Rabbits encore - and other matters

I am feeling rather guilty that I have gone a whole month without being able to think of anything to write, this at a time when any gardner worthy of the name is totally obsessed with gardening matters. Partly it is that being obsessed I have had no time to sit in front of the computer, and now that one can work until at last 8 pm I end the day too tired to think of much else than getting to bed. I have also been rather depressed. The rapid change from Winter to Spring always catches me unprepared. One minute the ground is too wet and heavy to get on to, and the next minute the weeds are up to one's waist, and one has to get the pickaxe out to eradicate them. At this moment quite frankly my garden is out of control, so it seems rather hypocritical to be offering any comments on gardening matters.

I have however been thinking a little bit about my rabbit problem. This remains - there are hundreds on site - despite the appearance of our very willing head huntsman and his sons - various shots were fired but no injuries to rabbits were reported. For Christmas a friend very thoughtfully gave me a book entitled 'Gardening with the Enemy; a Guide to Rabbit-proof Gardening' by Janet Thomson (ISBN 0 9530013 0X) . It is quite amusing, though in the end not quite as helpful as I had hoped. The problem is that, like humans, rabbits are not entirely predictable so that a plant that might not be eaten in one garden, seems to go down very well in another. For instance, they are not supposed to like aromatic plants, which would include rosemary and fennel, but in my garden both these plants have been attacked, though the former at least not systematically. The truth is that nothing is safe, but especially just after planting. Rabbits, like most of us, are very curious, so whether they actually like the flavour or not, they are eager to give a new plant a try. The result is often a half-eaten plant which has been dug out of the ground and left to die, this very easy for a rabbit to achieve if what has been planted has come out of what is called here a godet, which is to say anything small. So I suppose one bit of advice would be; plant big if at all possible.

In my experience none of what one might call the 'green solutions' work: smells and noises are not in the end an effective deterrent. Serious hunting with ferrets, etc is probably the best solution, though I have so far failed to organize this. Instead I have resorted to a lot of chicken wire, in my view less unsightly than any form of plastic, but not a thing of beauty. Plants that have survived well in my garden would include, among the bulbs the narcissus family, to my great surprise dahlias, which of course slugs adore, and peonies, which incidentally are more or less resistant to every thing, including cold and wind, despite their exotic appearance, and penstemons. It is probably also true that once settled in, leaves with strong flavours are not their favourite fodder. On the other hand all young trees and shrubs, including roses, are possible targets, but especially when first planted.

Meanwhile it is of course an exciting time in the garden, even if much of my planting is hidden by weeds. I saw today a marvellous Exochorda, almost 3 metres high and covered in white blossom. Mine, alas, is about 30cms! What is looking very good at this moment is Buddleja officinalis. I have praised it before, but will do so again, since it is plant that I believe everybody should possess. Reputedly a little tender mine has come through the winter very happily. Less happy is Buddleja agathosma (farreri), also in flower now, and like B officinalis, in the the lilac range, but I suspect that this is due more to summer drought than winter cold. Still well grown it is a beautiful plant. About to flower, this a first for me, is Syringa pekinensis, but what excites me about it is not the flowers which I have yet to see, or indeed to smell - they should be white and smelly - but the form, which is very elegant, unlike the bog standard S. vulgaris with all its many hybrids, which is a pretty dreary shrub when not in flower. Incidentally mine has grown fast, and appears to be problem free.

Do not forget the Plant Fairs, some of which have already happened, but Gaujacq (May 8/9) is yet to happen,while Fources is not this but next weekend. And good luck in your fight against our terrible weeds, and indeed rabbits, if you suffer from them.

