, but they are one of those plants that I am quite happy to see in other people's gardens, but not in my own. On the other hand we do have Chitalpa tashkentensis Pink Dawn, a curious offspring of a marriage between a catalpa and a Chilopsis. This has the flowers of the former, though as the name suggests pink rather than white, but the leaves of the latter, but above all no beans and even some autumn colour.
Another plant that I believe that I have never mentioned is Escallonia Iveyi, which in early summer here was looking lovely, though alas only briefly for the flowers, much loved by bees and other insects, do not last long. The escallonia is a very large family, but it is a plant that I mostly associate with Ireland, and indeed many of the hybrids were produced in the Donard nursery in Co.Down, and this for us is in many ways the problem. They certainly do not want to be too cold, but my experience is that they do not want to be too hot, and certainly not too dry, in these conditions soon showing signs of distress. Escallonia Iveyi is one of the exceptions, thriving in the heat, so that even if the flowering period, as mentioned already, is short its dark green, persistent foliage looks smart enough throughout the year.. Another variety, E.illinata, is also happy in heat, and its leaves smell rather of curry, which if you like curry is obviously an attraction, but I have found it a rather leggy shrub, and I would not rush out to buy it.
I have to confess that there has been a long gap since starting this blog, and I have rather forgotten what other plants I was keen to mention, but surely Buddleja Lochinch was one of them. I have certainly praised it before, but since for about a week as the flowers start coming into colour it ranks for me in the top ten of all shrubs I do not mind mentioning it again, and moreover after its peak of beauty its foliage always looks reasonably smart unlike some others of its family.
Meanwhile for the last month we have been battling with very high temperatures and no rain, at least until the last few days. No doubt some of you will be certain that this is further evidence of global warming. For my part I remind myself that in nearly fifty years of gardening this is by no means the first heatwave I have endured. And I will end with a quote from another keen gardener: "The Country and Parks are so burnt up and Exhausted that there is not a Verdant Spott to be seen, but all looks like the Sunburnt fields of Asia". The date is 1765.
Wednesday 20 May 2015
Chapeau !
Whenever I am feeling a little depressed about gardening in Gascony in general or about our garden in particular I make my way to La Coursiana, a garden run and owned by Véronique and Arnaud Delannoy at Le Romieu. This I did last weekend, and I can only say that I have never seen it looking so good. Readers of my last blog will know that I have just returned from visiting the 'Great Gardens of Cornwall', and to that I think one can reasonably add 'of the World', so some comparisons were inevitable, even if, despite its very many trees, of which more later, one cannot call La Coursiana a 'Woodland garden', which is what the Cornish gardens are. How should one classify it? Well it is certainly not 'French' for there is not a sign of a clipped hedge anywhere. There is a 'water feature' with what might be called a mini cascade, but since it turns out to be a very cleverly designed herb/medicinal garden it does not bear much relationship to the formal château gardens, of which Versailles is the great example. The feel I guess is rather 'English' though there is no herbaceous or mixed border as such, just literally hundreds of plants of every description, arranged around the rather modest but attractive house, in Island beds, and under trees. If this sounds a bit messy, it is saved from that criticism by two ingredients. The first is its site with on what I guess must be the east side a lovely view across a small lake of the Collegiate Church of Saint Pierre.
The second ingredient is Véronique Delannoy's wonderful sense of colour and more generally a great skill in the placing of plants. The result is through the year a succession of planting of annuals, or biannuels such as Forget-me-knots, Hollyhocks, Impatiens and Dahlias to name just the most obvious, these in often vibrant colours. At the moment it is rose time. I was told that there are more than five hundred different roses to be found in the garden, and I can well believe it, though I have just noticed that the pamphlet states only 350!. What is perhaps the most striking feature of these is the eclectic choice. I have never hidden the fact that I am something of a plant snob, and this applies particularly to roses, where anything post the Second World war is viewed with great suspicion. At La Coursiana one will find all manner of roses both ancient and modern, even roses produced by - I hardly dare mention their names - Delbard and Meilland. And as for their names, they are not ones that any self-respecting rosarian would want to mention. But what this garden shows is just how silly I have been. In fact some time ago I fell in love with R.Lovely Lady - semi-double blush pink flowers on a tallish bush; repeats well - and this time it was R. Bossa Nova - pink again, but this time fully double. Both date from the 1980s. Much more recent is R. Yann Arthus-Bertrand, a fully in the face Meilland orange/red. Much admired by Véronique Delannoy is R.Line Renaud with large hybrid tea flowers of a darkish red, but as its great feature a marvellous scent - and this is perhaps a good moment to stress that the idea that modern roses lack scent is a myth. One has only got to think of the many David Austin roses almost all of which excel in this department.. Finally amongst the hundreds of different roses there is a climber that I would love to have, if only I could think of where to put it - we seriously lack high walls. It is as its name, R.Papi Delbard, indicates a Delbard rose with large fully double, old-fashioned abricot/yellow flowers with a strong scent that repeats well.
