Hot Flushes

Take time to sit out and enjoy your garden!

Relax... it's easier said than done now that everything is growing apace.  Hard to find time for picking a few flowers to decorate the lunch table, even though we have more than enough blooms to spare and vases that sit in cupboards rarely seeing the light of day.

Even the above picture is 'contrived', insofar as we had to come up with a new shot for the lettings website and needed to make the table look more colourful.  But, I'm glad we took a few moments because acid green and mauve complement each another so well.



Lunaria rediviva



It's funny how each year certain wild plants tend to predominate, according to how their seeds have been distributed and what kind of weather prevails.

This time it's definitely the turn of honesty, which has seeded itself in various (cooler) places around the back garden but also chose quite a 'hot spot' here next to the euphorbia.  They look fabulous with the afternoon light shining through them.

In addition to tall clumps of honesty, our wet winter has also led to a lot more cowslips along the verges... gosh, it almost looks like England! 

Brunnera macrophylla 'Variegata'

In shadier parts of the garden it's still early spring and another happy combination is provided by a brunnera which is flowering next to a stately Helleborus foetidus. 


Although it wouldn't have been my first choice, I've come to love this brunnera which was given to us by a gardening friend.  It has the double attraction of silvery green leaves overlaid with delicate sprays of blue flowers. 


The flowers are slightly smaller than those of the myosotis scattered around it and, once they've finished, those variegated leaves actually provide even more interest.  Unlike many of our other perennials, brunnera stays compact and doesn't seed itself all over the garden.  Altogether trouble-free.

Ranunculus fluitans

For those who read my earlier post concerning the possible invasion of our local ponds by water hawthorn, I'm thrilled to report that after extensive research on Google Image - so useful - I've come to the conclusion it's actually something called water crowfoot, an altogether more delicate member of the buttercup family.

We found it growing in a dewpond over the road and got close enough to see the individual flowerheads - 5 petals with a golden centre.  Instead of being a menace, it's a sign of clean water apparently; but I've yet to find mention of its exquisite scent.

Elsewhere on the marais, reed beds are filling out and providing nest sites for various birds, whilst bulrushes are starting to explode with seeds.  I once made the mistake of bringing some home and leaving them in a pot in the garden... thank goodness I didn't actually bring them indoors.  When they let go of their seeds it's as if someone has had a fight with a kapok pillow - fluff flying all over the place! 

In the space of a week, those hillsides which were lined with snowy blackthorn blossom are now edged with the even whiter blooms of wild cherry (Prunus avium), interspersed with the creamier guelder rose (Viburnum opulus).

As gardeners, we can't help being interested in what's going on in the landscape all around us.  In this climate particularly, our scenery changes on an almost daily basis as warm air and bright sunlight encourage flowers to bloom and fade quickly, leaves to unfurl, catkins to drop.  Each day is to be relished for its unique qualities.

And whilst our gardens are carefully tended, it's also important to have some 'wildings' like honesty and forget-me-not to take up residence where they please.  We're cottage gardeners at heart and like nothing better to see things growing in a natural fashion, filling in spaces (nature abhors a vacuum...), adding some vibrant colour and scenting the air with ephemeral perfume.

One plant does all three and is well worth growing from seed in autumn - the humble wallflower.  Last year I planted up our sunny front verge with some seedlings, cursing the fact that it was a mixed packet and I couldn't tell which particular colours would emerge.  Somehow, they all managed to be slightly different but equally stunning, in sight and scent.  So my advice would be - 'Grab yourself a packet this summer' !

Cheiranthus cheiri 'Persian Carpet'