Mistakes

One of the few areas of my garden that I can actually get on to during the winter is my so-called gravel garden. It has not been as successful as I had hoped and may even turn out to be a major mistake, though I have not quite got to that conclusion as yet. The rabbits have not helped in that their presence has required that I surround the garden with chicken wire. This is not quite as ghastly as it might seem; chicken wire is far less visible than for instance plastic, which is why I use it to protect newly planted trees, but it clearly does not help to set off the gravel. I was also lazy, or perhaps just a little defeatist: the gravel is placed on top of heavy clay soil in an area which is more or less flat, and it would have been much better to have heavily rotavated or even dug out the area to at least 60 cms before putting down the gravel and in my case peat - and if you want to know how the professionals do it you need to consult Beth Chatto's 'Gravel Garden'. But I do not possess 'subsoilers' or tractors, am of a certain age, and lack the necessary manpower to do what Beth Chatto recommends.My biggest mistake was to my surprise and annoyance the peat. I used it because I did not want anything too rich, since that is what most gravel garden plants dislike. What I did not allow for is that it came with a most obnoxious weeds that runs all over the place and is thus very difficult to eliminate. Almost as obnoxious however is a plant that is very popular in our region and when in full flower is admittedly attractive, the plant being Oenothera speciosa in its various forms ('rosea': 'siskiyou'). I have fallen for it on a number of occasions, but am now busy eliminating it. It is very invasive, for much of the year rather untidy, but perhaps most worryingly it is also a killer, it's prey being the lovely Humming bird moth, whose long tongue gets caught in the flower's throat and cannot escape. I am not as you know very environmentally correct but I do like the Humming bird moth and hate to see it trapped in this way.

Another popular if not to say fashionable plant is the grass, Stipa tenuissima/tenuifolia, what the French call 'cheveux d'ange'. There is much to be said for it, but in my experience it is better in the photographs than in reality where it can, to quote Christopher Lloyd, 'quickly subside into a depressing mush' . It is also quite invasive, though much easier to eliminate that the oenothera. It may be that I have got it in the wrong place. I increasingly think that I want to keep my gravel garden full of much lower and what one might call tidier plants - the small dianthus for instance - and anything bigger needs to be attractive for a long period, with perhaps some shape to it. On my wilder banks the stipa might be just thing, because if it does turn to mush, and of course it does not always, it would not be too noticeable.

Meanwhile one or two plants are making an appearance. In my last blog I sung the praises of Iris unguicularis. Now I would like to mention other species Iris usually grouped under the heading 'reticulata'; In fact my favourite is Iris histrioides George, a marvellous deep purple with yellow markings. I have also got I. reticulata Harmony, attractive enough, but so similar to 'George' that I now see no point in having them both. In previous gardens I have had Iris danfordiae which is yellow, and there are plenty of others to choose from. In England one used to worry abut their survival from year to year, or any rate the probability that they would not clump up. Here there seems to be no worry about this. Mine are definitely on the increase and are a very welcome sight. I have also got the odd crocus out, especially C. tommasinianus, but they are far too rabbit friendly to make much of showing here - in England I seem to remember it was the squirrels that were the danger, and while there is the occasional Red squirrel about, they do not seem to be a danger to gardens in quite the same way as the Grey.

Also out are the Cyclamen coums. I wish I had more. They come in various shades of purple and white, and their leaves, which are round rather than in the case of C. hederifolium heart shaped, come with various patterns, including some that are almost entirely silver. I have said it before but will say it again, if one could only choose one family of bulbs/corms for our region it would surely be the cyclamens.

P.S.

Predictably I found the relevant issue of 'Mon Jardin; ma maison" almost immediately I posted the blog. It is the current (Janvier) issue. The garden I referred to with the oaks is the Arboretum des Pouyouleix. It can be visited sur rendez vous (05 53 62 13 53). The visit will cost you 10€ but for this you get a guided tour of between 2 to 3 hours, which seems very reasonable. Looking again at this issue I am reminded that I must try to acquire Euodia danleillii, which looks an ideal smallish tree for region, and that I ought to look again at the Zanthoxylum - pronunciation? - family.