Of course there is much more to La Coursiana than just roses or indeed wonderful mixed planting. It started life back in the 1970s as a serious arboretum, the inspiration of an eminent botanist Gilbert Cours-Darne, with inter alia a national collection of Tilias (limes). Thus anyone interested in planting trees should first pay a visit to this garden, with just this caveat that I guess it has a little more access to water than some of us can provide, and also I believe that the soil has some acidity, at least in certain areas, and this again is difficult to find at least in some parts of Gascony. A tree that goes back to the 1850s is a marvellous specimen of a Quercus robur, or English oak, and it is worth visiting the garden just to see it. At the back of the main house is a very good example of an Aesculus californica, and finally what was in full flower when I was there, a Styrax japonicus covered in bell-shaped white flowers. I have tried various members of the Styrax family - I am particularly fond of S.obassia - but without success, I guess because I have not provided enough water, but clearly they can be grown.
I have no hesitation in calling La Coursiana a Great Garden. One of the many reasons for doing so is that when you look around it almost every plant looks contented, a feature that takes me back many years to my first visit to Sissinghurst, and I can hardly pay this garden a greater compliment. It also provides excellent home-made sorbets, but if I have one regret it is that there are no 'cream teas', or indeed no home-made cakes which was one of the great features of my visit to the Cornish gardens. I blame Marie Antoinette for the lack of good cake in France, but surely it is time for the French to forgive and forget, so that this great gap in French cuisine can be remedied.
The second ingredient is Véronique Delannoy's wonderful sense of colour and more generally a great skill in the placing of plants. The result is through the year a succession of planting of annuals, or biannuels such as Forget-me-knots, Hollyhocks, Impatiens and Dahlias to name just the most obvious, these in often vibrant colours. At the moment it is rose time. I was told that there are more than five hundred different roses to be found in the garden, and I can well believe it, though I have just noticed that the pamphlet states only 350!. What is perhaps the most striking feature of these is the eclectic choice. I have never hidden the fact that I am something of a plant snob, and this applies particularly to roses, where anything post the Second World war is viewed with great suspicion. At La Coursiana one will find all manner of roses both ancient and modern, even roses produced by - I hardly dare mention their names - Delbard and Meilland. And as for their names, they are not ones that any self-respecting rosarian would want to mention. But what this garden shows is just how silly I have been. In fact some time ago I fell in love with R.Lovely Lady - semi-double blush pink flowers on a tallish bush; repeats well - and this time it was R. Bossa Nova - pink again, but this time fully double. Both date from the 1980s. Much more recent is R. Yann Arthus-Bertrand, a fully in the face Meilland orange/red. Much admired by Véronique Delannoy is R.Line Renaud with large hybrid tea flowers of a darkish red, but as its great feature a marvellous scent - and this is perhaps a good moment to stress that the idea that modern roses lack scent is a myth. One has only got to think of the many David Austin roses almost all of which excel in this department.. Finally amongst the hundreds of different roses there is a climber that I would love to have, if only I could think of where to put it - we seriously lack high walls. It is as its name, R.Papi Delbard, indicates a Delbard rose with large fully double, old-fashioned abricot/yellow flowers with a strong scent that repeats well.
Of course there is much more to La Coursiana than just roses or indeed wonderful mixed planting. It started life back in the 1970s as a serious arboretum, the inspiration of an eminent botanist Gilbert Cours-Darne, with inter alia a national collection of Tilias (limes). Thus anyone interested in planting trees should first pay a visit to this garden, with just this caveat that I guess it has a little more access to water than some of us can provide, and also I believe that the soil has some acidity, at least in certain areas, and this again is difficult to find at least in some parts of Gascony. A tree that goes back to the 1850s is a marvellous specimen of a Quercus robur, or English oak, and it is worth visiting the garden just to see it. At the back of the main house is a very good example of an Aesculus californica, and finally what was in full flower when I was there, a Styrax japonicus covered in bell-shaped white flowers. I have tried various members of the Styrax family - I am particularly fond of S.obassia - but without success, I guess because I have not provided enough water, but clearly they can be grown.
