For some years now I have been in love with a winter/early spring flowering buddleya: strong purple panicles that droop - 'lax panicles' might be a more elegant way of putting it - in what I find is a very attractive way, this on a bush with grey foliage which looks good all the year round. The only problem is that I have been calling it B. officinalis Vicomte de Noailles, when I am now fairly certain it is in fact B. x Bel Argent, this after having seen some photos of the latter. It was certainly acquired from Le Jardin de Rochevielle where you will find both buddleyas. Moreover both shrubs have a special relationship to that nursery: 'Vicomte de Noailles' was discovered by the owners, Jean-François Giraud and Dominque Permingeat, in the famous garden of the Villa Noailles, while Bel Argent is their own creation, an offspring of B. farreri and B.davidii. So I do not feel too bad about it. Nevertheless I do want to apoligize for misleading people, but on the other hand it does provide me with an opportunity to encourage people to buy the plant, for it really is a lovely addition to any garden.
My second correction, or rather apology concerns a rather slighting comment I recently wrote about a book by Piet Oudolf and Noel Kingsbury entitled 'Planting; a New Perspective', the text of which I had found rather boring. I do not feel any need to change that judgment, but on the other hand what I would now like to recommend is another book, 'Dream Plants for the Natural Garden', one of whose authors is again Piet Oudolf, while there is an introduction by Noel Kingsbury, who has for a very long time been Oudolf's great advocate in England. . But as regards 'Dream Plants' there is a co-author, Henk Gerritsen, and may be it he who has made the difference, for the book is not at all boring. It consists mainly of a list of non-woody plants - the brief chapter on 'Tough Shrubs' is the least satisfactory, while bulbs are also included. There are three sections: 'Tough', 'Playful', and 'Troublesome'. If one then look at the subheadings of, for instance 'Part 3, Troublesome', one finds 'Invasive plants', 'Capricious plants', 'Staking', Demanding plants' and finally 'Failing the test', which I hope gives you the flavour of the book and the reason why I like it. It is personal and judgmental. This could annoy, especially when one disagrees, but given the knowledge and experience of the two authors this is neither here nor there: what they have to say has to be worth hearing. Curiously, since they have almost opposed views about what makes a good garden, their approach rather reminds me of Christopher Lloyd's garden writing; none of them afraid of calling a spade a spade, or rather a bad plant a bad plant.
And I do disagree quite often, or sometimes I think that they are just wrong. For instance writing about Hydrangea quercifolia in the 'Tough shrubs' chapter they state that "it only grows well in moisture-retentive acid soil", when for us with no acid soil and summers that can dry out even the most retentive soil it is our most reliable hydrangea. In their last section 'Failing the test' there are thirteen entries of which one is for 'Gaura lindheimeri 'Whirling Butterflies', about which they write that it is "a wonderful gap filler, but you have to buy a new batch every year". Well, ours have so far lasted eight years and have increased mightily, but then perhaps I should have already mentioned: both the writers are Dutch and it seems to me that the book is chiefly directed to a North European audience, which does not stop it being enormous fun, and I for one will always consult it before buying herbaceaous plants.
Tuesday, 23 February 2016
Wednesday, 10 February 2016
Call me Daphne!
I have never really got on well with daphnes. I remember that in my Aunt's garden in Bexhill there was a purple flowering D.mezereum which for some reason I thought was rather ugly, though I see that Graham Thomas gives it high marks - "one of the most valuable,hardy,small to medium-sized shrubs for our winter gardens". I have also a various times grown D.collina which makes quite a pleasing small bush though when its lilac flowers are not in bloom, it is perhaps not very noticeable, this in France but much nearer the Pyrenees than I am now. Perhaps my favourite to date , this in another French garden, was D.burkwoodii Somerset, or least that is what I thought it was, though plain 'Somerset' does not have variegated leaves which ours did, so I suppose that it might have been 'Astrid'. Anyway the variegation was rather the point because what slightly worries me about daphnes is that when not in flower they are usually not a very exciting feature. Many of course, make quite small, low shrubs - D.collina and D.petraea to name two - more suited to the rockery than the shrub border, which reminds me to ask what on earth has happened to the rockery? My father adored them and in my youth it seemed that there were a 'must have' feature, but they seem to have gone quite out of fashion. This is odd in a way because in a sense they are as naturalistic as say the now very popular gravel or meadow garden. Perhaps they are too much trouble, too fiddly and time consuming, and I guess that a rock garden which is not well-tended just looks a mess, while say my gravel garden can get away with murder, or I pretend that it can!
