The End of Winter

Start of the Year

Spring has really arrived but what a long and strange year 2020 has been. Thank goodness for gardening. I am afraid that writing this blog ground to a halt. I partly blame apathy but also that WordPress changed their interface and I have not got to grips with the new system. Or perhaps I should say that I have not really tried to get to grips with it. Anyway here goes- gardening has not stopped and this is the best time of year.

The snowdrops were wonderful but they are almost all over apart from Galadriel and Polar Bear. All the clumps have steadily enlarged so now I need to do some dividing and replanting. I have acquired a few more (no surprise there) so have reached the 100 mark. However, I have resolved to move on to daffodils and other resilient spring bulbs unless I am really tempted by something very different in the snowdrop family.

Galanthus “Grumpy”

Galanthus “Mrs MacNamara”

Wildlife and Colour

The garden is bursting with life.  Large bumble bees are buzzing round the garden, the first butterflies have emerged from winter hibernation and birds are pairing up and establishing their territories. Yellow and blue are definitely the predominant colours – primroses, forsythia, expanses of daffodils, carpets of blue Anemone blanda, euphorbias, Chionodoxa (Scilla) luciliae and just a few blooms of the intensely blue Scilla siberica. Iris reticulata are over as are the winter aconites (Eranthis hyemalis) but they added to the welcome early colour. Roll on spring!

Iris reticulata Lady Beatrix Stanley

Iris reticulata Katharine Hodgkin

Winter aconite

Colourful Autumn “Daisies”

Daisy-like perennials

Daisy-like perennials come into their own at this time of year. Heleniums, coreopsis, dahlias, echinacea and rudbeckia provide a real blast of colour

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Purples and pinks

The blues, purples and pinks of asters are equally satisfying and are enjoyed by the bees-autumn has lots to offer.

Autumn at Upper Green

Autumn fruit and colour

Colours are changing, there is a nip in the air and the hedgerows as well as the garden are full of fruit including plums, apples, hips, haws and sloes. I saw a whitethroat the other day balancing precariously on a bramble bush and tucking into a juicy blackberry. We like blackberries too and have picked plenty for the freezer.

Gardening Ants

The garden is full of purple and white Cyclamen hederifolium. The seeds are spread about by ants which are attracted by the fleshy coating. These helpful gardeners take the seeds carefully back to their underground nests where the coating feeds the colony, but the seed germinates and a cyclamen will pop up somewhere unexpected.

Naked ladies

My new colchicums (naked ladies) have just put in an appearance. The large strappy leaves, which appear after the flowers (hence the naked), are untidy and take up quite a lot of space but I think the flowers may be worth the investment. I have Colchicum byzantinum “Innocence” (white) and Colchicum speciosum (purple) – just a few flowers of each as it is their first year but they hold promise, always provided the slugs leave them alone.  

Garden giants and dwarfs

Helianthus salicifolius (willow-leaved sunflower) has produced clusters of small yellow daisies more than 6-foot up, far too high to enjoy them properly. It is just as well that I grow the plant for the architectural impact of the wonderfully long narrow willow-like leaves that clothe the arching stems leaves rather than the flowers.

At the other end of the scale is the dainty Acis autumnalis, (autumn snowflake) in my gravel bed, no more than a foot in height, with tiny nodding, bell-shaped, white flowers. I would like to have the pink form too- something to look out for when I browse the catalogues this autumn.

Notes from Upper Green

NGS openings

It has been a while since I have sat down to write something. The garden has been  looking lovely and when lock down eased a few weeks ago, we opened for the NGS charities on a number of weekends. The new system is so easy for garden owners. All we do is let the NGS know when we want to open, the length of each timed slot and specify the number of people that can come safely into the garden in each slot- in our case ten people per hour. No teas, no cake, no loo, no money to be collected as tickets are booked on line and no local advertising- it all happens on the NGS website. It worked very well. Everyone is keen to get out and we enjoyed chatting, albeit at a safe distance, to real people, many of whom were keen and knowledgeable gardeners. We will continue to open so do check the NGS website and come and see us.

I thought I would share some of the garden highlights over the last few months.

May

Tulips

Most tulips are over by May but the pillar-box red flowers of the late flowering species tulip,  Tulipa sprengeri, are a delight and as it self-seeds, it is slowly spreading. It likes well-drained soil so does particularly well in the gravelly soil on my rock bed. The fat striped seed heads are also decorative but I need to be careful I do not break the stems until the seeds are ripe.