I have no hesitation in calling La Coursiana a Great Garden. One of the many reasons for doing so is that when you look around it almost every plant looks contented, a feature that takes me back many years to my first visit to Sissinghurst, and I can hardly pay this garden a greater compliment. It also provides excellent home-made sorbets, but if I have one regret it is that there are no 'cream teas', or indeed no home-made cakes which was one of the great features of my visit to the Cornish gardens. I blame Marie Antoinette for the lack of good cake in France, but surely it is time for the French to forgive and forget, so that this great gap in French cuisine can be remedied.
Wednesday 6 May 2015
Five winners for a Gascon Spring
Readers of these blogs will know that I am not a great fan of Springtime in Gascony, certainly not a patch on English springs, and a recent visit to the 'great gardens of Cornwall' has only reinforced my view. Of course these gardens, many of them well over a hundred years old, are exceptional. Everything there conspires - climate, acid soil, and deep valleys running down to the sea - to produce really dramatic effects, with azealeas, camellias, magnolias, and rhododendrons leading the charge, not to mention a thousand tree ferns. Here some of us can do camellias and magnolias but even these with some difficulty, so what are we left with for the Spring offensive.
Well first and foremost I would recommend is Prunus x subhirtella 'Autumnalis', which in fact with me never flowers in the autumn, but intermittently during the Winter - it is often called the Winter Flowering Cherry - but with a final burst in early Spring. There is a white and pink version, both to my mind equally good. And apart from the flowers it also makes an attractive tree, with often good autumn colour. There is a view that, apart from the ubiquitous Prunus cerasifera Pissardi with its masses of pink flowers in early Spring followed by purple leaves, Flowering cherries do not do here, but all I can say is that my 'Winter Flowering Cherry' have always flourished. As for P.Pissardi it cannot be denied that when in full flower it is very attractive, but the purple leaf, which one might think would be a plus, turns out to be rather dull and heavy which prevents it ever being in my top five. I have tried more than once P. Tai Haku, the Great White Cherry, but it has never looked especially happy. More successful has been P.Shirofugen, with pink buds and opening to fully double white flowers, and in fact I would strongly recommend it, even if it cannot quite make the top five.
Quite different is the Winter flowering honeysuckle. There is nothing particularly attractive about its shape or leaf colouring: it is just a bush. But when in flower its scent makes it a must: no need to put your nose to it; its fragrance will seek you out. There are essentially two versions: Lonicera fragrantissima and L. x purpusii. I think that I have always grown the former, but then I am not sure that I can tell the difference, but one or the other has to be included
One of the great glories of an English Spring are the bulbs, starting with snowdrops, and going on through crocus, daffodils and narcissus, tulips and on to blue bells. I have found all these bulbs difficult. Some seven years ago I planted over three hundred snowdrops. This year I couild not find one ! My daffodils at least do not die, but they do not increase, or if they do only very slowly. I do not recommend the so-called English bluebell - Scilla nutans - though having seen thousands in Cornwall I have to admit that they are probably more attractive than the Spanish - S.campanulata. But they do not like our heat, and if what you are wanting is a blue carpet the Spanish will do very well. The best bet , though more a corm than a bulb, is Cyclamen coum. These come will all sorts of leaf patterns , including a very smart silver- leafed one, and a colour range of a very deep purle through to white. They seem to like our climate, no animal seems to like eating them, and they multiple quite quickly. So I am going to put them in my top Five.
Much of our Spring colour is provided by the many fruiting trees, starting with almonds, peaches and pears and ending with the apples. All these are beautiful in flower, and I guess that I grow them more for their flowers than their fruits, since what with the birds, the diseases and and the many insects I never seem to end up with a very good crop. The pink of a peach is wonderful, but for sheer flower power a cherry is very hard to beat, which of course raises the question mentioned above of why one sees so few of the decorative cherries. In the wild are the buckthorns - Rhamnus cathartica - and the hawthorns - Crataegus monogyna. The latter is a very large family and I suspect very underused here, people perhaps being put off by their thorns, or perhaps even more likely because very few varieties are readily available. For me the most attractive all the year round crataegus is the so-called Washington Thorn - C.phaenopyrum, but it is its autumn tints rather than its Spring flowers that makes it a winner. But for a 'Gosh factor' in Spring C.Paul's Scarlet is very hard to beat and for that reason I am going to put it in my top Five - and moreover various nurseries, including Ets Spahl, and garden centres supply it.