Meanwhile back to daphnes in order to report that despite my worries about them - and I have not mentioned my chief worry is that they do not want to be too dry or hot in summer - last year I did acquire two. Daphne 'Eternal Fragrance' is I fear one of those 'tendance' plants that suddenly everybody wants to acquire only for them all too often to be quickly forgotten. Its attraction is of course the word 'eternal' - most daphnes have a fairly short flowering period often in the late Winter or early Spring, so that one that is always in flower would be very exciting. Mine however managed about a week but it was its first year so I can only live in hope. Then towards the end of last year I was seduced by an item in the excellent Burncoose website - D. x transatlantica Pink Fragrance, which looking at the new Hilliers I see is related to Eternal Fragrance so I am promised a long flowering period, though this time with pink rather than white flowers. And as both names indicate, the chief reason why ones grows daphnes is for their fragrance, so that if they can be planted near a door or beside a path, and I guess preferably in semi-shade, or at least near a source of water, so much better.
Finally a plant that I should have mentioned in my last blog since acquired last year, and seen first in Cornwall - Berberis valdiviana. As with daphnes I have to admit to being only half in love with the 'barberries'. I guess it is the prickles that most of them have in abundance that makes me wary of them, while they can, as in the case of B.darwinii, have rather too bright orange flowers. But by and large they are easy plants to grow and as regards the many B. thunbergii hybrids they come very often with bright coloured leaves that go an even brighter colour in Autumn. And the good news about B.valdiviana is that it is not very prickly, and its flowers are a saffron yellow. Spotted from afar, since it is a very large shrub, I had no idea what it was but it certainly made a big impression with what could be called a 'gosh factor', so I am hoping that it will make the same impression here.
Meanwhile back to daphnes in order to report that despite my worries about them - and I have not mentioned my chief worry is that they do not want to be too dry or hot in summer - last year I did acquire two. Daphne 'Eternal Fragrance' is I fear one of those 'tendance' plants that suddenly everybody wants to acquire only for them all too often to be quickly forgotten. Its attraction is of course the word 'eternal' - most daphnes have a fairly short flowering period often in the late Winter or early Spring, so that one that is always in flower would be very exciting. Mine however managed about a week but it was its first year so I can only live in hope. Then towards the end of last year I was seduced by an item in the excellent Burncoose website - D. x transatlantica Pink Fragrance, which looking at the new Hilliers I see is related to Eternal Fragrance so I am promised a long flowering period, though this time with pink rather than white flowers. And as both names indicate, the chief reason why ones grows daphnes is for their fragrance, so that if they can be planted near a door or beside a path, and I guess preferably in semi-shade, or at least near a source of water, so much better.
Finally a plant that I should have mentioned in my last blog since acquired last year, and seen first in Cornwall - Berberis valdiviana. As with daphnes I have to admit to being only half in love with the 'barberries'. I guess it is the prickles that most of them have in abundance that makes me wary of them, while they can, as in the case of B.darwinii, have rather too bright orange flowers. But by and large they are easy plants to grow and as regards the many B. thunbergii hybrids they come very often with bright coloured leaves that go an even brighter colour in Autumn. And the good news about B.valdiviana is that it is not very prickly, and its flowers are a saffron yellow. Spotted from afar, since it is a very large shrub, I had no idea what it was but it certainly made a big impression with what could be called a 'gosh factor', so I am hoping that it will make the same impression here.
Tuesday, 19 January 2016
Nouveautés
Last year we seem to have acquired quite a lot of new plants, quite a few from England, which is not something we particularly like doing - it costs! - but as I have mentioned before there does seem to be a wider choice. I suspect many of our new plants will turn out to be mistakes. I am undoubtedly an impulse buyer, which no doubt can be criticised, but for me is part of the fun, and if you do not have a go you will never know what plants will flourish. And though there are mistakes there are fortunately some pleasant surprises as well.
Of course my visit to the Cornish gardens was the cause of many temptations, and I was only saved from financial ruin by the fact that many of the most exciting plants were clearly not going to flourish chez nous. In our garden azaleas and rhododendrons are impossible, while camellias and magnolias are difficult. What I ended up with were two species that are probably not in what might be called the first rank of plants but but were sufficiently a feature of the Cornish gardens to catch the eye.
