Nothing to do with our garden - we have only got to seven and I am not sure that glorious would be the right adjective - but everything to do with Bernard Lacrouts' garden nursery which this year is celebrating its twenty years of existence. I have written about it before, and no doubt will again since it just happens to be the best nursery for herbaceous plants that I know of in these parts, though if you live in the Ariege I suspect that Le Jardin de Taurignan is of a similar high quality. I could not go to the Anniversary Open Day, but have paid a recent visit and was kindly given a memento of the event in the form of a Japanese clochette, which I am hoping might help deter the deer which here seem to be on the increase and are rivalling rabbits as our number one enemy.
As I have also written before one of the pleasures of visiting the nursery, which is close to Vic en Bigorre just of the Pau road at Sanous, is that Bernard Lacrouts is extremely pleasant as well as being helpful; ditto his colleague 'Ann' - I have put her name in inverted commas since I am not sure that I have got it right - who as well as helping in the nursery is a champion snowboarder and Archer. Another pleasure is that it always looks well looked after and for most of the year is very colourful. And then there is the very wide choice. Just looking through the catalogue, which can be consulted on line - www.unjardinvivaces.fr - one will find at least 15 different sorts of achilleas, including one of my favourite plants, Achillea Moonshine, ten agastache, which sadly do not seem to like me - not enough drainage? - 30 asters, 50 hardy geraniums, and God knows how many different sorts of day lilies and salvias. Moreover, in amongst what I would call bog standard plants which are nevertheless necessary to provide the backbone to a garden, one will find plenty of new, at least to me, and exciting plants. Last year I came across Patrinia scabiosifolia, which I still have not acquired since having put them aside on my recent visit to buy, I promptly went off without them. It is difficult to describe but a bit like the wild valerian, but instead of being on the pink side of white the flowers are yellow. This may not sound very exciting but for me it stands out in a crowd, as even more so does the plant that caught my eye on this visit Mathiasella bupleuroides Green Dream. This you will not find in many catalogues but can be found like everything else on the net, where on one site it is called the" 'must have' plant of Chelsea" but only of 2007. So six years to get to Gascony but it is has been worth the wait!
My worry about both these plants is that I am not sure how easily they will adapt to our garden since cool shade which I suspect they might prefer is almost totally absent. So for the moment Green Dream will remain in a pot. A plant that would certainly do and one that was recommended by Bernard Lacrouts was Geranium Dreamlands. This was another plant that in my excitement with other choices I failed to buy. It is apparently a pinkish version of the star rated Geranium Rozanne, which amongst other things means that it has a very long flowering period, and I will certainly be buying it in the autumn. What I did buy, and this a plant that would adorn any garden is Nepeta yunnanensis Blue Dragon. I suppose that it is about 40 cms high, it stands up very straight so does not need staking, and has the look more of penstemon than a nepeta, in that the actual flower is quite large, the colour being a good deep, perhaps slightly purplish blue.
Finally, I just want to mention again a plant that is at the moment one of the most attractive plants in our garden. Its common name is Ribbed Melilot, or more scientifically Mililotus officinalis. It varies in height but can probably get to a meter, pale yellow but stands out from a far. You will not find it in many catalogues, though it does get into my 2003-2004 RHS Plant Finder, since it is more normally considered a weed. This I think is a great mistake, and perhaps I will be able to persuade Bernard that this is the case. If I can't tant pis, but a visit to his nursery will remain one of my greatest gardening pleasures.
Friday, 21 June 2013
Wednesday, 8 May 2013
This, That, and the Other
Recently two plants have caught the eye in our garden, - Ceanothus Puget Blue and Malus Prairifire. I assume that ceanothus are much bought in our area, and certainly you can find a very wide selection of them for sale at for instance le jardin d'emballage at Mirande. But with the exception of the ubiquitous C. repens you do not actually see very many, or is it just that one does not get to see many gardens ? Be that as it may, the 'Californian lilacs' that I have grown do seem to flourish, enjoying not surprisingly our dry, hot summers, and rather more surprisingly putting up with our winter wet. In a cold winter they can be damaged, but here at any rate in the bad winter of 2011-12 all mine recovered despite having looked rather dead for quite a long time. Along with C.repens we growC.Concha, C.Dark Star, C x delileanus Comtesse de Paris, C.Joyce Coulter, and C.Skylark. C.repens is not to be despised despite the fact that it is so common - a good deep blue and the fact that it provides an attractive evergreen wide spreading bush excellent for covering a dry bank makes it very acceptable. Also wide spreading is C.Jane Coulter, again a good blue, but with rather less regular form. Not so long ago C.Concha was what I have called in previous blogs a 'celebrity', or 'must have' plant to be found at every plant fair in some quantity. I am not quite sure why this was the case: a slightly darker blue than some, but otherwise not all that different, but nothing wrong with it. C x delileanus Comtesse de Paris is summer flowering and not evergreen. I prefer it to the more common C x delileanus Gloire de Versailles because I prefer darker blue, and I actually dislike the for me dirty pinks of the summer flowering C. x pallidus with names like Marie Simon and Perle Rose. Still by and large all ceanothus are good news for us Gascon gardeners, but for me the queen of them all is theaforesaid C.Puget Blue. It has the most intense blue of them all with even a touch of purple, and as one catalogue I consulted remarks it is in flower a long time.