I would love to have included a magnolia, one of my favourite trees, and of course to be seen at their absolute best in the Cornish gardens that I have just visited. When I first came to SW France I was rather optimistic about growing them here, and in a garden close to the Pyrenees they did indeed grow with some success, including some of the newish varieties such as M. Manchu Fan and M.peppermint stick. But on moving away from the mountains I have become less optimistic. We do grow some including one of my absolute favourites, M.Star Wars with its deep pink flowers of some size, but I cannot say that they are very happy. I guess that the M. soulangeana varieties, of which there are many, are the ones to go for here, despite the fact that in some people's eyes they have been rather overtaken by the rush of new hybrids developed in the second half of the last century especially in California and New Zealand. They seem to put up with our clay soil and hot summers better than most, but until I have greater success with them I cannot put them in my top Five.
So lastly the early buddleyas. B.officinalis is fine enough, and is certainly very floriferous but the flowers are of a rather too pale lilac for my liking and the growth is very upright which makes it a rather gawky bush or small tree. Much more attractive is a near relation, B.officinalis Vicomte de Noailles.There is something of a mystery about this plant. I acquired mine from the great buddleya specialists at le Jardin de Rochevieille, but on searching the net I failed to find any reference to it - a rosemary named after the Vicomte, and also a camellia sasanqua, but no buddleja. I also failed to find it in my admittedly out of date 'Plant Finder', but neither in the very recent new edition of Hillier's 'Trees and Shrubs', so I am just beginning to wonder whether it really exists. Mine certainly does. It flowers at about the same time as my B.officinalis, which is early Spring, but the flowers are of a much deeper lilac/purple, and rather than being stiff as is the case with most buddleyas they droop in what I think is a most attractive way. So much in love am I with this shrub that not only do I include it in my top five for a Spring garden, but I would put it in my top five, all seasons included.
P.S. Since writing this I have been in touch with Le jardin de Rochevielle and they tell me that they are probably the only nursery to produce B.off. Vicomte de Noailles which they found in the famous garden of that name. They are present at the Gaujacq Fairs and I can only strongly recommend a purchase of this wonderful shrub.
Well first and foremost I would recommend is Prunus x subhirtella 'Autumnalis', which in fact with me never flowers in the autumn, but intermittently during the Winter - it is often called the Winter Flowering Cherry - but with a final burst in early Spring. There is a white and pink version, both to my mind equally good. And apart from the flowers it also makes an attractive tree, with often good autumn colour. There is a view that, apart from the ubiquitous Prunus cerasifera Pissardi with its masses of pink flowers in early Spring followed by purple leaves, Flowering cherries do not do here, but all I can say is that my 'Winter Flowering Cherry' have always flourished. As for P.Pissardi it cannot be denied that when in full flower it is very attractive, but the purple leaf, which one might think would be a plus, turns out to be rather dull and heavy which prevents it ever being in my top five. I have tried more than once P. Tai Haku, the Great White Cherry, but it has never looked especially happy. More successful has been P.Shirofugen, with pink buds and opening to fully double white flowers, and in fact I would strongly recommend it, even if it cannot quite make the top five.
Quite different is the Winter flowering honeysuckle. There is nothing particularly attractive about its shape or leaf colouring: it is just a bush. But when in flower its scent makes it a must: no need to put your nose to it; its fragrance will seek you out. There are essentially two versions: Lonicera fragrantissima and L. x purpusii. I think that I have always grown the former, but then I am not sure that I can tell the difference, but one or the other has to be included
One of the great glories of an English Spring are the bulbs, starting with snowdrops, and going on through crocus, daffodils and narcissus, tulips and on to blue bells. I have found all these bulbs difficult. Some seven years ago I planted over three hundred snowdrops. This year I couild not find one ! My daffodils at least do not die, but they do not increase, or if they do only very slowly. I do not recommend the so-called English bluebell - Scilla nutans - though having seen thousands in Cornwall I have to admit that they are probably more attractive than the Spanish - S.campanulata. But they do not like our heat, and if what you are wanting is a blue carpet the Spanish will do very well. The best bet , though more a corm than a bulb, is Cyclamen coum. These come will all sorts of leaf patterns , including a very smart silver- leafed one, and a colour range of a very deep purle through to white. They seem to like our climate, no animal seems to like eating them, and they multiple quite quickly. So I am going to put them in my top Five.