The first of these was Olearia x scilloniensis. If I describe it as a white daisy on a grey-leaved small shrub it does not sound all that exciting, but it charmed me sufficiently to want to acquire it, this as a good filler-inner on our Southern slopes. What should perhaps have flagged up a red light is that you do not see many olearias in Gascony. I have grown nearer to the Pyrenees than I am now O.macrodonta, which to be honest is a rather dull shrub with sage-green, holly like leaves, but the white daisies do smell. Also smelly, or perhaps I should say fragrant, is O.x haastii, this flowering in the summer, while O. x scillionensis flowers in late spring. Meanwhile I also fell for O. phlogopappa 'Comber's Blue', probably even a greater mistake, since its rather exotic purple daisy-like flowers may look rather bizarre in our mixed shrubbery, that is if it survives. Olearias come from the Southern hemisphere, so they are not afraid of heat, and some of them will not survive a really cold winter. But I suspect that it is not the cold that is going to be the chief worry but our dry summers. What they like is mild and wet which is why they flourish in Cornwall, and may well not in Gascony.
One could probably say the same for camellia sasanquas. Moreover like all camellias they would prefer a soil that that was rather more acid than our frequently heavy clay, while according to Hilliers "a Woodland site with light overhead shade is ideal". These are not conditions that most us can provide very easily, but this has not stopped me acquiring three camellia sasanquas -Crimson, Versicolor, and Yuletide - along with C. Quintessence, a hybrid between C.japonica and C.lutchuensis, all of these from Alan Thoby, an elder brother of Jean of Gaujacq fame who runs a nursery, pepiniere des Cascatelles in the Tarn, which I have only really discovered this year, but that seems to be very good news. The feature of sasanquas for those who do not know them is that they flower in the autumn, have less artificial flowers than the more commonly found japonicas, since often single though not such a variety of choice, but with very often good scent. Moreover I have always had in my head that for us they are slightly easier to grow, though admittedly I have not found much evidence for this in the reference books. Still I have done my best. They are planted in semi-shade on the south terrace. I have added a good deal of peat to the soil, and there is ready access to water, for another problem with camellias, perhaps even the most important, is that they do not like dry conditions. Apart from that they should be easy!
As easy, or should I say as difficult, is another plant that I fell for in Cornwall - Amomyrtus luma. As the name suggests, it is essentially a myrtle - bush/tree with darkish evergreen leaves and fragrant white flowers. It differs from most other myrtles in that it is spring rather than summer flowering. Also praised are the copper coloured young leaves. I have to say it looked extremely attractive, but then I was seeing it in full flower. Whether it will do here is quite another matter. I have tried and lost the related Luma apiculata Glangleam Gold, a variegated version of the so-called Chilean myrtle, though whether through cold or drought I am not sure. It could well have been the latter because like most of the plants already mentioned it likes mild but also humid conditions. As always this is not easy to find in our garden but beneath a quite high wall there was formerly a 'mare' and as a result the water seems to be retained there despite the sunshine it receives, so that is where it has gone. On verra!
Finally two other shrubs that were acquired this year. I did not spot Philadelphus maculatus Mexican Jewel in any of the Cornish gardens I visited since it was not in flower, but I suspect it was there since featured in many of the English catalogues. Like many new introductions it may well be being oversold but with its 'intensely scented white flowers which hang down' it sounds rather good, though the fact that it is called 'frost hardy' rather suggests that it does not like being too cold. Curiously we lack Philadelphus perhaps because of my plant snobbery since they are to be found in many people's gardens. They are also only in flower for quite a short period and without flowers the plant is not very attractive. But of course the scent is to die for, especially since it does carry, and one of my resolutions for 2016 is to plant more.
The last shrub is one that as far as I can make out, and unlike most of the others so far mentioned, should be full proof in Gascony but probably so far untried since it is a comparatively new plant. Its name is Calycanthus raulstonii Hartlage Wine. C. floridus,or otherwise called Carolina allspice I have grown, but would only give it medium marks - attractive shiny green leaves but the brownish rather dead looking flowers did not do anything for me. C. raulstonii Hartlage Wine has 'maroon to wine-red summer flowers . . . with a circle of smaller creamy white tepals in the centre', and is delicately scented. And since it was strongly recommended by the celebrated Irish gardener, Helen Dillon, I hoping that it is going to be a winner - and on this note I will end by wishing you all Happy Gardening in 2016.
Of course my visit to the Cornish gardens was the cause of many temptations, and I was only saved from financial ruin by the fact that many of the most exciting plants were clearly not going to flourish chez nous. In our garden azaleas and rhododendrons are impossible, while camellias and magnolias are difficult. What I ended up with were two species that are probably not in what might be called the first rank of plants but but were sufficiently a feature of the Cornish gardens to catch the eye.