Damp bed

The combination of Rodgersia podophylla and Iris pseudacorus ‘Variegata’  is particularly lovely in spring. We had a frost in early May, but this year I remembered to protect the rodgersia with a fleece blanket when I heard the forecast, so the only damage was at one edge where the wind lifted off the fleece. Those leaves soon curled up, became crispy and turned a sad dark brown. You can also just make out the small starry orangey-yellow flowers of  Epimedium ‘Amber Queen’  in front of the rodgersia.

I was thrilled by my fabulous Formosan lady’s slipper orchid,  Cypripedium formosanum, which looked great in the damp bed throughout April and much of May.

June

Roses and Lilies

By now the garden was in over-drive. The weather was hot and everything has been early this year. The roses were magnificent. The weight and shadow cast by the vigorous growth of the ramblers, Rosa ‘Paul’s Himalayan Musk’ and Rosa ‘Francis. E. Lester’, are threatening the health of the apple trees that support them. This year we will have to indulge in some fairly radical pruning. The apricot flowers of the climber, Schoolgirl, looked so lovely against the brick walls of the cottage and combined beautifully with the adjacent orange flowers of the lily ‘Forever Susan’.

Pots

I confess to having mixed feelings about pots because they need cherishing and even more mixed feelings about succulents which not only need cherishing outside but have to come inside in the winter. However I have to admit that I am enjoying this collection of odds and ends and the sempervivums are a tough bunch, which do tolerate my rather laissez-faire attitude.

Bug Hotel

We have missed contact with the grandchildren but Peter made a fine bug hotel out of some old pallets. Lena (5) enjoyed adding to it when she finally came to visit us again.

 

April at Upper Green

Plants and muntjac deer

It has been so mild that the garden has really come alive but  the unseasonably warm weather that led to all that flowering has also led to the rapid demise of some garden beauties including many small tulips. To my horror I discovered that the muntjac have been busy munching emerging tulips in the front garden – they had stopped doing this in recent years- so I have re-erected a protective barricade around the stately and rich dark purple  “Queen of the Night” – which means of course that neither I nor the muntjace can take pleasure in the  flowers. However the muntjac do not seem to be interested in smaller varieties of tulip and they are welcome to the leaves of the invasive spanish bluebells which I inherited from a previous owner and muntjac seem to enjoy. Fortunately muntjac show no desire to eat the wonderful Allium schubertii nor the large leaves of the colchicums I planted this year.

Protection around enrging tulips

Tulip “Little Beauty”

Spring Bed

At this time of year the spring bed comes into its own and Amelanchier × grandiflora ‘Ballerina’ is a definite highlight. The dainty white blossom is followed by unfurling bronze-tinged foliage. The profusion of large, white flowers gives it the name, Snowy mespilus, and these flowers produce little purplish edible berries  (I have never tried to eat them). The small tree adds to the dappled shade for woodlanders in this bed.

Camellias

My Dad’s old camellias have been magnificent this year in their tubs of special compost for acid-lovers. The blossom on Camellia × williamsii ‘Donation’ has been particularly fine. But it has been so dry I have had to water already using our precious rainwater.

More spring bulbs

Fritillaries are true stand-out plants. I love them all but fail to grow so many. However the crown imperials and snakes-heads have excelled. I am also delighted that the tiny clump of Scilla siberica below the apple tree is ever so slowly enlarging. Not a  river of blue or even a trickle yet – more of a small puddle, but on the increase nevertheless.

 

Spring and Social Isolation

Life in Upper Green

What difficult times we live in but thank goodness for the garden which is bursting with life. Daphne, camellias, daffodils, tulips, primulas, fritillaries and so much more. Spring has arrived with a bang. I have seen the first butterflies of the year- brimstones, small tortoiseshells and even a lone peacock. The birds are pairing up and nest building has commenced. But the local pheasant and the muntjac deer are not such welcome visitors- bother. A game pie would be very tasty.

Narcissi

Narcisssi come in all shapes and sizes, the deer do not eat them, most are easy to grow so the clumps thicken up with time, many are sweetly scented and, at this time of year, they provide so much pleasure.

Tulips

Tulips are another spring flower that give the garden a lift, but sadly the muntjac deer will make a meal out of them given half a chance and a deer was trotting through our “fenced off” back garden this evening. There must be a gap somewhere or the deer is prepared to leap higher than in the past and I wonder how many of my lovely tulips will still be standing in the morning.

