Getting Greener

"A flowerless room is a souless room, to my way of thinking;

but even a solitary little vase of a living flower may redeem it."

- Vita Sackville-West

April is the month when we can finally begin flower-picking in earnest and this year the lilacs have really outdone themselves for scent and sheer ebullience.

Double white lilac outside the cottage

We have two of the deep purple variety in the back garden and one white flowering tree in the front. Until recently this was overshadowed by a rather ancient elder which we've now removed to let in more light.

As a reward, the tree has provided us with heavy swags of bloom, just crying out to be picked and displayed in a room where they can scent the air with the fragrance of early spring.

Some people believe that bringing lilac indoors encourages bad luck, but the only thing I'd worry about is whether there are bugs hiding inside the blossom. (Maybe one should leave it outdoors for a couple of hours first, to let any little critters escape..?)

Cercis siliquastrum

Another colourful favourite in gardens  is the Judas tree - a strange beast in that it can apparently produce flowers right out of the bark. (Christina tells me that this tends to happen when it hasn't been properly pruned!)

In any event, it's certainly eye-popping and I was drawn to photograph this specimen because of the peculiar combination of golden lichen, grey bark and magenta petals, reminiscent of the pattern on a Japanese kimono. 

My book tells me that Judas trees tolerate most soils, but prefer it to be deep and well-drained, in full sun or part-shade. Unless regularly pruned, they can reach a height of 8-12m, spreading out more than 8 meters... too big for our garden, alas, but nice to admire elsewhere.

Gladioli byzantinus

Talking of things exotic, we recently decided we should replace our rather ineffective wild gladioli with some new robust corms which have just come into flower. 

It's intriguing the way their heads reach forward as if practising an Egyptian sand-dance... (does anyone know what I'm talking about??)

I'm pleased to say the blooms are stronger in colour and form than the wild version, so it just remains to pull out all the old ones which have scattered themselves everywhere.

The Honesty hedge!

In this climate, it's nearly always wiser to choose a cultivar rather than rely on a native plant which may take more easily but then outgrows its welcome, leaving lots of offspring to remind you of your mistake.

However, we do make an exception for Honesty because it can be spectacular under a hedge where little else is prepared to grow. I enjoy its flowers - like the butterflies - but then I usually rip out the plant before its root becomes too large and intractable.

Aside from those bold, brash purples and magentas, there are smaller ground-cover plants also in bloom and attracting the insects.

This creeping thyme always makes a delightful cushion and will easily thread itself between rocks and over dry-stone paths.  

I'm particularly fond of carpeters because they're so useful at knitting together awkward or unsightly areas of the garden and quickly lending a naturalistic flourish to a newly planted bed.

Iberis sempervirens
'Snowflake'

The same may be said of certain edging plants like this Iberis or Candytuft, much beloved of suburban front gardens.  

Again, it's worth growing something which is a bit nicer than the stuff you find en masse in plastic trays. I found this variety in Chiltern Seeds catalogue and it's been flowering for well over a month now, starting from when there was little else in bloom.

I've planted it in different areas and it seems to perform best in part-shade where the soil is more moisture retentive. The flowers on this particular plant just keep getting bigger and brighter - a contrast to all the greenery!

Dicentra spectabilis alba

Similarly pure white, the heart-shaped baubles of Dicentra spectabilis gleam within the shadowy depths of emergent foliage.

We both have a weakness for white or cream flowers tinged with green; out in the countryside, patches of Solomon's Seal and Lily of the Valley are starting to appear on waysides, echoing this cool combination. The verges, too, are full of waving Cow Parsley and burgeoning stems of Hogweed, not to mention the puffy blooms of Bladder Campion.

Dicentra spectabilis
The original 'Bleeding Heart'

That's not to say, of course, that the traditional pink and white version of Dicentra isn't equally welcome - in fact it's a quintessential plant of the English spring garden, along with Foxgloves and Sweet Williams.

Chiltern's catalogue tells me that Dicentra spectabilis also bears the name of 'Lyre Flower', which is apt considering its unusual shape.

Anything which hangs, drapes or shoots out in an elegant fashion is worth growing because it draws the eye and stimulates your imagination in ways that other, more ordinary plants, never will.

View towards the herb bed

The weather has been mixed throughout April, with plenty of sun along with cold winds which have kept the temperatures down. It hasn't been great for my seedlings, which have to survive without a greenhouse, but it's enabled the bulbs and the blossom to continue for longer than usual.

Here you can see our remaining tulips: 'Ballerina' - feisty in orange - and 'Merlot' in a sort of wine colour. Once they've finished, we'll take them out of the containers and keep them safe in the shed until it's time to replant in September.