As for the genus Malus, which of course includes the edible apples, M.domestica, we have planted M.coronaria Charlottae, M.coccinella, M.Nicoline, and M.Pairifire. 'Charlottae' was perhas the most important choice of tree that we have made, since four of them screen the facade of the house, and as I look out of the window at them, at this moment in full flower, I would say that we did not do too badly. The colour is what I call a Quince pink, better perhaps called blush pink. The flowers are supposed to smell of violets but even in sunshine it is faint, and with our current overcast weather non-existent. Like all malus it bears fruit, in this case bright green and about the size of a golf ball. In a not too dry summer they would be very attractive, but in a dry one they drop all too soon. But the leaves are attractive at all stages including autumn colouring. So a very good tree, though not all that easy to find. A Gersois nurseryman I consulted recommended M.Red Sentiinel and M.Evereste, the latter seemingly the most commonly available malus, with the result that being a self-confessed plant snob I have foolishly avoided it - but lots of white flowers and bright orange 'apples'. Meanwhile I seem to have not very deliberately favoured , with the exception of 'Charlotte', those with deep red flowers and reddish leaves. None of them is more than two meters high so it is early days, but this spring at least it was as mentioned above M.Prairifire that caught the eye most.
I have actually grown one or two malus from seed including M.toringo subsp.sargentii which gets a very good write up from Hillier, and indeed from Adeline but they really are too small to make any judgement about them, but as with the ceanothus they all seem to be good news for our gardens. In my last blog I commented that flowering cherries were difficult to find down here, perhaps because they do not like our dry summers. But given the very wide choice of flowering 'apples' we cannot complain too much.
Meanwhile as a postscript I must just mention Rosa morlettii, looking marvellous at this moment. I now have a group of five - they are very easy to make cuttings from but you can buy them at Yan Surguet's Les roses anciennes de Talos - incidentally a very good website. Some people are sniffy about the flowers - Quest Ritson states that they are "seldom attractively shaped and are almost sentless" - but what is outstanding is the combination of the strong purply pink of the flower with the dark purple tinged foliage. Moreover although it is only once flowering, though this over a long period, it has wonderful autumn colour as well as berries. In other words it is a shrub for all seasons, since even its stems in winter are quite attractive.
As for the genus Malus, which of course includes the edible apples, M.domestica, we have planted M.coronaria Charlottae, M.coccinella, M.Nicoline, and M.Pairifire. 'Charlottae' was perhas the most important choice of tree that we have made, since four of them screen the facade of the house, and as I look out of the window at them, at this moment in full flower, I would say that we did not do too badly. The colour is what I call a Quince pink, better perhaps called blush pink. The flowers are supposed to smell of violets but even in sunshine it is faint, and with our current overcast weather non-existent. Like all malus it bears fruit, in this case bright green and about the size of a golf ball. In a not too dry summer they would be very attractive, but in a dry one they drop all too soon. But the leaves are attractive at all stages including autumn colouring. So a very good tree, though not all that easy to find. A Gersois nurseryman I consulted recommended M.Red Sentiinel and M.Evereste, the latter seemingly the most commonly available malus, with the result that being a self-confessed plant snob I have foolishly avoided it - but lots of white flowers and bright orange 'apples'. Meanwhile I seem to have not very deliberately favoured , with the exception of 'Charlotte', those with deep red flowers and reddish leaves. None of them is more than two meters high so it is early days, but this spring at least it was as mentioned above M.Prairifire that caught the eye most.
I have actually grown one or two malus from seed including M.toringo subsp.sargentii which gets a very good write up from Hillier, and indeed from Adeline but they really are too small to make any judgement about them, but as with the ceanothus they all seem to be good news for our gardens. In my last blog I commented that flowering cherries were difficult to find down here, perhaps because they do not like our dry summers. But given the very wide choice of flowering 'apples' we cannot complain too much.
Meanwhile as a postscript I must just mention Rosa morlettii, looking marvellous at this moment. I now have a group of five - they are very easy to make cuttings from but you can buy them at Yan Surguet's Les roses anciennes de Talos - incidentally a very good website. Some people are sniffy about the flowers - Quest Ritson states that they are "seldom attractively shaped and are almost sentless" - but what is outstanding is the combination of the strong purply pink of the flower with the dark purple tinged foliage. Moreover although it is only once flowering, though this over a long period, it has wonderful autumn colour as well as berries. In other words it is a shrub for all seasons, since even its stems in winter are quite attractive.
Tuesday, 2 April 2013
When it is Spring again . . .