Fritillaries

And then there are fritillaries. I have had problems with crown imperials in the past but this year they are standing tall and the yellow ones have even increased. The snake’s head fritillaries never fail – they are looking superb in the marsh and are even spreading in our little meadow area.

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Snowdrop Season at Upper Green

Snowdrop Legends

The sun is shining and drifts of snowdrops, “February’s Fairmaid”, are a joy. I have been preparing a very brief chat on snowdrops for the Friends of the Oxford Botanic Gardens who meet for coffee on the first Friday of the month. This prompted me to look up some of the legends associated with this most magical of winter flowers. For example did you know that snowdrops have been known as “Eve’s Tears” or “Eve’s Comforters”? Apparently poor Eve was weeping when she was cast out of the Garden of Eden and a friendly angel breathed on a tear and changed it to a snowdrop. They are linked to purity in the Catholic church and were traditionally carried in Candlemas processions which is why they are often found growing along the way to village churches.

In Greek mythology, Persephone brought back snowdrops from the underworld so they are linked to both death and, according to the language of flowers,  hope- the emergence of the hardy snowdrop heralds spring and the start of a new year.  The snowdrop may even have been the magical plant “Moly” that Hermes gave Odysseus to protect him from beautiful Circe’s magic. Snowdrops contain the centrally acting anticholinesterase, galanthamine, while Circe’s potions may have contained centrally acting anticholinergic toxins to induce amnesia in Odysseus’ crew (although I am not sure that includes turning them into swine- but perhaps they just thought they had become swine). Perhaps a snowdrop might have helped to vanquish Circe, but Odysseus also brought his sword.

I was pleased to read that, according to garden folklore, before moving a snowdrop, one should always tell it what is happening or it will not thrive- I am not the only gardener who chats to her plants. But I suspect my leaf mould and little bonemeal also help.

Snowdrop taxonomy

The taxonomy is complicated. There are at least 20 species of snowdrop and probably more than 2500 hybrids and cultivars. Identification depends on the morphology of both the leaves and the flowers and now DNA. My snowdrops are mainly types of nivalis (the Common snowdrop), plicatus (Crimean or Turkish snowdrop with broad dark green or greyish pleated leaves) or elwesii (Greater snowdrop with broad silver-grey leaves).

The first record of G. nivalis in this country is in John Gerard’s herbal (1597) and G. plicatus was brought back by soldiers returning from the Crimean war in the 1800s. One of these days the snowdrop market will surely crash, as with tulipmania in the 1600s. Many of the cultivars look pretty much identical, even when you “lift their skirts” to check out the green markings,  and I am not sure for how long these fancy snowdrops will command ridiculous prices. One bulb sold for more than £1000 in 2019 on e-bay- crazy! However I am enjoying my growing collection and it is a delight to share my love with other enthusiasts who visit the garden- as well as with the early solitary bees, queen bumblebees and other emerging insects who need the snowdrop nectar and pollen.

 

 

Autumn and Rain at Upper Green

Frosts in November

We had a brief spell of chilly weather in November with the odd frost which I hope  destroyed some of the molluscs. The misty mornings were a bonus.

Looking across the ha-ha at the bottom of the garden

Mahonias are flowering and the green flowers of Helleborus foetidus, our native stinking hellebore, always look rather lovely at this time of year.

The gravel bed has shape and colour throughout the year.

Rain in December

Now it is just wet, very wet. It feels as if December has offered nothing but weeks of rain. The ground is sodden. Not a good time to walk on this heavy clay- stepping stones are essential in flower beds to prevent compaction. The sun has appeared briefly but this was soon followed by yet more rain or gloomy cloud. Despite the rain I have filled my leaf bin with a fine mix of mainly oak (collected from our village churchyard), and beech (collected from several nearby villages). Job done so I have removed my collecting equipment (large sack, 2 small boards and a bamboo rake) from the back of my car. 

The pond is also full and ready for the return of the newts in the spring.

Colour and Scent

The garden has colour and scent despite the prevailing gloom. One just has to wrap up (hap up as we say in Northern Ireland) and get out there to enjoy it. I was delighted to see an early crocus (Crocus laevigatus ‘Fontenayi’)- which sadly was all too soon eaten by a marauding slug or perhaps the local pheasant. There are still a few flowers on the climbing rose (Schoolgirl) and Iris unguicularis ‘Walter Butt‘ (previously known as Iris stylosa) has started to flower. This iris produced no flowers last year but this year it seems to be happy.