The low box hedge on the right has just been trimmed and is already starting to put on fresh growth, whilst the honeysuckle hedge behind is in need of yet another hard prune. 

Sunbathing in a sheltered spot

On the far right of the picture, you can see that our Viburnum opulus is in full bloom. The French call this 'Boule de neige' (snowball tree) or Viorne obier, and it's another popular shrub.

I'm not sure if ours was the compact version or not; but, in any event, Christina keeps it well-pruned so it doesn't exceed its allotted space. If you cut back hard after flowering, you maintain the shape of the shrub and it will still bloom its socks off the following year. 

The only downside to this viburnum is its fatal attraction to blackfly. We usually resort to snipping off the worst affected shoots - mainly those which have soft growth and no flowers.

Exciting discoveries in the early morning light!

Tulip Fever

"I decided that if I could paint that flower in a huge

scale, you could not ignore its beauty."  - Georgia O'Keeffe

It seems as though all the subtlety of Spring, with its soft pastels and misty greens, is suddenly blown asunder by the arrival of these brash tulips!  

Easy to understand how artists have been inspired - and 17th century collectors driven mad - by the vivid combinations of shape and saturated colour.

This is a flower that can appear so delicate and subdued on a dull morning, petals closed and elegantly streamlined, only to throw open her skirts in the heat of a sunny afternoon, revealing hidden depths of a completely different hue!

Tulip "Apricot Emperor"

These three photographs reflect the changing moods of one tulip, "Apricot Emperor", which we used in planting up a copper container last autumn.

There are two more containers of bulbs yet to flower and I guess we're probably about halfway through the tulip season. We've had a few surprises pop up in the border too... bulbs which probably came from the 'Tulips Against Cancer' charity, where you buy a flowering bunch with bulbs still attached. This might account for the occasional pinks and yellows!

Tulips with cerinthe

We rather enjoy these odd splashes of colour as they light up beds which are mostly full of greenery at this stage, and they have the gaiety of poppies when their petals are fully open and flamboyant.

Tulips form clumps quite quickly in our garden and need dividing every three years or so. The larger ones produce a lot of leaf which is why we prefer to put them in containers, even though it means the bulbs will have to be lifted and stored later on.

But it also means you have plenty of flowers for cutting and giving away, which is a good thing!

Just a single specimen can make an effective table arrangement when teamed with other early bloomers such as primula, narcissi, cerinthe and muscari.

I really prefer smaller botanical tulips for naturalising in the garden. We started with Tulipa turkestanica, which featured in last month's post and has now gone over, to be followed by Tulipa clusiana "Peppermint Stick", a taller, single-flowered variety.

Also known as "The Lady Tulip", clusiana is very slender and stylish when her petals are still tightly wrapped in the early morning.

Gradually she unfolds herself, revealing that her petals are pure white inside with just a hint of the exterior pink showing through.

Tulipa clusiana "Peppermint Stick"

Finally, these petals open right up like a magnolia flower and you see that the centre is a shade of deep plum - almost black - with contrasting yellow stigma (that eggy bit in the middle).  Small but spectacular!

As long as your bed is in a sunny position with free-draining soil, these tulips can be left in the ground to spread - either by seed or by producing offsets.

Although this spring has been particularly wet and windy, I have to say that even the taller varieties of tulip have stood up well to bad weather.

Their sensible strategy is to remain shut when it pours with rain and, if anything, the colours seem to intensify on dull days - a good time to photograph them in fact.

In his bulb book, Dr Hessayon recommends that both flowers and foliage can be removed from garden tulips once they fade... thus depriving snails of a good meal but avoiding lots of mess in your border!

Anenome nemorosa

A Walk on the Wild Side

As an antidote to tulipomania, we've been exploring local woodland to find early wild flowers like pulmonaria and wood anenome, which have also done well in this damp spring.

We came across some lovely drifts of Anenome nemorosa which bloom on the sunlit forest floor whilst waiting for the trees above to come into leaf.

My wild flower book tells me that its spreading habit means that a group of 100 flowering stems can actually belong to a single plant! 

Vinca minor alba or Periwinkle

Our garden is too dry for such a delicacy but - from a distance - we've created something similar by planting Vinca minor as a ground-cover under shrubs, hoping it will keep the dreaded ivy at bay.

At this time of year it produces a host of starry white flowers that stand out nicely against its evergreen leaves.

Whilst walking through woodland, we came across several butterflies taking advantage of sunlit glades and spring flowers.

Here a brimstone has attached itself to some Lungwort (Pulmonaria officinalis), a plant that nearly always has blue flowers in the wild, although we did come across a white version similar to the cultivar called "Sissinghurst".

Populus tremula

If our little garden in the valley were a huge estate, with an awkward area of waterlogged land, then I'd be sorely tempted to establish a plantation of aspens.

