"... and soon they reached the fields of asphodel where
the dead, the burnt-out wraiths of mortals make their home."
- Homer
It's odd that I couldn't find a more up-to-date quote about asphodels, considering they present such an amazing sight! Woods of sweet chestnut are not exactly the Elysian Fields of ancient Greece, but it only takes a bit of poetic licence to imagine these ghostly lilies as an army of spirits guarding the underworld...
Again, the wet spring seems to have favoured these flowers which have proliferated in the humus-rich, sandy soil. Glimpsed from a distance, at dusk between the trees, they look very mysterious indeed.
Although not scented like bluebells, for me they evoke the same atmosphere of serenity and contemplation, a perfect backdrop to the song of the nightingale or call of a cuckoo.
Luckily I took these pictures last week before the onset of more heavy rain which might have spoiled their pristine appearance. Funny how bad weather seems to strike just when plants are looking their best...
Fallen Arches
Asphodelus albus |
Again, the wet spring seems to have favoured these flowers which have proliferated in the humus-rich, sandy soil. Glimpsed from a distance, at dusk between the trees, they look very mysterious indeed.
Although not scented like bluebells, for me they evoke the same atmosphere of serenity and contemplation, a perfect backdrop to the song of the nightingale or call of a cuckoo.
Luckily I took these pictures last week before the onset of more heavy rain which might have spoiled their pristine appearance. Funny how bad weather seems to strike just when plants are looking their best...
Fallen Arches
Clematis montana 'Marjorie' |
I'd also just photographed our Clematis montana which was looking spectacular this year, draped over an archway and twice as floriferous as usual, when a sudden thunderstorm hit us overnight along with gale-force winds.
Yes, we had noticed the arch was getting a bit rickety and, no, we hadn't done anything about it because the plant was fast coming into flower and those brittle stems of clematis can easily break when disturbed. (This is a plant which was quite unremarkable for the first few years but has now turned into a real beauty.)
Checking garden supports like this should be a job for winter, while plants are fairly dormant and less likely to be damaged when you endeavour to rearrange them!
Luckily for us, poor old 'Marjorie' was reasonably unscathed after her fall from grace and we managed to resurrect the arch supports while keeping most of her crowning glory attached, only breaking one main stem in the process.
After she's finished flowering, we'll look at improving the supports and maybe change their position so she's not at such risk from prevailing winds. The way she's fallen in this picture makes it easier to appreciate all those flowers, leading one to think that perhaps she'd be even better draped as a hedge...
Accent the Positive
Gardeners have to be philosophical about the vagaries of nature and turn what could be a disaster into an opportunity. After all, a good soaking does mean that weeds come out more easily - yay! - and that small plants which now seem to be in the wrong place can be moved to another site.
I used to be very hesitant about doing this in the growing season as it can sometimes delay flowering, but over here it doesn't seem to be much of a problem - especially with herbs and young perennials - as long as you keep them moist and lift all the roots carefully in a nice ball of soil.
As you can see from this picture, our main borders have exploded into growth over the last month and it's easy for smaller plants to disappear under spreading leaves of foxglove or verbascum. (We keep removing the lower ones to discourage snails.)
It's now reached a point where we'll start pulling up forget-me-nots even though they are still flowering away, knitting together several islands of green. Once you have these in your garden, it's unlikely that you'll ever be without them as they seed freely and provide rapid and bushy spring colour.
Another attractive little flower which has become established in shadier areas is the unfortunately-named Blue Gromwell (lithospermum), which is something we introduced from the wild but has taken a few years to spread out and really make an impact.
Lithospermum is a member of the borage family and does well on chalky soil and in woodland margins, which is where we first came across it.
With its woody, creeping stems and narrow lance-shaped leaves, this drought-tolerant plant brightens up the spaces between hellbores and dead-nettles in shady areas beneath trees. Sometimes you need to wait a while for newcomers to establish themselves and earn their keep!
Bupleurum is another one you tend not to find down the garden centre - and I can't say it's ever grabbed me in photographs either. But, as an avid follower of Beth Chatto, I've come across many references to it in her books, so I thought I'd try one of the strains listed in my trusty Chiltern Seeds catalogue.
I sowed seeds in a tray last autumn and planted up half a dozen in pots, to overwinter in the cold frame. These were put into position a few weeks ago when the soil warmed up and have now grown to almost a meter in height.
They're really quite architectural, particularly with strong light shining through their rounded leaves, and the catalogue tells me that this variety has been selected for extra-long stems, "making it even better for flower arranging".
Now we've dispensed with our euphorbias (just too big for a small garden) it's nice to have a striking yellow-green foliage plant in its place - and this one looks good come rain or shine!
Last year I wrote about the perils of growing wisteria without it being carefully trained and supported. Here, though, are two examples of well-tended varieties used to adorn the front of traditional cottages.
Accent the Positive
Gardeners have to be philosophical about the vagaries of nature and turn what could be a disaster into an opportunity. After all, a good soaking does mean that weeds come out more easily - yay! - and that small plants which now seem to be in the wrong place can be moved to another site.
Back garden in early May - compare with the picture taken in March! |
As you can see from this picture, our main borders have exploded into growth over the last month and it's easy for smaller plants to disappear under spreading leaves of foxglove or verbascum. (We keep removing the lower ones to discourage snails.)
Myosotis alpestris |
Another attractive little flower which has become established in shadier areas is the unfortunately-named Blue Gromwell (lithospermum), which is something we introduced from the wild but has taken a few years to spread out and really make an impact.
Lithospermum purpureocaeruleum |
With its woody, creeping stems and narrow lance-shaped leaves, this drought-tolerant plant brightens up the spaces between hellbores and dead-nettles in shady areas beneath trees. Sometimes you need to wait a while for newcomers to establish themselves and earn their keep!
Bupleurum rotundifolium 'Garibaldi' - rears up almost cobra-like from the ground |
I sowed seeds in a tray last autumn and planted up half a dozen in pots, to overwinter in the cold frame. These were put into position a few weeks ago when the soil warmed up and have now grown to almost a meter in height.
They're really quite architectural, particularly with strong light shining through their rounded leaves, and the catalogue tells me that this variety has been selected for extra-long stems, "making it even better for flower arranging".
Now we've dispensed with our euphorbias (just too big for a small garden) it's nice to have a striking yellow-green foliage plant in its place - and this one looks good come rain or shine!
May is the month for wisteria |
Finally, a picture that made me smile the other evening... A tranquil country scene disrupted by the sound of loud squawking from above!
Unruly herons high in a tree |
I love wisteria. ..it has such a beautiful scent too. ..gorgeous
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