The first of these was Olearia x scilloniensis. If I describe it as a white daisy on a grey-leaved small shrub it does not sound all that exciting, but it charmed me sufficiently to want to acquire it, this as a good filler-inner on our Southern slopes. What should perhaps have flagged up a red light is that you do not see many olearias in Gascony. I have grown nearer to the Pyrenees than I am now O.macrodonta, which to be honest is a rather dull shrub with sage-green, holly like leaves, but the white daisies do smell. Also smelly, or perhaps I should say fragrant, is O.x haastii, this flowering in the summer, while O. x scillionensis flowers in late spring. Meanwhile I also fell for O. phlogopappa 'Comber's Blue', probably even a greater mistake, since its rather exotic purple daisy-like flowers may look rather bizarre in our mixed shrubbery, that is if it survives. Olearias come from the Southern hemisphere, so they are not afraid of heat, and some of them will not survive a really cold winter. But I suspect that it is not the cold that is going to be the chief worry but our dry summers. What they like is mild and wet which is why they flourish in Cornwall, and may well not in Gascony.
One could probably say the same for camellia sasanquas. Moreover like all camellias they would prefer a soil that that was rather more acid than our frequently heavy clay, while according to Hilliers "a Woodland site with light overhead shade is ideal". These are not conditions that most us can provide very easily, but this has not stopped me acquiring three camellia sasanquas -Crimson, Versicolor, and Yuletide - along with C. Quintessence, a hybrid between C.japonica and C.lutchuensis, all of these from Alan Thoby, an elder brother of Jean of Gaujacq fame who runs a nursery, pepiniere des Cascatelles in the Tarn, which I have only really discovered this year, but that seems to be very good news. The feature of sasanquas for those who do not know them is that they flower in the autumn, have less artificial flowers than the more commonly found japonicas, since often single though not such a variety of choice, but with very often good scent. Moreover I have always had in my head that for us they are slightly easier to grow, though admittedly I have not found much evidence for this in the reference books. Still I have done my best. They are planted in semi-shade on the south terrace. I have added a good deal of peat to the soil, and there is ready access to water, for another problem with camellias, perhaps even the most important, is that they do not like dry conditions. Apart from that they should be easy!
As easy, or should I say as difficult, is another plant that I fell for in Cornwall - Amomyrtus luma. As the name suggests, it is essentially a myrtle - bush/tree with darkish evergreen leaves and fragrant white flowers. It differs from most other myrtles in that it is spring rather than summer flowering. Also praised are the copper coloured young leaves. I have to say it looked extremely attractive, but then I was seeing it in full flower. Whether it will do here is quite another matter. I have tried and lost the related Luma apiculata Glangleam Gold, a variegated version of the so-called Chilean myrtle, though whether through cold or drought I am not sure. It could well have been the latter because like most of the plants already mentioned it likes mild but also humid conditions. As always this is not easy to find in our garden but beneath a quite high wall there was formerly a 'mare' and as a result the water seems to be retained there despite the sunshine it receives, so that is where it has gone. On verra!
Finally two other shrubs that were acquired this year. I did not spot Philadelphus maculatus Mexican Jewel in any of the Cornish gardens I visited since it was not in flower, but I suspect it was there since featured in many of the English catalogues. Like many new introductions it may well be being oversold but with its 'intensely scented white flowers which hang down' it sounds rather good, though the fact that it is called 'frost hardy' rather suggests that it does not like being too cold. Curiously we lack Philadelphus perhaps because of my plant snobbery since they are to be found in many people's gardens. They are also only in flower for quite a short period and without flowers the plant is not very attractive. But of course the scent is to die for, especially since it does carry, and one of my resolutions for 2016 is to plant more.
The last shrub is one that as far as I can make out, and unlike most of the others so far mentioned, should be full proof in Gascony but probably so far untried since it is a comparatively new plant. Its name is Calycanthus raulstonii Hartlage Wine. C. floridus,or otherwise called Carolina allspice I have grown, but would only give it medium marks - attractive shiny green leaves but the brownish rather dead looking flowers did not do anything for me. C. raulstonii Hartlage Wine has 'maroon to wine-red summer flowers . . . with a circle of smaller creamy white tepals in the centre', and is delicately scented. And since it was strongly recommended by the celebrated Irish gardener, Helen Dillon, I hoping that it is going to be a winner - and on this note I will end by wishing you all Happy Gardening in 2016.
Tuesday, 24 November 2015
Plant of the Year 2015
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!
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!
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.
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