Well I suppose that it is here again, and certainly lots of things are out, and the temperatures have been high, but what is certainly here again is the rain. As I have often mentioned, I am greatly in favour of the stuff, as months go by when we do not have enough of it but as of now I wish it would stop, since it is making any sort of gardening virtually impossible. Moreover winter wet can be just as much a killer as winter cold, and though I have not noticed any major disasters as yet, there is still plenty of time for them to emerge. What have emerged are spring bulbs, though they are not in my experience nearly so successful here as they are in England. Having some time ago planted hundreds of snowdrops I now seem to have about twenty, not a good return for my efforts, though perhaps they have enjoyed all this wet, and thus will do a little better next year. As for daffodils, my experience is that though they do not decrease in numbers there is very little increase. I have gone for Narcissus February Gold, a slightly more sophisticated version of the 'wild daffodil', small like the wild, but with rather elegant petals and a brighter yellow. As the name suggests they arrive early, and this is important. For me the whole point of the daffodil is that they appear when nothing much else is happening in the garden. In what I would call a slow English spring April remains pretty spring like, here in a fast spring by April we are into roses already, and perhaps more to the point dandelions which can very easily out-yellow the daffodils.. This competition from 'wild flowers' is I think a serious problem. The other day I was looking at one of our banks, where daffodils are planted, but what caught the eye was the blue of the speedwell, and the yellow of the celandines, so much so that I wondered why I had bothered with the daffodils. Admittedly amongst the 'wild' were cyclamen coums, these along with their late summer cousins, the cyclamen hederifolium being for me essential Gascon 'bulbs'. They appear to cope well with both our dry and wet conditions and are not the favourite food of any of our numerous fauna. They are quite expensive, but are a good investment, since they do multiply, probably a better one than either autumn or Spring crocus, since these do seem to be eaten and need ideal weather conditions to look at their best, by which I mean sunshine. And while on the subject of expense I should perhaps mention Peter Nyssen Ltd as a good supplier of bulbs. I have a slight question mark about them since I am not sure that the quality of their bulbs is always of the best, but as regards 'qualité/prix' I have not found any better.
Bought from them this winter was Ipheion Jessie, a new ipheion for me with the advantage of being a much brighter blue than the more common I. uniflorum. In fact it is almost as blue as I. Rolf Fiedler, which I adore, the flowers being jewel like in their brilliance, but my suspicion is that Jessie will in the end produce more flower power, rather in the way that the white I. Alberto Castillo does, this another 'must' for me. The point about the Ipheions is that rather like the cyclamen they seem to cope with our conditions very well, not being afraid of drought, so if you have not come across them, do please give them a go. Meanwhile I never thought that I would hanker after the Grape Hyacinth (muscari armeniacum), which in England I used to consider rather too common and a bit of nuisance since it can multiply at a rather alarming rate. But I see in the Nyssen catalogue you can now find it in all sorts of shades of blue with such upmarket names as M.Valerie Finnis, and here where we have lots of space things that multiply are very welcome. Also often a nuisance in England is the bluebell, but a bluebell wood is a marvellous sight which one rarely sees in our neck of the woods. The purists are rather sniffy about the Spanish bluebell - Scilla campanulata as distinct from S.nutans, the English bluebell - and it is a coarser product. But what I am after is the blue carpet look and I suspect that to achieve that out here something Spanish is more likely to succeed.
One of the spring effects that I miss out here is that provided by the cherry blossom, and while of course there is the blossom of the edible cherry to be found, what is missing is the huge range of decorative cherries, with perhaps the exception of P.cerasifera Pissardi, with the rather depressing dark red leaves, though the pink flowers are a delight.. Even what is probably the best French tree catalogue, that of Adeline's, can hardly muster 50 while in the English Plant Finder one finds over 200. I have never worked out what the reason for this is. Perhaps because in the south of France they would not like the summer heat? I have had some success with P.Shirofugen, perhaps of all the decorative cherries my favourite, also P.Shirotae, otherwise Mount Fuji, but I feel that over the years I ought to have tried harder. Of course I have constantly praised the so-called Autumn flowering P. x subhirtella Autumnalis Rosea - mine is at this moment yet again in full flower having already flowered its heart out in early February, and what is more it does not appear to have any problems with our summers. In the last few weeks I have been introduced to another Gersois pepinière, P. Le Hour, near to Eauze. They specialize in trees; not a huge choice, though they will search for trees for you with suppliers both in Holland and Italy, but of good quality at very reasonable prices. Amongst the trees they do have is P. avium 'Pena', the double flowered version of the wild cherry. In full fig it is a marvellous sight and well worth having a go with.
Bought from them this winter was Ipheion Jessie, a new ipheion for me with the advantage of being a much brighter blue than the more common I. uniflorum. In fact it is almost as blue as I. Rolf Fiedler, which I adore, the flowers being jewel like in their brilliance, but my suspicion is that Jessie will in the end produce more flower power, rather in the way that the white I. Alberto Castillo does, this another 'must' for me. The point about the Ipheions is that rather like the cyclamen they seem to cope with our conditions very well, not being afraid of drought, so if you have not come across them, do please give them a go. Meanwhile I never thought that I would hanker after the Grape Hyacinth (muscari armeniacum), which in England I used to consider rather too common and a bit of nuisance since it can multiply at a rather alarming rate. But I see in the Nyssen catalogue you can now find it in all sorts of shades of blue with such upmarket names as M.Valerie Finnis, and here where we have lots of space things that multiply are very welcome. Also often a nuisance in England is the bluebell, but a bluebell wood is a marvellous sight which one rarely sees in our neck of the woods. The purists are rather sniffy about the Spanish bluebell - Scilla campanulata as distinct from S.nutans, the English bluebell - and it is a coarser product. But what I am after is the blue carpet look and I suspect that to achieve that out here something Spanish is more likely to succeed.