More of the Same

I think that I was a bit unfair to our resident oaks in my last blog. They can indeed look a muddy yellow, but in certain lights they are very far from that, more golden or perhaps bronze, and certainly glistening. Here they provide a marvellous backdrop to what I hope in time will be a kaleidoscope of autumn colour, though at the moment only my two ornamental pears - Pyrus calleryana Chanticleer and Py. Call. Red Spire - are really making a serious contrbution. In years to come I hope that they will be joined by various ornamental cherries. These seem to have rather gone out of favour, and are fairly difficult to get hold of in France, which is a pity since they seem to grow well in our region. For the moment I will just mention one, Prunus x subhitella Autumnalis. I suppose it is the flowers, coming a they do when most flowers have packed up for the winter - mine is just beginning now, and I hope will continue on and off until April - that is its main feature. Still autumn colour is a definite bonus, and it grows fast. Another tree with significant flowers but also significant autumn colour, and it should be added attractive seed pods, are the Koelreuterias, both bipinnata integrifolia and the more common, panniculata, sometimes called the Golden rain tree on account of its yellow flowers in early summer.  Incidentally if you are driving through Simorre on the Lombez road just before the roundabout on which the post office is situated, you will see some very fine specimens, exceptionally tall for what is normally quite a small tree.

Planted below our large oaks is also a Liquidamber orientalis.  This I acquired at la Coursianna, where as I have mentioned before you will also discover a fine collection of the more common L. styracifolia, of which there are now many hybrids, for which see the Adeline catalogue where twenty one are mentioned.  L.orientalis is smaller, indeed it is sometimes described as a bush, but it is recognizably a liquidamber with the usual outstanding autumn tints, but its leaves when rubbed should smell strongly of balsam. I may have planted mine in the wrong place, that is to say on a dry south facing bank, when it is supposed to like damp conditions. But if you read the books this is apparently true of all Liquidambers, and yet they seem to flourish in our region, but then of course at certain periods, as now, we can get plenty of rain.

Of the shrubs one needs to mention most of the deciduous viburnhams, though in the case of V. burkwoodii and its hybrids, more usually semi-persistent.Last year I acquired V. burk. Mohawk, and am delighted with it; the usual smelly flowers in the spring, very red in bud, but with very good autumn tints, tints being the right word  because some leaves remain greenish.  More in your face is the colour of the Hydrangea quercifolias, of which there are now, like the Liquidambers, many hybrids. If you can cope with the almost bling-bling effect of their large white flower heads, they are good news as they cope better with our summers than the more usual 'mopheads'. Their autumn colour is a very rich burgundy. But if you can grow other hydrangeas look out for the H. serrata group, all of which tend to have good autumn colour.

With us some of the best autumn colour is provided by two roses. I grow more and more of Rosa morlettii,unlike most roses attractive almost all the year round, since its bare and almost thornless stems are a deep red. Its flowers are for my way of thinking good enough, if only once flowering, though over a longish period, but the autumn colour is very intense.  Rosa virginiana's colour is perhaps even more intense, though not as dark a red. It is a smaller bush than R. morlettiii, rarely more than a metre, but it clumps up well, and in addition to the autumn colour has very good berries. My intention is plant it all over the wolder parts of the garden. Incidentally both these roses are very easy to progate, either by cuttings in the late autumn, or in the case of virginiana just by chopping bits off. Of course the rugosas colour up well, but as I may have mentined before I find them surprisngly difficult to grow with often significant die back. he problem is that though they can cope well with poor conditions, they do not seem to like our heavy clay, this unlike most roses. 

Finally to return to the family with which I started, the oaks.  The real autumn stars, are what are called the Red Oaks, mainly coming from America. Adeline list over seventy, and many other French nurseries have a very fine collection of them, including Florama and La Preille. But for a very useful list see the otherwise rather uninformative catalogue of Pep. bot. Armoricaines. I cannot pretend to be an expert, and have not stayed in any one garden long enough to make a proper assessment. One of the most commonly available is Quercus palustris, or Chene de marais. This has attractive leaves even without autumn colour, but as the names suggest it has a preference for dampish conditions, as sadly do many of the red oaks. Probably this difficulty can be exaggerated.  My absolute favourite, Q. schumardii, looking at its best about now,apparently likes dampish conditions, but of course not too damp! It prefers acid soil, and therefore does not like calcaire, and one is advised to avoid heavy clay.  I am not sure that I can provide any of these conditions, but it seems to grow like a bomb. So as always the best advice is to suck it and see!                                 

