Warm winds at last



 

A roadside bank of Stipa tenuissima - with poppies!

 Another very difficult month for weather, with more than the average number of cool, wet days.  I'm quite relieved that June is over, despite the huge range of plants which have come into bloom all at once, making it a memorable month for roses in particular - we've never picked so many for the house, trying to save some of the bigger trusses before they were savaged by wind and rain. 

Unlike Christina, who adores roses - especially the old fashioned ones that we obtain via mail order - I have mixed feelings because of the amount of work they entail and the number of times I'm attacked by thorns as I endeavour to keep them under control (yes, I know I'm a spoilsport...) 

Rose training in early Spring

We have a few moss roses with rather untidy habits but in springtime Christina is careful to tie down the stems, making an arch from which will sprout lots of flower-bearing side shoots.  

Moss roses are unusual because of the green or brown "fuzz" which encases the buds, and the flowers themselves are sometimes too heavy for their delicate stems; but they are gloriously scented and have an old-world charm of their own.

"Shailer's White" moss rose

In their favour, I have to say that roses of all types tend to perform a lot better in this climate than back in England.  They're definitely sun-worshippers and although the blooms may not last as long, there are twice or three times as many. 

We occasionally get aphids but the birds make short work of them and our roses are otherwise pretty pest-free.  As long as they are well-planted, with the addition of some blood, fish & bone (or hoof & horn in France) and kept reasonably moist for the first season, they will reward you with loads of flowers.  Bucket-loads, in some cases!

Whilst the strong sunlight of midsummer causes some flowers to fade quickly, it definitely adds burnish to the ornamental grasses and we've grown about four different types, all of which bring a golden hue to the gardens. 

Stipa gigantea or 'oat grass'

Most members of the Stipa family come easily from seed and can totally transform a mixed border, adding movement and a subtle veil through which other plants can be glimpsed.  This is especially true of Stipa tenuissima, an effective foil for Verbena bonariensis, larkspur and long-stemmed prairie plants. 

 

Stipa tenuissima and blue cranesbills

Here the grass has become intermingled with a clump of blue geraniums planted under a shady tree; as the grasses reach out for light, they create a sort of cascade effect over the edge of the terrace.

Stipa tenuissima is a prolific self-seeder, particularly in our gravel driveway, and has produced wonderful waving vistas quite by accident!

Grasses are also invaluable when you have to cope with dry conditions and for this reason we've used them for under-planting a number of trees, in combination with crocus and other spring bulbs. 

Briza maxima

Here we've planted Briza maxima, or quaking grass, all around the base of an olive tree to try and simulate a Greek meadow.  This only grows to about 45cm and, looking at the picture, I can't help thinking it would be fun to intersperse some field poppies - Papaver rhoeas - which are available in subtle shades of pink, white and apricot as well as the more common crimson.

Finding plants which tolerate arid conditions and unrelenting sun is even more of a challenge.  Friends nearby are planning to retile the area around their swimming pool; at present there are two date palms growing out of dry, thin soil which is surrounded by concrete.  Not a good look...

Base of palm tree in spring

For ages we kept weeding around the base of these poor palms, trying to decide what would tolerate such difficult terrain.  At the end of winter, when it was still relatively cool and damp, we planted some small lavender cuttings together with some equally minute evening primrose seedlings.  (Babies with strong roots are easier to transplant than mature plants which need more moisture.)

As the garden and pool are basically dug out of a chalky cliffside, we had no difficulty finding lumps of chalk chippings to use as a mulch, holding in what little moisture there was and refracting sunlight.

Oenothera 'Apricot Delight'

The result has been quite dramatic, even though the lavender flowers have flattened themselves against the concrete rather than standing upright like the evening primroses.  (This could well be due to some of the heavy showers we've had recently!)

At any rate, it's a low-maintenance option for breaking up this expanse of concrete and won't result in leaves or petals falling into the water.  Many types of herbs are suitable for landscaping around swimming pools.

A plant which is particularly statuesque at this time of year is Acanthus mollis, or "bear's breeches", which has proved to be a real thug in our garden.  I love its sharp-cut, papery flowers, but if you grow it alongside other plants in a border with fairly rich soil, you run the risk that it will take over and you'll never be rid of its fleshy, underground shoots.  Be warned!

However, grown by itself in full sun, it makes a very pretty picture...

Acanthus mollis in exactly the right place