Much of our Spring colour is provided by the many fruiting trees, starting with almonds, peaches and pears and ending with the apples. All these are beautiful in flower, and I guess that I grow them more for their flowers than their fruits, since what with the birds, the diseases and and the many insects I never seem to end up with a very good crop. The pink of a peach is wonderful, but for sheer flower power a cherry is very hard to beat, which of course raises the question mentioned above of why one sees so few of the decorative cherries. In the wild are the buckthorns - Rhamnus cathartica - and the hawthorns - Crataegus monogyna. The latter is a very large family and I suspect very underused here, people perhaps being put off by their thorns, or perhaps even more likely because very few varieties are readily available. For me the most attractive all the year round crataegus is the so-called Washington Thorn - C.phaenopyrum, but it is its autumn tints rather than its Spring flowers that makes it a winner. But for a 'Gosh factor' in Spring C.Paul's Scarlet is very hard to beat and for that reason I am going to put it in my top Five - and moreover various nurseries, including Ets Spahl, and garden centres supply it.
I would love to have included a magnolia, one of my favourite trees, and of course to be seen at their absolute best in the Cornish gardens that I have just visited. When I first came to SW France I was rather optimistic about growing them here, and in a garden close to the Pyrenees they did indeed grow with some success, including some of the newish varieties such as M. Manchu Fan and M.peppermint stick. But on moving away from the mountains I have become less optimistic. We do grow some including one of my absolute favourites, M.Star Wars with its deep pink flowers of some size, but I cannot say that they are very happy. I guess that the M. soulangeana varieties, of which there are many, are the ones to go for here, despite the fact that in some people's eyes they have been rather overtaken by the rush of new hybrids developed in the second half of the last century especially in California and New Zealand. They seem to put up with our clay soil and hot summers better than most, but until I have greater success with them I cannot put them in my top Five.
So lastly the early buddleyas. B.officinalis is fine enough, and is certainly very floriferous but the flowers are of a rather too pale lilac for my liking and the growth is very upright which makes it a rather gawky bush or small tree. Much more attractive is a near relation, B.officinalis Vicomte de Noailles.There is something of a mystery about this plant. I acquired mine from the great buddleya specialists at le Jardin de Rochevieille, but on searching the net I failed to find any reference to it - a rosemary named after the Vicomte, and also a camellia sasanqua, but no buddleja. I also failed to find it in my admittedly out of date 'Plant Finder', but neither in the very recent new edition of Hillier's 'Trees and Shrubs', so I am just beginning to wonder whether it really exists. Mine certainly does. It flowers at about the same time as my B.officinalis, which is early Spring, but the flowers are of a much deeper lilac/purple, and rather than being stiff as is the case with most buddleyas they droop in what I think is a most attractive way. So much in love am I with this shrub that not only do I include it in my top five for a Spring garden, but I would put it in my top five, all seasons included.
P.S. Since writing this I have been in touch with Le jardin de Rochevielle and they tell me that they are probably the only nursery to produce B.off. Vicomte de Noailles which they found in the famous garden of that name. They are present at the Gaujacq Fairs and I can only strongly recommend a purchase of this wonderful shrub.
Thursday 22 January 2015
Small is Beautiful
When writing in my previous blog about my love affair with the oak I had not really space to say anything about the actual planting of them. Moreover as readers of these blogs will appreciate I am very reluctant to write anything very much about gardening technics. I have never had any formal garden training and have never become remotely an expert in such matters. What I now have is rather too many years of actual gardening behind me, and inevitably one learns a little from ones successes and failures. I also sometimes think that I am quite a lazy gardener, but especially when it comes to planting trees and shrubs. My holes are never very large, neither are they filled with wonderful compost, but then the subjects that I am planting are practically never very large, which brings me to the title of this blog.
I have often wondered whether if I was very rich my approach to gardening would be very different. Presumably I would have many gardeners at my disposal so my laziness would not be an issue. Moreover I could actually afford to buy very large, even mature trees and an instant garden might become a reality. And of course the obvious advantage of planting large is that you can get an immediate effect, and thus avoid the criticism of one visitor to a garden I was involved in when she remarked "Ah, I see that you are still in the pygmy stage". But whether rich or poor there are serious disadvantages in planting big. The staking has got to be much more important, and if, as I often do, one plants trees that are not even 50cms one can avoid staking altogether. Secondly, but perhaps even more importantly a large tree will require significantly more amounts of water over a longer period. Again, if wealthy, these problems can be overcome, though serious staking is never very attractive. A problem that money cannot solve is that your choice of tree is more limited. The larger the tree the bigger the investment required, but also significantly more space, and thus a nursery needs to be confident that it will find a buyer. Here in S-W France we have been lucky in having Jacques Urban's Florama providing a very large choice of very young trees, though the sad news is that he seems to be cutting down on his stock quite considerably.