One of the spring effects that I miss out here is that provided by the cherry blossom, and while of course there is the blossom of the edible cherry to be found, what is missing is the huge range of decorative cherries, with perhaps the exception of P.cerasifera Pissardi, with the rather depressing dark red leaves, though the pink flowers are a delight.. Even what is probably the best French tree catalogue, that of Adeline's, can hardly muster 50 while in the English Plant Finder one finds over 200. I have never worked out what the reason for this is. Perhaps because in the south of France they would not like the summer heat? I have had some success with P.Shirofugen, perhaps of all the decorative cherries my favourite, also P.Shirotae, otherwise Mount Fuji, but I feel that over the years I ought to have tried harder. Of course I have constantly praised the so-called Autumn flowering P. x subhirtella Autumnalis Rosea - mine is at this moment yet again in full flower having already flowered its heart out in early February, and what is more it does not appear to have any problems with our summers. In the last few weeks I have been introduced to another Gersois pepinière, P. Le Hour, near to Eauze. They specialize in trees; not a huge choice, though they will search for trees for you with suppliers both in Holland and Italy, but of good quality at very reasonable prices. Amongst the trees they do have is P. avium 'Pena', the double flowered version of the wild cherry. In full fig it is a marvellous sight and well worth having a go with.
Tuesday, 5 February 2013
Winter Ruminations
Winter for obvious reasons is the traditional time for such an activity, in an ideal world sitting in front of an open fire, with some thing liquid to hand, and surrounded by various plant and seed catalogues with which to plan next years offensive. Here I have been doing rather more of this than usual, since though not a cold winter, it has been a very rainy one - last year was the driest one we have experienced, but during the month of January we had practically 200mm of rain, when the average for January is around 60mm. Some people may take this exceptional rainfall as yet further evidence of 'global warming', since for them any slightly exceptional weather, whether 'hot' or 'cold' supports their case. For me it is merely evidence that as always the weather is unpredictable. But since living in South West France I have vowed never to complain about too much rain, since normally it is its lack that is the worry, so my only comment on the high rainfall will be that it has given one even more time for reflection than usual.
All in all, despite the dryness, 2012 was a good gardening year for us. Trees planted some five years ago when rather small are at last beginning to be noticed. The south facing bank below the house has been more or less cleared of unwanted scrub, though not as yet, of all unwanted weeds, and is beginning to look at least meant. Our biggest change was the result of the removal of an electric poteau, this at the end of our chief vista. Getting rid of it required enormous patience, and a good deal of money, but in the end has been worth it, especially as it involved making significant paths through our small wood resulting in a glimpse though to the end of our property with the result that the garden seems to have lengthened considerably. But the chief reason for removing the poteau was that, being extremely close to, it distracted the eye from what is perhaps the chief feature of this garden, a very fine oak about 400 meters away, and more or less directly in front of our front door.
I have mentioned before that I consider myself a rather inadequate garden designer, being amongst other things too distracted and excited by individual plants to worry too much about how to put them together. But I guess that over the years one learns a little, and I suppose that my one advice to a beginner would be to try and concentrate on one or two simple decisions, and the simple decision here was to concentrate on the aforesaid oak. This in turn decided the shape that the garden has taken: house, gravel garden, lawn - better called grass - pool, prairie garden, orchard, oak. Of course for this to work one needs to have the oak in the first place, another way of saying that it is the situation, with as sub clauses weather, and soil, that is all important. Do you have a view? Are you very dry? Do you have a river? Are you on solid clay, etc, etc.? All these things are obvious, but in front of the winter fire is perhaps a good moment to ask whether amongst all the choices available one has got ones priorities right.
The conflict is often between what one likes and what is practical. I was brought up with what one might call English woodland gardens - snowdrops, bluebells, azaleas and rhododendrons - and such a garden still remains for me a kind of ideal . Here we have plenty of woodland, but when I contemplate my few remaining snowdrops,I realise that such a garden is not going to work out here. I love an herbaceous/mixed border but are they happy here. Fortunately I do like roses, but if you don't you are in trouble, since in my experience it is the plant best suited to our conditions. What we do well out here is views, especially of the Pyrenees, but my one refection about this, and I fear not very original at that, is views tend to be more exciting, if focused and directed, or to put it another way, not too obvious. So I am a great believer in vantage points and surprises, easier said than done, since blocking off a wide view requires time and money, something that the 18th century aristocrat possessed but perhaps most of us do not.
Meanwhile the daffodils are up, though not as yet in flower here,while the little Iris reticulatas are. The weeds are beginning to grow, as indeed the grass. The time for reflection will soon be over, and only too soon the battle will recommence.
All in all, despite the dryness, 2012 was a good gardening year for us. Trees planted some five years ago when rather small are at last beginning to be noticed. The south facing bank below the house has been more or less cleared of unwanted scrub, though not as yet, of all unwanted weeds, and is beginning to look at least meant. Our biggest change was the result of the removal of an electric poteau, this at the end of our chief vista. Getting rid of it required enormous patience, and a good deal of money, but in the end has been worth it, especially as it involved making significant paths through our small wood resulting in a glimpse though to the end of our property with the result that the garden seems to have lengthened considerably. But the chief reason for removing the poteau was that, being extremely close to, it distracted the eye from what is perhaps the chief feature of this garden, a very fine oak about 400 meters away, and more or less directly in front of our front door.
I have mentioned before that I consider myself a rather inadequate garden designer, being amongst other things too distracted and excited by individual plants to worry too much about how to put them together. But I guess that over the years one learns a little, and I suppose that my one advice to a beginner would be to try and concentrate on one or two simple decisions, and the simple decision here was to concentrate on the aforesaid oak. This in turn decided the shape that the garden has taken: house, gravel garden, lawn - better called grass - pool, prairie garden, orchard, oak. Of course for this to work one needs to have the oak in the first place, another way of saying that it is the situation, with as sub clauses weather, and soil, that is all important. Do you have a view? Are you very dry? Do you have a river? Are you on solid clay, etc, etc.? All these things are obvious, but in front of the winter fire is perhaps a good moment to ask whether amongst all the choices available one has got ones priorities right.