I adore these trees and I guess they've been emblematic of the French countryside ever since Impressionist painters set up their easels beside rivers and lakes.

In winter and early spring their silver-white trunks and delicate branches have a magical ability to reflect light and transmit the rushing of wind.

Catkins on an aspen

Aside from being able to thrive in boggy places, aspen wood is said to be resistant to boring insects so it's often used in construction of roofs, providing local farmers with a relatively fast-growing crop of timber.

This is another tree decorated with masses of catkins, though they're often hard to see at 15 meters high!

It might be stunning to grow in a big garden but unfortunately the roots produce extensive suckers which can be particularly annoying if they come up in your lawn.


As you can deduce from its Latin name, the aspen is a type of poplar which, in turn, is part of the willow family - hence their affinity with water and those catkin-like flowers. In our area there are two or three other types of poplar - all very beautiful trees - which I'll endeavour to write about later this year.

Narcissus actaea (or Pheasant's Eye)
with Narcissus albus plenus odoratus

Damp Days

"None can have a healthy love for flowers

unless he loves the wild ones" - Forbes Watson

A garden opening onto the marais

All this wet weather is certainly good for one thing: blossom! Blackthorn in particular seems to have outdone itself this year and the salt marshes are bounded by many hedgerows such as this one. (It makes up for the sad fact that other field hedges have been ripped out by local farmers seeking to maximise their yields.)

Pussy willow or Salix

Willows have also provided a host of catkins this spring and out on the marais we passed this beautiful "sallow" tree which, unusually, was not part of a hedgerow.

Sallows have fluffy catkins, or flowers, that are held almost erect rather than drooping down; these are the pussy willows which are often used to decorate churches on Palm Sunday.

Spring arrivals

Birdwatching along the estuary

At this time of year, the Gironde Estuary is a good source of birdlife as there's a mixture of habitats along its banks and no shortage of water!

In the past ten days, we've seen both hoopoes and swallows arrive on our shores whilst we were busy chasing elusive penduline tits (see my last post).

A well-earned rest!

We usually record the first swallow in mid- March but this one was photographed on the 21st, which might indicate they were a bit late arriving. On the other hand, we might simply have missed the early birds... Christina acts as chief 'spotter' striding out in front, whilst I bring up the rear with my camera, often trying to focus on a moving target. 

Celastrina argiolus

On a brighter morning, we spied another harbinger of spring - a blue butterfly which I think is the Holly Blue, even though it was soaking up sun on a bay leaf. 

Whilst holly is quite a rarity down here, bay trees are ubiquitous: very tough and fast growing, they are best avoided in the garden. (Their small, culinary cousin is absolutely fine however.)

This butterfly was spotted on the edge of some woodland which borders a vineyard and provides another fertile habitat for birds and insects.

Sloes (blackthorn) blossoming at the woodland edge

Meanwhile, back in our garden we've enjoyed watching the first blossoms on our small peach tree unfurl their petals.

Prunus persica

We grew this from a stone a couple of years ago and, much as I love most types of Prunus, I wasn't particularly keen to plant this one in our garden. This is mainly due to the fact that it needs spraying now in order to prevent unsightly leaf-curl later on.

Christina, however, is not so squeamish when it comes to wielding the Bordeaux mix (copper sulphate) which is what our neighbours seem to use, and she gave the tree a couple of preventative sprays on those rare days when the wind wasn't blowing. 

Colour after the crocuses have gone...

Chionodoxa forbesii "Pink Giant"

This pretty little bulb produces starry pink-to-lavender flowers which are reminiscent of a hyacinth, with similar fleshy leaves.

It originally came from the mountains of western Turkey and there are varieties from other areas with bright blue flowers which would also be worth having. They bloom early in the year and soon get covered by plants such as forget-me-not, so foliage die-down is not a problem.

Tulipa turkestanica

Another exquisite early bulb is this tiny tulip with multiple heads and arched stems which gives it the appearance of a lily. 

Once those petals open, however, it turns into an attention-grabbing star with a distinctly sunny disposition! Planted last autumn, these clumps already seem well-established.

T. turkestanica opening to sun

These species tulips come from Central Asia and I love the fact that they look wild  and combine happily with other delicate plants, perhaps grown around the base of a fruit tree or in a rock garden.

Like most bulbs, they need good drainage and plenty of sun, so avoid putting them in areas which will require heavy watering in summer. 

Other species worth having are Tulipa praestans (scarlet, flowering April) and Tulipa clusiana with grassy foliage (pink, streaked white, also flowering in April).

Although primroses are traditionally pale yellow when found in the wild, and we have several clumps planted under hedges, I deliberately grew some blue primulas from seed just to introduce another colour into the spring border.