Much easier to find are trees of say 1.50 to 2 meters high, and I guess that their purchase is the best compromise. That said a 2 meter tree is still significantly more expensive than one of 30cms. It probably will need staking and it will need more watering in its early years. In a previous garden we experimented with the planting of two oaks, one 30cms and the other 2 meters. In four years the smaller tree had outgrown its rival, though after that period the growth rate remains the same, the point of course being that the bigger the newly planted tree the longer it takes to establish itself, while the smaller tree quickly grows away. So if you can wait three or four years plant small and save yourselves money and worry.
Meanwhile at what is increasingly becoming my favourite tree and shrub nursery run by Hélène and Franz Spahl in the Gers near Jegun a viburnum that was new to me caught my eye. Its name is Viburnum Le Bois Marquis. Hilliers calls it persistent, though I guess semi-persistant might be more accurate, but at any rate what seduced me was its vibrant autumn colour of a reddish hue, and this, because it does not lose its leaves easily, over a long period. Moreover I am promised fragrant white flowers and bright red fruits so what more could one ask for ! Less dramatic but attractive enough is a certainly persistent viburnum. V.propinquum is similar to the much more common V.tinus, but smarter in that its leaves are glossy, shown to advantage by their bright red stems. Its flower power is probably less than V.tinus and anyway appears much later in the year which is not an advantage - the great attraction of the V.tinus it that it is almost winter flowering, and thus has very little to compete with. Still all three viburnums are worth having, but Le Bois Marquis is a real winner.
I have often wondered whether if I was very rich my approach to gardening would be very different. Presumably I would have many gardeners at my disposal so my laziness would not be an issue. Moreover I could actually afford to buy very large, even mature trees and an instant garden might become a reality. And of course the obvious advantage of planting large is that you can get an immediate effect, and thus avoid the criticism of one visitor to a garden I was involved in when she remarked "Ah, I see that you are still in the pygmy stage". But whether rich or poor there are serious disadvantages in planting big. The staking has got to be much more important, and if, as I often do, one plants trees that are not even 50cms one can avoid staking altogether. Secondly, but perhaps even more importantly a large tree will require significantly more amounts of water over a longer period. Again, if wealthy, these problems can be overcome, though serious staking is never very attractive. A problem that money cannot solve is that your choice of tree is more limited. The larger the tree the bigger the investment required, but also significantly more space, and thus a nursery needs to be confident that it will find a buyer. Here in S-W France we have been lucky in having Jacques Urban's Florama providing a very large choice of very young trees, though the sad news is that he seems to be cutting down on his stock quite considerably.
Much easier to find are trees of say 1.50 to 2 meters high, and I guess that their purchase is the best compromise. That said a 2 meter tree is still significantly more expensive than one of 30cms. It probably will need staking and it will need more watering in its early years. In a previous garden we experimented with the planting of two oaks, one 30cms and the other 2 meters. In four years the smaller tree had outgrown its rival, though after that period the growth rate remains the same, the point of course being that the bigger the newly planted tree the longer it takes to establish itself, while the smaller tree quickly grows away. So if you can wait three or four years plant small and save yourselves money and worry.
Meanwhile at what is increasingly becoming my favourite tree and shrub nursery run by Hélène and Franz Spahl in the Gers near Jegun a viburnum that was new to me caught my eye. Its name is Viburnum Le Bois Marquis. Hilliers calls it persistent, though I guess semi-persistant might be more accurate, but at any rate what seduced me was its vibrant autumn colour of a reddish hue, and this, because it does not lose its leaves easily, over a long period. Moreover I am promised fragrant white flowers and bright red fruits so what more could one ask for ! Less dramatic but attractive enough is a certainly persistent viburnum. V.propinquum is similar to the much more common V.tinus, but smarter in that its leaves are glossy, shown to advantage by their bright red stems. Its flower power is probably less than V.tinus and anyway appears much later in the year which is not an advantage - the great attraction of the V.tinus it that it is almost winter flowering, and thus has very little to compete with. Still all three viburnums are worth having, but Le Bois Marquis is a real winner.
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