Autumn Tints

I used to think that our autumns were a bit 'fade' as compared with those of other regions I know. For instance I started life in France in the Creuse. It is a very wooded area, with beech being the predominant tree, and famously the beech has marvellous autumn colour, as well as having the most delicate of greens in the Spring. The Creuse also has acid soil, which intensifies autumn colour, and what with a little bit more rain it is an area where many of the stars of Autumn colour  - Azaleas, Cornus, Hamamelis, but above all Acers - can flourish. Here our predominant oak goes a rather muddy yellow and this provides the backcloth for a rather more subdued display.

Nevertheless the more I see of our autumns the more I have come to like them.  We may lack the 'Gosh' factor, but the trouble with 'Gosh' is that it is all too quickly over. Here we have what might be called a 'slow burn', and there is a lot to be said for it.  Our stars would include the Field Acers (A.campestre) - usually a very bright yellow - the wild cornus (C.sanguinea) - a dark burgundy - and the Wayfaring tree (Viburnum lantana) - also a darkish red. Hawthorns are a bit iffy in this respect.  They can go quite a good colour, but a dry summer can make them go a little tatty too soon, though they do possess what is the other great autumn feature the bright berries. Having read about it in Pamela Harper's book I have acquired Crataegus viridis Winter King, which she thinks is unbeatable for berries, while Adeline from whom I acquired it, suggests that it has good autumn colour. Mine at this moment has got quite a few berries, but the tree, which I have planted in rather an exposed place, did not enjoythe summer drought, so is not looking quite as good as I had hoped. The same is true of Sorbus folgneri Lemon Drop, also acquired from Adeline (when funds were more plentiful!), but in theory it should have both berries - in this case yellow not red - and a 'très beau coloris' in the autumn.

Of the Crataegus family I would however recommend C. phaenopyrum, otherwise called the Washington Thorn. One of its qualities, which to my mind is a very important one, is that the change of colour happens over quite a long period, and is uneven, so that the reds mingle with the greens and yellows.  Famously this is true of Parrotia persica. I first fell in love with this tree when seen at Sissinghurst many years ago. I have had it in every garden that I have been associated with, and I have one here. But none of the my French ones have done particularly well, which is odd since none of the books suggest that it is a difficult tree, though it probably does prefer a dampish soil. This is even more true of one of the autumn, and indeed spring, stars, Cercidiphyllum japonicum, so if you can provide shelter from wind, as well as damp, this is a must. If you can  get to the Chateau de Rieucazé's garden, you will see a marvellous speciman of Cercidiphyllum jap: pendulum, a very smart tree indeed if you can find the right spot for it, that is to say dampish, and not too exposed, though with its weeping form it probably needs a formal setting.

If you like what might be called 'in your face' red the obvious choice for here is the Sumach family. It is in fact a large family which I probably should like more than I do. The red candles of the bog-standard S. glabra, rather put me off, and it also suckers  rather too much, but if you want bright autumn colour, and not unattractive leaves for spring and summer, look no further.  Almost as in your face, and for me a more interesting family are the many forms of Cotinus. In fact I seem only to have two, which is probably too few. I remain faithful to Cotinus Grace, but largely for nostalgic reasons. I first saw it some thirty years at Marwood Hill Gardens near Barnstaple, created by the late Dr Smart, and somehow it made a very big impression. Whether in the end it is much better than the readily available C. Royal Purple I rather doubt; the colour is perhaps a little more intense in spring and autmn, but less purple in high summer. I have also got a yellow leaved variety - perhaps C. Golden Spirit - but I have treated it badly and as a result it has not grown very much.  Incidentally C. obvatus is well worth thinking about.It has a tidier form than many of the others, though growing quite big, lots of the candy floss flowers characteristic of the family, less interesting leaf through most of the summer, but very good colour in the autumn.

