Winter Dreams

"A flower blossoms for its own joy"

- Oscar Wilde

Rudbeckia hirta 'Prairie Sun'

Here, in the depths of midwinter, one can be seriously short of sunshine and joy.  Traditionally it's time to reach for the travel brochures or, if you're like us, a gardening catalogue full of old favourites and new introductions. In my case, it doesn't even have to be illustrated - just a comprehensive guide with colourful descriptions will do fine!

Emerging in early July

At the same time, a review of our photo's from last summer serves as a reminder of why we chose certain plants to cultivate from seed.

This particular 'prairie flower', Rudbeckia hirta, was a pleasure to look at in all stages of development: upright and sturdy, it added structure to a vase and lasted for several weeks in the garden.

Apart from having bicoloured petals, its central cone also morphed from pale green to gold as its stamens gradually emerged and spread up from the base.

Maturing in mid-August

This third picture reveals the flowers in their maturity, looking a little more like the familiar 'Black-eyed Susan', but stronger and more defined in shape.

They were easy to grow from seed in early spring and provided us with a host of blooms just a few months later. 

I'm still finding out which perennials are better sown in autumn, and planted out to over-winter in the garden - like wallflowers - rather than being sown in spring for transplanting when the soil warms up.

A simple cold-frame with perspex roofing
provides enough protection in winter

It really depends on how well they can withstand cold, wet weather or attacks by slugs and snails when they are still quite small.

You might think, for instance, that Echinacea would be tough enough to survive winter in the border, yet they have an unnerving habit of disappearing underground and becoming lost.

Now I mark each little plant with a stick so I can keep an eye out for emerging leaves and don't dig up the crown by accident.

Dianthus barbatus 'Homeland'

The type of dianthus here - better known as a Sweet William - was grown from seed last spring and several were then transplanted in summer. 

One plant managed to flower well, whilst the others have yet to perform even though they seemed to establish at the same rate. It's not always certain that perennials will bloom in their first season but I think that just adds to the anticipation of a grand show the following year!

Campanula carpatica

Other seeds from last spring which have yet to produce flowers include Phlomis samia, Penstemon digitalis 'Husker Red' and Dianthus superbus. But they've all clumped-up nicely so should really take off this year.

The little Campanula carpatica was easy to grow, like most of its harebell family, and produced a succession of blooms from early July - a bit later than I'd have expected but no less welcome.

Nicotiana alata 'Lime Green'

This Nicotiana alata was another easy one to sow in spring and its mysterious green flowers seemed to last well in the shady border behind our raspberry canes. Although I grew some in a seed tray, now I know it's not too thuggish I'll probably scatter seeds around in those dark, dry corners where its pale stars will glow with an eerie luminesence.

Orlaya grandiflora

Another plant which I cultivated in a seed tray to begin with was Orlaya (sounds such an Irish name!) seen on the right here underneath a medlar tree where the soil is fairly dry and stony.

But she's a hardy little thing and quite well behaved in the border so we've spread her seeds across a few other areas where she'll weave some lightness into the tapestry of early summer colour.

Amidst all the daisy-like flowers in our garden, it's good to have a few umbellifers such as you'd find in local meadows and vineyards.

Orlaya in all her glory

Agrostemma githago

The humble corncockle, Agrostemma githago, is another meadow annual which has made it into our gardens.

It doesn't self-seed as readily as other native plants so I try and keep a supply of this cultivated strain, 'Milas Purple Queen', as the vibrant colour stands out well and there's very little foliage to get in the way of other plants.

Seeds can be sown directly into the ground.

Scabious atropurpurea

I'm similarly fond of the dark scabious called 'Chat Noir' which doesn't come true from seed - meaning you have to order a fresh supply when the original plants flag after a couple of years.

Scabious grows well in our chalky soil and it's worth having the ones with almost black flowers to provide contrast. I'm tempted to order an even taller variety - at 4' - called 'Black Knight', which has very dark purple blooms and is said to be even more dramatic.