The conflict is often between what one likes and what is practical. I was brought up with what one might call English woodland gardens - snowdrops, bluebells, azaleas and rhododendrons - and such a garden still remains for me a kind of ideal . Here we have plenty of woodland, but when I contemplate my few remaining snowdrops,I realise that such a garden is not going to work out here. I love an herbaceous/mixed border but are they happy here. Fortunately I do like roses, but if you don't you are in trouble, since in my experience it is the plant best suited to our conditions. What we do well out here is views, especially of the Pyrenees, but my one refection about this, and I fear not very original at that, is views tend to be more exciting, if focused and directed, or to put it another way, not too obvious. So I am a great believer in vantage points and surprises, easier said than done, since blocking off a wide view requires time and money, something that the 18th century aristocrat possessed but perhaps most of us do not.
Meanwhile the daffodils are up, though not as yet in flower here,while the little Iris reticulatas are. The weeds are beginning to grow, as indeed the grass. The time for reflection will soon be over, and only too soon the battle will recommence.
Tuesday, 25 December 2012
Sorbus torminalis
Yet again a blog with one plant as its title, and in this case not even the excuse that it has not appeared before. My reason for doing so is that each autumn I fall in love with it again and vow to plant more of them which is as good an excuse as any, but moreover I have the impression that people do not really know about it perhaps because being common to most Gersois woods it is not considered sufficiently smart.. This year I have gone out into the woods and acquired a goodly number. This is not an altogether easy exercise. First of all one needs to identify it, the problem being that it is easily confused with the Field Maple, Acer campestre, in itself a very beautiful tree especially in autumn when the leaves turn a very intense yellow. It is too complicated for me here to explain the differences but the most obvious is that the acer's leaves are more deeply lobed. Having found the right plant the next problem is that the roots are often layered but very sparsely rooted. The result is that you often end up with a lot of stem and very few roots. I have nevertheless planted these up, and only the Spring will tell whether they have rooted or not. Perhaps you are better off buying them at a nursery - look out for Alisier - where at this time of year you will find them bare-rooted at a very reasonable price, for instance at Mirande's Jardinerie d'Embaloge.
But why bother? First of all it has the features common to the family Sorbus, attractive leaves, bunches of white flowers followed by berries and good autumn colour. In fact neither the flowers - a rather dingy white, nor the berries, more brown than red - is its best feature, but rather the autumn colour, though even this is not as spectacular as some, that is to say it is neither bright red nor bright yellow. Probably it is old age but I increasingly like the more subtle colouration which often takes place over a period of time with on the same tree leaves of a different colour. The Parrotia is one of the best in this respect, but alas I do not seem to be able to grow it well; mine shows little sign of growing and this year hardly bothered to change colour, I assume because it did not like our dry, hot summer. It is also a bit exposed to wind; one of the best examples that I can remember was tucked away in the cottage garden at Sissinghurst. Another tree that comes into this category and which I cannot grow for lack of enough water is the Cercidiphyllum, though I know of a marvellous specimen of C.japonicum Pendulum, but this growing much closer in to the Pyrenees with just that more amount of rain.
Of course we can do autumn colour here. I have mentioned the various red oaks before, my favourite being Quercus schumardii as also Pistacia sinensis. Liquidambers do reasonably well and for a very fine collection pay a visit to my 'favourite' garden, La Cousiana at Le Romieu. I have only got two: L. straciflua Worplesdon, this partly because I used to visit a lovely garden at Worplesdon, and L.formosana. The latter I am rather keen on without quite knowing why, though perhaps because its autumn colouration is not quite in your face as some - but I have just noticed that it may not be quite so frost resistant, coming from southern China, as the North American varieties.
Still, alas, autumn is over, though there are still leaves on our oak trees. The winter flowering cherry with its rather contradictory Latin name of Prunus subhirtella autumnalis - in fact it can start quite early in the winter, which I suppose one might consider to be almost autumn - is just coming into bloom. It will now flower intermittently through the winter in any mild spell, which is one of its charms: one thinks that you have had the flowers, and then up they pop again, almost stronger than ever. Also out are one or two mahaonias, and viburnum bodnantense. As yet no cyclamen coum in flower, but if this mild spell continues it will not be long before they appear. On the other hand the Iris unguicularis - why didn't we stick to the much more pronounceable I.stylosa! - are in full bloom and what a joy they are. So with plenty to look out for in the garden all that remains is to wish anyone who reads this a Very Happy Christmas and lots of good gardening in 2013
But why bother? First of all it has the features common to the family Sorbus, attractive leaves, bunches of white flowers followed by berries and good autumn colour. In fact neither the flowers - a rather dingy white, nor the berries, more brown than red - is its best feature, but rather the autumn colour, though even this is not as spectacular as some, that is to say it is neither bright red nor bright yellow. Probably it is old age but I increasingly like the more subtle colouration which often takes place over a period of time with on the same tree leaves of a different colour. The Parrotia is one of the best in this respect, but alas I do not seem to be able to grow it well; mine shows little sign of growing and this year hardly bothered to change colour, I assume because it did not like our dry, hot summer. It is also a bit exposed to wind; one of the best examples that I can remember was tucked away in the cottage garden at Sissinghurst. Another tree that comes into this category and which I cannot grow for lack of enough water is the Cercidiphyllum, though I know of a marvellous specimen of C.japonicum Pendulum, but this growing much closer in to the Pyrenees with just that more amount of rain.