Since I started ths blog, the autumn colours have really come on, and I would guess for my neck of the woods, at their best (18th Nov.) right now. The undoubted star is the Field acer. As mentioned above, its autumn colour is usually an intense yellow, but occasionally (I think) you come across one that goes red. I have put in the bracket because it is quite easy to mistake an Acer campestre for a Sorbus torminalis, or Wild Service tree, also to be found in our woods and hedgerows, but well worth putting in your garden. The leaf form is similar, i.e. palmate or maple like, but being a sorbus it has the bunches of white flowers, though the white is rather dinghy, followed by berries. It is perhaps not as reliable as regards its autmn colour, but the colour is red, and by and large red is what we miss here.  But Adeline list two Field maples with red autumn colour, A.camp: Postelense and A.Camp: Red Shine, and I have to say I am tempted.

Autumn colour is something that I am obsessed with, and will no doubt return to the subject many times. I have not for instance mentioned the Red Oaks, of which there are a great many, and most of which grow well here. But for the moment enough is enough. It only remains to enjoy the show.

Gaujacq - its Twentieth Anniversary

I was not there right at the start, but almost, since my first visit was in the October of 1991. In those days it only took place in the autumn. I think it was then,or perhaps it was the following year, that it poured with rain and the site became something of a mud bath which in some ways only added to the ambience, but apart from the fact that it now takes place in the Spring as well nothing very much has changed. I suspect that it still remains the most important plant fair in our region, though it has to be said that it is rather on the edge of it, since it is actually in the Landes (40), 18 km north of Orthez and 28 km south of Dax. Thus it is a long drive for me at any rate, but one that I have never regretted.  Its founder and current organiser is Jean Thoby, who set up his nursery there in 1985. Son of a famous nurseryman who specialized in camellias, he himelf seems to be passionate about most plants, though the passion tends to come in waves: hostas were one craze, clematis another. But my strongest memory of the garden, or as he calls it Le Planterium - in itself a curious mixture of French and English styles - are the Camellia sasanquas, which for the autumn fair are in full bloom, many of them with a strong and attractive scent.  For him they really flourish, not surprisingly given the family tradition - one thinks of the Williams family in Cornwall - but having been tempted by his, mine have never done particularly well, though not helped by the fact that I have moved about too often, so never really seen them develop. I guess that he probably has more rain than many of us, which must help, though the books say that they can take the sun, and like most camellias they can actually take quite a bit of frost, despite their exotic appearance. They also do not require quite such a acid soil, as for instance the rhododendrons do, so as with other camellias they must be worth a try, just as long as you can get some water to them in our many dry spells.

I am delighted to say that many of the exhibitors at Gaujacq go back as long ago as I do, and deaths have not been nearly so many as amongst the plants that I have bought there.  Many I consider almost as friends, and some of them have already been mentioned in these blogs. My absolute favourites remain Jean-François Giraud and his wife of Le Jardin de Rochvieille, and once again he persuaded me to add to my buddleja collection. In fact I bought two: B.longifolia and B.macrostachya. Both in theory flower throughout the summer, and certainly have a longer flowering season than the more common B. davidii, and as with all the species their foliage tends to be more interesting, in fact often most attractive.

Perhaps the most unusual plants, or rather plants, that I acquired came from Pep: Botaniques Armoricaines and Mr. Le Cam. Unlike Giraud, Le Cam cannot be said to come at you, and if he is aware of the fact that I have been buying his plants for nigh on twenty years he does not let on. But he has a very interesting selection. You might call him a 'poor man's Adeline'. Very few nurseries in the world can equal Adeline's list, and their catalogue, as I may have mentioned before, is well worth acquiring, but their prices are for the most part outside my range. Le Cam's are modest, and over the years I have bought some very good things from him. This year it was two Hollies, two because with hollies you need a male and female to get the berries, and without berries the ones I bought are not very interesting, in fact they do not really look very much like a holly, especially since they are deciduous. They are Ilex Sparkleberry, and the necessary male, Apollo.  You will find them in Hilliers, but it was my favourite garden writer Pamela Harper who put me on to them. Sparkleberry's alleged attraction  are its very prolific berries, that should last through the winter, and certainly in Harper's photos it looks terrific.  Its other attraction for me is the fact that it should cope well with our summers.  I have not had much luck with the European hollies, which  I much regret, since they possess a wonderful range of leaf colour.  I assume it is because for the most part my gardens have been too dry, though you do come across them in  our woods, though perhaps more often in woods nearer the mountains. Anyway I am hoping that I. Sparkleberry will fill the gap, at least as far as the berries are concerned.