Shrubs such as Pittosporum ‘Tom Thumb’ and Viburnum tinus also offer welcome colour-shiny black leaves in the case of the pittosporum and white umbels on the viburnum.

And then there are the snowdrops! Much to look forward too.

 

 

 

 

Colour, Shape and Snowdrops at Upper Green

Autumn Snowdrops

The first snowdrops have been in flower for a couple of weeks (and I still think look a little strange at this time of year). Galanthus reginae-olgae has 19 flowers- what a contrast to previous years when I have been lucky to find one or two flowers. Something about this summer must have reminded them of their home in Sicily and the west and north-west Balkans. It is rather lovely to remember that the name honours Queen Olga of Greece (grandmother of the Duke of Edinburgh). The little snowdrops are overshadowed by the adjacent Nerine ‘Zeal Giant’ which has also done exceptionally well this year. The lovely pink Nerine bowdenii are also still in full flower.

G. reginae-olgae

Nerine Zeal’s Giant

I am fortunate to have one flower (a slug got the second one) on Galanthus peshmenii, a relative of G. elwesii, which I was given last year by my good friend and alpine expert, Barry Hennessey. Apparently G. peshmenii was originally thought to be a Turkish form of G. reginae-olgae. It grows in coastal Turkey and nearby islands, but it is now acknowledged to be a species in its own right. The little flower is dwarfed by the spectacular star-burst seedheads of Allium schubertii.

Allium schubertii

G. pesmenii

Autumn foliage and fruit

Autumn colours are reaching their peak. The light green leaves of Acer palmatum var. dissectum ‘Seiryu’  have turned a spectacular crimson, lighting up the patio but the show will soon be over and the leaves will start to fall.

I am already collecting up leaves for leaf mold. It will take about 2 years for them to rot down to a fine dark brown tilth but it is worth waiting. I have just applied some  2-year old mold to my snowdrops- a most luxurious mulch. The addition of a touch of bone-meal should ensure a great display.

Colour in the garden is also supplied by the lovely rose-pink and orange fruits of the spindle, Euonymus europaeus ‘Red Cascade’ .

Shape in the garden

The topiary and cloud pruning are taking shape and are already giving the garden year-round structure.

I have just bought a book on Japanese gardens and pruning techniques which is full of inspiration- more things to try out in 2020!

Autumn at Upper Green

Colour

The Michaelmas daisies have been wonderful and are still pretty good. When the sun shone, the bees really appreciated them. These American garden asters have been renamed Symphyotrichum- what a mouthful. I am afraid that I unashamedly stick to Michaelmas daisy, so much more straightforward. I have divided most of the clumps within the last couple of years and now they are flowering with renewed vigour- all except one of my favourites- the shocking pink Symphyotrichum (Aster) novae-angliae  ‘Alma Potschke’. She is not doing well and needs to be moved so she is not over-shadowed by her neighbours. I have found the perfect spot and may even move her now, as the weather is mild and damp, rather than waiting until the spring. Next year I should be able to enjoy her in all her gaudy glory.

My Mum’s Nerine bowdenii have responded well to a move and summer sun. The bulbs were producing more and more lush leaves but fewer and fewer flowers. The heavy clay in the border was offering far too rich a diet and they were not getting enough sun. So we dug them out (quite a job as the bulbs had multiplied alarmingly), put some in pots, gave some away and moved others to a sunny well-drained spot. The result – lots of flowers and more to come. A most satisfactory outcome.

….and form

The amazing Willow-leaved or Missouri sunflower (Helianthus salicifolius) is as imposing as ever. The tall stems clothed in long, drooping willow-like leaves reaching up to the sky and now are topped by clusters of small bright yellow daisies. A most improbable and glorious plant, such an entertaining architectural feature in the middle of my bed.

Rooper’s red-hot poker (Kniphofia rooperi) is another hit with the most amazing egg-shaped bright orange-red flowers that fade to yellow-orange. I planted it 2 years ago and it had no flowers last year, but this year four spikes are emerging from between the strappy leaves. Eventually I hope for an eye-catching clump of 4-foot tall flowering stems.

Preparing for Spring

Mr B. cut the mini wildflower meadow on the ha-ha bank, scarified what was left and raked up the loose moss and grass. I have scattered more wildflower seeds on the bare patches and hope the Yellow rattle will do its job and continue to reduce the vigour of the grass. I have planted just a few Fritillaria michailovskyi  on one side and Fritillaria acmopetala on the other. It would be lovely if they “do” but I suspect the slugs will go for them, as they have before. I live in hope.