Of course we can do autumn colour here. I have mentioned the various red oaks before, my favourite being Quercus schumardii as also Pistacia sinensis. Liquidambers do reasonably well and for a very fine collection pay a visit to my 'favourite' garden, La Cousiana at Le Romieu. I have only got two: L. straciflua Worplesdon, this partly because I used to visit a lovely garden at Worplesdon, and L.formosana. The latter I am rather keen on without quite knowing why, though perhaps because its autumn colouration is not quite in your face as some - but I have just noticed that it may not be quite so frost resistant, coming from southern China, as the North American varieties.
Still, alas, autumn is over, though there are still leaves on our oak trees. The winter flowering cherry with its rather contradictory Latin name of Prunus subhirtella autumnalis - in fact it can start quite early in the winter, which I suppose one might consider to be almost autumn - is just coming into bloom. It will now flower intermittently through the winter in any mild spell, which is one of its charms: one thinks that you have had the flowers, and then up they pop again, almost stronger than ever. Also out are one or two mahaonias, and viburnum bodnantense. As yet no cyclamen coum in flower, but if this mild spell continues it will not be long before they appear. On the other hand the Iris unguicularis - why didn't we stick to the much more pronounceable I.stylosa! - are in full bloom and what a joy they are. So with plenty to look out for in the garden all that remains is to wish anyone who reads this a Very Happy Christmas and lots of good gardening in 2013
Sunday, 4 November 2012
Cosmic Whisper
I am not really sure that Cosmic Whisper deserves a blog all to itself it being nothing more than a tall yellow daisy, but it has given me such pleasure over the last two or three weeks that I could not resist writing about it. Yellow daisies are in fact rather common at this time of year. Essentially there are two families - the rudbeckias and the helianthus. I guess that the rudbeckias, or coneflowers, are the slightly more elegant, their flowers rather less orange, which for some people will be a plus. They are also tall , perhaps reaching two meters where the soil suits, with not unattractive foliage, at which point I perhaps should stress that I am writing about R. laciniata and R. nitida, there being many other species, including those we treat as annuals, flowering for the most part earlier in the season. I grow R.Herbstsonne and R.Juligold, both bought along with Cosmic Whispers from the indispensable Bernard Lacrouts who says that they are varieties of R.laciniata but there seems to be some disagreement about this. It is too early for me to give a proper assessment. This was their first summer with me and both found the secheresse difficult. There is mention of them needing moist soil to do well so this is a worry, but in my view this summer was slightly exceptional so I am still hopeful that they will thrive.
As for the helianthus I should perhaps begin by quoting Graham Stuart Thomas who stated that he could not 'write about them with any enthusiasm. Their large daisy flowers are of a brilliant yellow, their leaves coarse and rough, the taller varieties have running roots and need staking'. Donc . . ! In fact perhaps the most commonly planted H.Lemon Queen, which I see has got an RHS Award of Merit, has, as the name suggests, rather pale yellow flowers. I am not in fact a great fan finding the flowers just a bit too dull - if you are going to go yellow why not go the whole hog, especially where there is bright sunshine - but clearly it pleases a lot of people. Its roots are quite invasive, but because they spread just under the surface of the soil they are quite easy to pull up. Perhaps slightly less easy are the roots of H.tuberosus, none other than the Jerusalem artichoke, or in French topinambour. Its flowers are pretty ordinary but they make a nice splash of yellow, and after they are over you can make soup with the roots !
I am not sure how invasive the roots of H.Cosmic Whispers are, though for the moment it looks as if they are not going to be a problem. Even without flowers the plant is quite impressive, so much so, and having lost its label, I wondered what on earth it was, but of course the flowers are the chief feature. They appear in great quantity, of a bright, clear yellow,and seemingly over a longish period, but where they differ is in the formation of their petals. These are slightly elongated giving them touch of elegance lacking in their 'cousins'.
So if you cope with yellow daisies go for Cosmic Whispers, which along with most of the above, seems to me to go very well with the tall Michaelmas daisies mostly in blues and reds with a touch of purple which are one of the great glories of the autumn scene, and incidentally all much loved by the late butterflies. Meanwhile the autumn pyrotechnics are under way, though this year rather diminished by the lack of rain. As a vital part of this scene can I yet again strongly recommend two trees, Pistacia chinensis and Pyrus Chanticleer.neither are in my view sufficiently well known in this area which is why I go on about them. The pear has the advantage of abundant spring flowers, both have amazing autumn colour, the pear's leaves turning particularly late which helps to prolong the autumn show. But perhaps most important of all both seem unaffected by our dry hot summers. One could hardly ask for more.
