March stirrings

I've decided to start a monthly blog for anyone who might be thinking of moving to southwest France and wonders what it's like to garden in a different climate.  My partner, Christina, and I were both keen gardeners  when we lived in England, but "work" always seemed to get in the way when it was fine weather and we both longed to be outdoors.

Hence we moved to Charente Maritime where we can get an income from our holiday cottage whilst looking after various gardens. 

Back garden in September - seems a long way off now!

Many Brits own second homes in the area and like to have an English-style garden without being here all the time to maintain it.  This is where we help out!

Le jardin anglais is often admired by the French but in practice most of them prefer a low-maintenance option of grass dotted with the occasional fruit tree and/or shrub, which can be mown around once a week.  These still look pretty because such gardens are usually very well-tended, but possibly they lack imagination... on the other hand, our French neighbours do put a good deal of energy into their immaculate "potagers", so we can be equally admiring of those.
This is a great climate for growing plants as there's not much frost, the temperature rarely dips below -10'C, and we have long hours of sunshine all year round.  Plants and gardens mature quite quickly so it's a satisfying life for the impatient gardener.

We're just starting to get to grips with a new growing season after a particularly frustrating winter.  As in the UK, we've endured weeks of rain which have left the landscape pooled with unusual lakes and rivulets, not to mention those bright green lawns full of moss.


Bare bones of the garden in early March



But definitely the worst thing of all - in the ten years we've been here - has been the relentless rampage of weeds!  A damp, mildish winter means heaven for all manner of creeping, drilling, co-habiting seedlings which have taken up residence around our "choice" plants.  They converge into solid mats of greenery which are hard to dislodge without disturbing the roots of the good guys - it takes patience and skilled surgery to prise them out.

What I do love about March, however, is the discovery of all those other generous plants that have seeded themselves in unexpected places and are now romping away. 

We play host to babies of larkspur, viola, hellebores, foxgloves and Californian poppy - the latter seen here surrounded by a little forest of canes topped with empty snail shells.  (These totems aren't designed to deter slugs and snails so much as our cat, Couscous, who alights upon any empty space for his toilet!)

In complete contrast to our east-facing back garden, the herbs shown here are flourishing in a sheltered southerly garden which contains more rubble than real soil, providing the sharp drainage enjoyed by woody-stemmed lavender, thyme, rosemary and santolina. 

There are two types of santolina here: both produce yellow button flowers but the green mounded version (bottom right) smells exactly like olives.  The whole ensemble puts me in mind of a Greek hillside, even in midwinter.  Intoxicating!



Bank of aubretia, box and a small sedum



And talking of rubble-strewn areas, which dry out in summer but attract weeds when it rains, take a look at this sloping stretch of aubretia, soon to turn into a billowing mauve blanket.  I adore this little carpeter for its ability to withstand drought: it shrivels to practically nothing in September but comes bouncing back in March, almost by magic, and acts as a brilliant weed-suppressant.

This thick-pile carpet came about a couple of years ago after Christina had planted up some box cuttings which kept drying out in the sun.  Without really thinking, I surrounded them with a mulch of spent aubretia which I'd just cut off after it had flowered elsewhere in the garden. 

Come the damp autumn, I noticed with amazement that all these little seeds had germinated around the box cuttings!  So I did the same thing again last year, filling in any gaps with bunches of spent aubretia, and now there's scarcely room for anything else to germinate.  Try it yourself on a barren patch of stony soil.

Hope you've found something of interest in these glimpses of French gardens.  As Nature is getting so busy now, I'll probably be writing some more before the month is out... Happy Gardening!

If you want to see more pictures of the cottage and surrounding area, check out our website at www.charentefarmcottage.com