I don't think our garden will ever be without the occasional patch of blue Love-in-a-mist, which I quite enjoy for its feathery foliage. But I'm glad we broke out and planted some different varieties in recent years, particularly the striking Nigella hispanica, which comes in blue with purple stamens, or hispanica 'African Bride' in white and purple. 

Nigella hispanica
- surprisingly elegant architecture!

Although Nigella grows happily from seed spread on the ground in late summer or early spring, I use trays for these particular strains in order to keep them separate from the wild form. 

Learning to differentiate one type of seedling from another is quite an art, made all the more difficult by a vast array of weeds that come up in our soil, so I tend to wait until my cultivated seedlings have reached 'plug plant' size before putting them in the ground - properly labelled, of course :-)

All the above seeds were obtained from Chiltern Seeds who have amassed a wonderful range of flowers, herbs and veg from all over the world.  Their catalogues are both witty and informative - providing the main inspiration for writing this blog in fact!

Starting Afresh

"Winter is a season of recovery and preparation"

- Paul Theroux

New Year's dawn over the marais

As usual, the heaviest frosts waited until after Christmas and the cold air on January 1st will have revived many a late-night reveller!  This was the scene that greeted us when we drew the curtains: there's a patch of marais where the reeds are, behind which our neighbour, Robert, has planted some colourful willows and dogwoods.

Frosted leaves lingering in shade

Looking out of the same window this morning, I saw that Robert has erected another of his stork platforms just behind this little copse.  Great news!

For years now, there have been storks nesting on his other platform further up the valley and we've enjoyed watching the juveniles grow up each spring and summer.

Whereas they used to migrate to warmer climes in autumn, there's now a tendency for some to remain here through the winter - perhaps they want to safeguard their nest sites, which are few and far between?  At any rate, a new platform will definitely be welcomed... by storks, and by certain birdwatchers with cameras!

Scabious caucasica 'Fama Deep Blue'

It's by no means the first time I've posted a picture of this scabious, but I reckon it's earned another place on the blog by producing a couple of gorgeous blooms to adorn our Christmas table.

The cut stems lasted in water for about three weeks, so it's no surprise that florists like them. Each flowering seems to produce a different shade of blue - its winter hue being palest of all.

Dianthus gratianopolitanus 'Sternkissen'

Although our garden is rather short on flowers at present, this is a time to celebrate the shape and structure of certain plants, particularly Alpines like this dianthus 'Sternkissen' which form neat mounds of foliage. Here it has a light dusting of frost and is starting to be encroached upon by cerastium 'Silver Carpet'. 

Together they sit on the edge of our new raised herb border, surrounded by a nice clean mulch of oyster shells.

A few indoor bulbs go a long way to satisfy ones craving for colour and scent, although it's difficult to keep them going in a heated room.  Once these started to droop, Christina cut off the stems and put them in a vase so we could enjoy them for a few more days.  (This wouldn't be such a good idea if you wanted to keep the bulbs for outside planting.)

It's impossible to do any gardening when the ground is frozen, so we took some bracing walks instead, relishing the frosts and fogs which lend atmosphere to photographs and highlight those plants which have survived the chill.

There are a surprising number of roses to be found out and about... this one is sadly in need of a good prune but puts on a brave face none the less.

Rosa no-name

Each winter we walk past a pretty pink rambler which grows in a sheltered garden near our local port.  It seems to produce flowers every month of the year and Christina says there's a name for it, which she's forgotten(!) 

But at least I finally remembered to take a pair of secateurs on our recent walk so that I could brazenly remove a couple of non-flowering stems to make cuttings:-)

From the photographic point of view, I think my favourite of the 'winter collection' is this apricot-coloured rose, still in full bloom at the front of a south-facing cottage.

It just looks 'sunny' next to those traditional lace curtains and the grey-green windows.  Again, I think the shrub could do with some thinning out of its stems, but maybe it's churlish to argue with such floral gaiety in the bleak month of January!

A pear tree resolutely holds its leaves into New Year

Birches and dogwoods are perfect for the winter garden