My one criticism of Gaujacq is that as far as exhibitors are concerned it seems to be a rather exclusive club. I find that it is very strange that a nursery as important as La Roseraie du Desert with a collection of roses of  international importance is not invited to the feast. And why not Bernard Lacrouts  whom I have frequently mentioned in these blogs? He has got as good a list of vivaces as any, and apart from being extremely friendly he has got one of the best websites that I have come across - now incidentally www.unjardindevivaces.fr .  Still if there are any of you out there who have not been to Gaujacq do put it on your list. It is only twice a year - May and october - and it will give you great pleasure.

Postscript

On the 20/21st of September we had 21 mm of rain but since then nothing, so I am still pretty neurotic about the lack of water: in the last five months we have had 155 mm in lieu of the average 300 mm.  Still the days are shorter and not so hot, and most trees and shrubs will just go in to winter hibernation early if lack of rain remains, so should survive to fight another day. However looking round the garden following my last blog I have noticed survivors that I should have mentioned, most obviously the Fraxinus family.  We have not got any common or garden Ashes (F.excelsior), and I have always assumed this is because we are too dry, but that may be quite wrong. They are handsome enough trees, and grow quickly which can be an advantage. But it is a big family, and probably underused. I have sown with success Fraxinus ornus, the Manna Ash. It has quite spectacular flowers, rather similar to those of a sweet chestnut and at about the same time, i.e. early summer, but also quite smart leaves, which on my admittedly small plants have not wilted. I have also got Fraxinus bungeana and Fraxinus chinensis and am about to acquire Fraxinus sieboldiana, the latter with quite spectacular flowering, and all with promise of autumn tints.. The first two I have completely neglected, and they have received no watering, despite which they seem as right as rain!

I have also got many young specimens, not as yet planted out, of Alnus cordata, what we call the Italian Alder, but I see the French call Corsican.  I cannot speak for this year, but on past experience it resists the secheresse well, despite being an alder. It lacks autumn colour but it is a smart enough tree, especially so in winter when the catkins are attractive. Incidentally if anyone is interested in acquiring either this or Fraxinus ornus just get in touch (petergwyn@orange.fr) since I have got far too many for my own use.

Of the Acers, the only one alive - I exaggerate, but none look good - is A. oliverianum. This grows under oaks, so with some shade, but  on a south-facing bank so very dry. It is true that I have watered it a little, but I am still surprised how well it looks. I am sure that I have read some where that it resists dryness better than most acers, but I cannot find the reference. Still the proof of the pudding . . .

Other trees whose resistance to dryness seems to have been goodish this year would include the Koelreuterias. I have both K. bipinnata var. integrifolia and the more often seen K.panniculata, but have yet to see the former in flower. I would also include Diospyros virginiana, the American persimon/kaki, and Pistacia chinensis, both with good autumn colour, though mine are admittedly small, and have received some, though not a lot of water.

Meanwhile I am a little bit more optimistic about the garden here. I suppose what has pleased me most has been the so-called Prairie Garden behind the swimming pool. Amongst other things I am gradually getting it under control,  but what with the grasses and the gauras, along with at the moment, the Michaelmas daisies it has looked pretty good, at least from a distance. It still needs a bit more bulk, but I now feel that it is going to work. I am not so sure of my West-facing bed, sadly rather more south-west than west.  I thought that it was somewhere that I could have camellias, hydrangeas, and amongst the vivace, even phlox, i.e. I thought that it would remain dampish and reasonably shady and could take some moisture loving plants, because it is the only place in the garden  where it seemed possible. But this summer has rather destroyed this illusion, and it is time for a rethink. Rethinks are necessary from time to time, and as the season draws to an end, and with the big plant fairs such as Gaujac, will soon be upon us, perhaps now is a good moment to have them.