P.S. I should have mentioned that Lacrouts sells nine diffierent varieties of helianthus including H. Guillick's Variety which he refers to as the 'le soleil classique'
As for the helianthus I should perhaps begin by quoting Graham Stuart Thomas who stated that he could not 'write about them with any enthusiasm. Their large daisy flowers are of a brilliant yellow, their leaves coarse and rough, the taller varieties have running roots and need staking'. Donc . . ! In fact perhaps the most commonly planted H.Lemon Queen, which I see has got an RHS Award of Merit, has, as the name suggests, rather pale yellow flowers. I am not in fact a great fan finding the flowers just a bit too dull - if you are going to go yellow why not go the whole hog, especially where there is bright sunshine - but clearly it pleases a lot of people. Its roots are quite invasive, but because they spread just under the surface of the soil they are quite easy to pull up. Perhaps slightly less easy are the roots of H.tuberosus, none other than the Jerusalem artichoke, or in French topinambour. Its flowers are pretty ordinary but they make a nice splash of yellow, and after they are over you can make soup with the roots !
I am not sure how invasive the roots of H.Cosmic Whispers are, though for the moment it looks as if they are not going to be a problem. Even without flowers the plant is quite impressive, so much so, and having lost its label, I wondered what on earth it was, but of course the flowers are the chief feature. They appear in great quantity, of a bright, clear yellow,and seemingly over a longish period, but where they differ is in the formation of their petals. These are slightly elongated giving them touch of elegance lacking in their 'cousins'.
So if you cope with yellow daisies go for Cosmic Whispers, which along with most of the above, seems to me to go very well with the tall Michaelmas daisies mostly in blues and reds with a touch of purple which are one of the great glories of the autumn scene, and incidentally all much loved by the late butterflies. Meanwhile the autumn pyrotechnics are under way, though this year rather diminished by the lack of rain. As a vital part of this scene can I yet again strongly recommend two trees, Pistacia chinensis and Pyrus Chanticleer.neither are in my view sufficiently well known in this area which is why I go on about them. The pear has the advantage of abundant spring flowers, both have amazing autumn colour, the pear's leaves turning particularly late which helps to prolong the autumn show. But perhaps most important of all both seem unaffected by our dry hot summers. One could hardly ask for more.
P.S. I should have mentioned that Lacrouts sells nine diffierent varieties of helianthus including H. Guillick's Variety which he refers to as the 'le soleil classique'
Wednesday, 10 October 2012
Survivors !
I had thought of entitling this blog 'Successes', but in the end it seemed a bit too triumphal in a summer which has really tested us all. From May to September here we have had 124 ml of rain when the average for these months is around 300 ml to which one should add the fact that it has been exceptionally hot as well with temperatures often over 30 C. So one might well argue that anything that has survived can be counted a success, and of course there have been one or two survivors.
To start with something really quite ordinary, the Perovskia. There are various ones on the market, but I suspect that mine are the most common, P.atriplicifolia Blue Spire, and anyway I for one have not taken in the differences, though I do not see much point in acquiring a P.Little Spire. Many of you will know it, perhaps under the name Russian Sage with quite fine grey foliage and fronds of blue flowers over a long period - mine are still showing colour having started somewhere near the end of June. Treat it like a buddlejia and cut it right down early in the year it seems to resist anything that the weather might throw at it.. My guess is that it is better in an open bed, or even in the dreaded Prairie Garden where mine are, than in a traditional border, where it tends to flop seeking no doubt the sun, but of course it can always be staked. I am adding to my collection since I have come, perhaps rather late, to the decision that I need more of the common, or perhaps along with our new President I should say 'normal' plants. I am thinking here of Hibiscus, lagerstroemias, lavenders, rosemarys, plants that do not turn a hair as the temperatures mount into the thirties.
Many of the grasses seem to pass this test, and I do mean grasses rather than sedges which do demand more water. The great advantages of grasses is that they do not have flowers, or not at least in the ordinary sense of the word, for it is often the flowers that suffer most in the heat. Either they do not appear at all, or they are over far too soon. Grasses in the same heat may look a little browned off but after all it is their browning in late autumn that we anyway look forward to, and though most of them would welcome a bit water, they do not seem to need it. Can I in particular praise the Panicums. They are not as big as the Miscanthus or at least they are not in my garden, though having just glanced at Neil Lucas's 'Designing with Grasses', a book I can strongly recommend, I see that many of them can get to 3 meters or more. I have grown with pleasure for some time P. virgatum Heavy Metal, but am new to P.v.Dallas Blue which as the name suggests has bluish leaves and very showy flower panicles which makes it for me a bit of a star.
Most roses have suffered a bit, which is to say that their second and third flowering, that is if they do repeat, has been less good than usual. Among the exceptions to this I would definitely include David Austin's Crown Princess Margereta, which increasingly think is one of the best that he has produced, and in flower now on our walls and pergolas Ena Harkness, Lady Hillingdon and Sombreuil. I have actually lost one or two roses that I planted in the Spring, partly as a result of carelessness, but it has been very difficult to keep an eye on everything, but by and large roses do survive the secheresse and most will make a strong comeback next year. And while I think about I want to put in a good word for Mrs B.R.Cant, a rather pedestrian name for what I first took to be a rather pedestrian rose. However it was recommended to me by Becky and John Hook of La Roseraie du Desert, so perhaps it is not so surprising that I have changed my mind. It is certainly a survivor having come through this summer without needing a drop of water and I am now enjoying its third significant flush of flowers. The colour has been one of my worries. It is a strong pink which I suppose is not my favourite but better perhaps than a pink that gets washed out by strong sunlight. The flower itself is rather beautifully formed, and perhaps above all it appears at the end of a long stem, which makes it ideal for cutting. So all in all a rose well worth looking out for, especially as it does not seem to suffer from any of the prevalent rose diseases.
