"Gardens are a form of autobiography"
- Sydney Eddison
So, I wonder what the above picture tells you about the gardeners who live here...? At least one of them is a sun-worshipper with some flair for design... Christina, on both counts! You might also deduce that there's a desire for conservation and a love of antiquity in the way those stones are preserved alongside the terracotta pots.
Beyond that you could even hazard a guess that the people in question are drawn to a Mediterranean ambience, but no longer enjoy the fierce heat generated around its shores...
Yes, from our point of view, the weather here is a near-perfect mix of British seasonality, with its winter frosts and occasional snowfall, and sunny southerly optimism which means you can risk growing a few unusual things from the tender side of the spectrum. In short, we relish the sun but not the sweat, which is mainly kept at bay by strong Atlantic breezes!
A couple of kind friends recently gave us a young aloe vera plant which we hope to keep in a smallish pot so that we can easily move it indoors during the coldest months of January and February. I would hate to see its succulent leaves browned or scarred by frost damage.
For the moment it looks great against our dark terracotta wall, bringing back happy memories of a trip to Arizona when we fell in love with spiky desert plants and got used to seeing them dramatically displayed against sun-baked adobe.
If we ever end up with a sheltered courtyard in town, it would be tempting to recreate something as theatrical and exotic as Frida Kahlo's garden at her home in Mexico!
At this time of year, we even have several 'hummingbirds' regularly darting around the heads of Verbena bonariensis, catching the sun on their beating wings and angled proboscis - an irresistible photo challenge.
If you're not used to them, it can be quite startling to hear a loud 'thrum' and feel the movement of air as they whizz past your ear.
A couple of kind friends recently gave us a young aloe vera plant which we hope to keep in a smallish pot so that we can easily move it indoors during the coldest months of January and February. I would hate to see its succulent leaves browned or scarred by frost damage.
For the moment it looks great against our dark terracotta wall, bringing back happy memories of a trip to Arizona when we fell in love with spiky desert plants and got used to seeing them dramatically displayed against sun-baked adobe.
If we ever end up with a sheltered courtyard in town, it would be tempting to recreate something as theatrical and exotic as Frida Kahlo's garden at her home in Mexico!
Hummingbird Hawk Moth feeding in late afternoon |
At this time of year, we even have several 'hummingbirds' regularly darting around the heads of Verbena bonariensis, catching the sun on their beating wings and angled proboscis - an irresistible photo challenge.
If you're not used to them, it can be quite startling to hear a loud 'thrum' and feel the movement of air as they whizz past your ear.
A Japanese secret weapon - and one of the best tools to have in your gardening armory |
You need to wait until the seed capsule is dry and brown before shaking its contents into a paper bag, or in the case of smaller seeds depositing them on a sheet of white paper with a crease down the middle. This makes it easier to feed them into an envelope; but don't try it outdoors on a windy day - that way madness lies!
This photo also illustrates one of our most favourite tools, given to us by a dear friend who appreciated the fact that we did so much chopping down in her garden and thus were in danger of getting repetitive strain injuries. In fact, she gave us each a pair of these Okatsune pruning scissors which are scalpel sharp and slice through all kinds of tough stems with a crisp action requiring very little pressure.
The fine blade is also suitable for taking softwood cuttings and I even employ these 'scissors' for occasional edge-trimming where damp grass can be difficult to cut with other tools. It seems logical (if scary) that a nation which invented harakiri should make the sharpest blades ever...
Echinacea purpurea and Cosmos sulphureus |
Whilst echinacea is generally hardy in this climate, it tends to disappear below ground in winter and then get eaten by slugs or snails before you have a chance to protect the emerging leaves.
Hyssop, salvia and pennisetum |
We're also taking cuttings from them now which can root quickly in the warm soil, providing new plants which may even come to flower in just over a month - perfect for the impatient gardener!
Some seeds, like wallflowers, have to be sown around this time so their seedlings will be bushy enough to plant out in autumn, bulking up further by early spring to ensure a good flowering in April.
Pennisetum alopecuriodes 'National Arboretum' |
But the amazing light-catching quality of grasses is to be admired and, as they seem to enhance whatever plant is grown alongsidethem, I'll be happy to pot-up a few babies as gifts.
Hydrangea paniculata 'Grandiflora' (with salvia cutting) |
She describes exactly how it starts by flowering white, then pink and "then it turns greenish, a sort of sea-green, so you never know where you are with it, as you never know where you are with some human personalities, but that makes them all the more interesting. Candidly white one moment; prettily pink the next; and virulently green in the last resort."
(Vita had colourful friends, for sure ...!)
Galega officinalis var. alba (Goat's-rue) |
Recently the north wind has returned and temperatures have dipped at night making one reach for a blanket. It seems early for autumn's footsteps to be approaching but our potted acer has responded by suddenly putting on a show of red and gold leaves, making me wonder if they'll soon be ready to flutter off.
Acer palmatum - another ostentatious show-stopper |