Still 'Springing' ?



First leaves on a walnut tree

We've reached a point in nature's cycle when I'm unsure whether this is 'late Spring' or 'early Summer'...?  In our south-facing garden it's definitely the latter, and there have been plenty of swimmers at the beach already, celebrating half-term break; but if you're waking up to a north-east wind, it can still feel like a fresh Spring day. 

Most of our trees are now in leaf and/or in flower, with walnut being one of the last to come out.  Its exquisite coppery leaves and trailing catkins would lend themselves to a Chinese brush painting as they catch the morning light, delicately threaded with spiders' silk. 

Lemon-scented iris

 
Early this morning I cycled down our back lane to collect some fresh nettles from the woodland edge where they grow in damp soil.  I noticed that on one side of the lane the marshland ditches were dotted with yellow flag iris.  They reminded me of the fabulous cultivated iris, given to us by a French gardening friend who was passionate about collecting different colours.  Until we grew some of these ourselves, I'd never realised how subtly scented they are - yellow varieties, in particular, have a real citrusy tang.

Anyway, my reason for braving the nettle patch (with secateurs and a sturdy pair of gloves) was to make up a brew of 'nettle tea' to use as fertiliser for the container plants.  The nettles haven't yet flowered, so I picked about twenty stems and stuffed them into a plastic bag, still managing to sting my wrist which wasn't covered!  I was accompanied in this chore by a pair of nightingales singing to each other lustily from the depths of a nearby copse. 

Early vines

On my way home I passed a vineyard where the grapevines were also coming into leaf.  I love to watch their sculpted leaves unfurl, revealing downy buds tinged with pink in which you can almost discern bunches of grapes in miniature.

But my mission was to brew nettles not wine!  My method is to put leaves and stems into an old galvanised watering can, fill it up with water and cover the opening to keep heat inside.  The air temperature is warm enough now to make this brew ferment within a few days... it bubbles a little, smells fairly rank, but produces a soupy green liquid which can then be further diluted with water and used as a regular feed.

All you need for a nitrogen feed

I use a metal can to make and store the juice, but then pour about a quarter of the liquid into a normal plastic can and fill it up with water.  Top Tip - don't try watering with the rose on because its holes will soon get clogged up with bits of decomposing nettle!

My picture shows a bunch of fresh nettles on the right and  remains of the last brew on the left, destined for the compost heap.  I use it to feed most of our container shrubs, like Pieris and Camelia which have been doing a lot of work recently; also for the bamboo planted in a trough, which is throwing up new shoots and acts as a useful screen between us and the neighbour's upstairs window.

Viburnum opulus

Another star shrub of this season is Viburnum opulus - the 'snowball tree' - which is covered in perfect white blooms, some the size of tennis balls.  After a recent shower, it was positively swooning with the added weight of rainwater and I had to gently shake some moisture off its spindly arms.  (Many shrubs flower so freely that they end up breaking their own branches!)

But, I have to admit, this primadonna has now been trumped by our friend Ruth's magnificent viburnum 'Wedding Cake' (as we call it) which is one of those tiered confections with long-lasting pure white flowers, a bit like a lacecap hydrangea.  It really is a show-stopper and the canopy is now wide enough to hide her two naughty terriers!

Viburnum plicatum tomentosum

Many French gardens have at least one mauve or purple-flowering lilac, some of them bearing double or treble blooms which look really ebullient, and quite often you glimpse the slightly more vivid colour of a Judas tree, which can flower all the way along its naked branches - a somewhat strange effect, particularly if the tree hasn't been pruned carefully.

Cercis siliquastrum

I wasn't familiar with the Judas tree until we came here, although I think you can grow it in the south of England; it's much more popular in North America where it's known as Redbud.  To me, the colour is more magenta than red and looks good in association with a white flowering tree which helps to tone it down a bit.

All over the country brocantes are in full-swing now.  These are village flea-markets, usually held on Sundays or bank holidays, where you can bargain for interesting bits and pieces to adorn your house or garden.

Whether it's those galvanised watering cans (which weigh a ton even when empty) or an elegant étagère, there's usually some kind of container or artefact which can bring the essence of French 'rustique' to your garden.

Wooden 'brouette' showcasing auricula pots!