Other survivors would include the achilleas. I am not talking here of the very many varieties of Achillea millefolium in all shades of of colour and with names like Cassis and Paprika. They are often recommnded for the dry garden, but they do not do at all with me, seemingly needing more water than I am prepared to give them; No, I am talking of the tall plants in various shades of yellow with names such as Cloth of Cold or Gold Plate. Mine are mainly Ach. filipendulina Parker's Variety which I grew from seed. They are imposing plants which seem to resist the secheresse and have quite a long flowering period. So another 'normal' plant that I am increasingly concentrating on.
But having been a plant snob all my life I find it difficult to shake of my old love of the unusual. I am not sure just how unusual Mandevilla laxa is but I do not think that it is often seen. It is much like a white Morning Glory but with the advantage of a good scent, though sadly not one that appears to carry any distance, so you have to stick your nose in the flower. It has pretty enough leaf, and this year mine has covered a wide area of the front fascade of the house and has been in flower for a long period. It hails from South America so one worries about its survival in the winter, but all I can say is that it came through the last one without any problems which means that we can call it a survivor.
To start with something really quite ordinary, the Perovskia. There are various ones on the market, but I suspect that mine are the most common, P.atriplicifolia Blue Spire, and anyway I for one have not taken in the differences, though I do not see much point in acquiring a P.Little Spire. Many of you will know it, perhaps under the name Russian Sage with quite fine grey foliage and fronds of blue flowers over a long period - mine are still showing colour having started somewhere near the end of June. Treat it like a buddlejia and cut it right down early in the year it seems to resist anything that the weather might throw at it.. My guess is that it is better in an open bed, or even in the dreaded Prairie Garden where mine are, than in a traditional border, where it tends to flop seeking no doubt the sun, but of course it can always be staked. I am adding to my collection since I have come, perhaps rather late, to the decision that I need more of the common, or perhaps along with our new President I should say 'normal' plants. I am thinking here of Hibiscus, lagerstroemias, lavenders, rosemarys, plants that do not turn a hair as the temperatures mount into the thirties.
Many of the grasses seem to pass this test, and I do mean grasses rather than sedges which do demand more water. The great advantages of grasses is that they do not have flowers, or not at least in the ordinary sense of the word, for it is often the flowers that suffer most in the heat. Either they do not appear at all, or they are over far too soon. Grasses in the same heat may look a little browned off but after all it is their browning in late autumn that we anyway look forward to, and though most of them would welcome a bit water, they do not seem to need it. Can I in particular praise the Panicums. They are not as big as the Miscanthus or at least they are not in my garden, though having just glanced at Neil Lucas's 'Designing with Grasses', a book I can strongly recommend, I see that many of them can get to 3 meters or more. I have grown with pleasure for some time P. virgatum Heavy Metal, but am new to P.v.Dallas Blue which as the name suggests has bluish leaves and very showy flower panicles which makes it for me a bit of a star.
Most roses have suffered a bit, which is to say that their second and third flowering, that is if they do repeat, has been less good than usual. Among the exceptions to this I would definitely include David Austin's Crown Princess Margereta, which increasingly think is one of the best that he has produced, and in flower now on our walls and pergolas Ena Harkness, Lady Hillingdon and Sombreuil. I have actually lost one or two roses that I planted in the Spring, partly as a result of carelessness, but it has been very difficult to keep an eye on everything, but by and large roses do survive the secheresse and most will make a strong comeback next year. And while I think about I want to put in a good word for Mrs B.R.Cant, a rather pedestrian name for what I first took to be a rather pedestrian rose. However it was recommended to me by Becky and John Hook of La Roseraie du Desert, so perhaps it is not so surprising that I have changed my mind. It is certainly a survivor having come through this summer without needing a drop of water and I am now enjoying its third significant flush of flowers. The colour has been one of my worries. It is a strong pink which I suppose is not my favourite but better perhaps than a pink that gets washed out by strong sunlight. The flower itself is rather beautifully formed, and perhaps above all it appears at the end of a long stem, which makes it ideal for cutting. So all in all a rose well worth looking out for, especially as it does not seem to suffer from any of the prevalent rose diseases.
Other survivors would include the achilleas. I am not talking here of the very many varieties of Achillea millefolium in all shades of of colour and with names like Cassis and Paprika. They are often recommnded for the dry garden, but they do not do at all with me, seemingly needing more water than I am prepared to give them; No, I am talking of the tall plants in various shades of yellow with names such as Cloth of Cold or Gold Plate. Mine are mainly Ach. filipendulina Parker's Variety which I grew from seed. They are imposing plants which seem to resist the secheresse and have quite a long flowering period. So another 'normal' plant that I am increasingly concentrating on.
But having been a plant snob all my life I find it difficult to shake of my old love of the unusual. I am not sure just how unusual Mandevilla laxa is but I do not think that it is often seen. It is much like a white Morning Glory but with the advantage of a good scent, though sadly not one that appears to carry any distance, so you have to stick your nose in the flower. It has pretty enough leaf, and this year mine has covered a wide area of the front fascade of the house and has been in flower for a long period. It hails from South America so one worries about its survival in the winter, but all I can say is that it came through the last one without any problems which means that we can call it a survivor.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)