These have been flowering for at least a couple of weeks now (in places where the birds haven't nibbled their buds!) and their petals seem to change from blue to violet depending on the light.

Before and After

 

Back garden in 2003 

Delving into the archive once more, this is a view looking towards our neighbour's driveway and fields beyond.  At the time of moving here we inherited a couple of buddleias and some mop-head hydrangeas which have long since gone, replaced by viburnum, daphne, deutzia - and some rather more subtle forms of hydrangea.

Bigger borders and less lawn in March 2015

Yes, a lot has changed in twelve years and - being so English - we've certainly packed in a multitude of herbaceous plants!

Chalk cliffs surrounded by reed beds on the estuary

  

Small is Beautiful

"Nobody sees a flower really, it is so small.  We haven't time, and to see takes time - like to have a friend takes time." - Georgia O'Keeffe

Salt marsh on the Gironde Estuary

Some things, like the estuary with its tidal streams and brackish lakes, are simply too big at this time of year, and prone to overflowing.  Later this March we face the prospect of an unusually high spring tide which might even reach into our garden... un vrai catastrophe for the plants, few of which would be salt-tolerant.

Penduline Tit

That said, the reed beds of the marais do a good job of soaking up excess water and are beautiful to admire on a sunny day when you can look down on them from one of the nearby chalk cliffs.

Amazingly, in all the time we've been watching shore birds, we've never managed to glimpse a marsh tit; but this week we did come across a lively family of penduline tits (Remiz pendulinus) darting around an area of scrub bordering the reedbeds. Tiny and beautifully marked, they're fairly rare visitors who over-winter in certain parts of southern Europe.

Slender Speedwell (Veronica filiformis)
with a Rough Hawk's Beard 

Meanwhile, on the ground, wild flowers are starting to emerge from dormancy and this fetching combination of sky-blue speedwell and sunny yellow hawk's beard (Crepis biennis) is a common theme in the vineyards.

After so much rain, we've finally had ten days of dry, windy weather which has shaken some of the mud off the hedgerows.

When it comes to our own hedges, Christina is very particular about tidying up the space beneath them, taking out weeds and leaving space for a few early flowers such as primroses. To give them a bit more light, she snips off any messy lower branches of hedging - in this case Viburnum tinus, which is also underplanted with miniature daffs and edged with the ever-reliable Campanula poscharskyana.

You can also see evidence of our watering system running at the back of these plants - it certainly aids the establishment of new hedges as they get their roots down.

Mimosa (Acacia dealbata)
- an ephemeral beauty!

During those cold wet days of early spring it's uplifting to have some indoor bulbs, in order to savour the very moment when their tight buds unfurl into waxy colour, unsullied by any mud-spatter or animal munchings!

And it's great when a friend turns up for lunch bearing a fresh swag of mimosa which releases its haunting almondy fragrance as soon as you remove the cellophane from its blossoms. 

We adored it for two whole days before our central heating started to wizen its tiny puffballs and its perfume gradually faded into nostalgia.

Shrub of the Month

Loved for its foliage as much as its blooms

Mahonia aquifolium

This is the low-growing spreading form of 'Oregan Grape' which is worth having for its leaves alone. It provides contrast to other evergreens by putting on a show of glossy foliage in late February to March, followed by clusters of yellow flowers which attract bees and other insects.

Fresh leaves on Mahonia aquifolium

I really enjoy watching new leaves emerge on this shrub and the range of hues is more akin to autumn than spring, useful for adding to cut flowers in a vase.

We also have the taller Mahonia japonica, with less impressive foliage but giving us beautiful sprays of scented flowers in the middle of winter. Both versions need careful clipping and pruning to keep them looking their best but otherwise are easy to maintain.

Wicked Weeds and other Pests

Shepherd's Purse
(Capsella bursa-pastoris)

Regular readers will know I'm paranoid where weeds are concerned. Let's face it, their main aim in life is to take over your garden, by various means of stealth and deceit, and we have to get them before they get us!

No one is more cunning than this delicate plant that insinuates itself wherever there is enough nitrogen in the soil... pretty much everywhere in our garden. It then abuses your hospitality by firing out seeds in spring-loaded capsules, trying to catch you in the eye just as you're leaning over to yank it out.

My advice is: Grab it now - before its innocent little flowers have a chance to to form!

Caterpillars of the
Pine Processionary Moth

Although weeds might drive you nuts, they tend not to affect your health in other ways; whereas the caterpillars on the left, having emerged from their web-like nest on a warm day, pose a very real threat to pets who could ingest and choke on their irritating hairs. Humans, too, can suffer allergic reactions to touching them.

Many of our neighbours have these moth nests clearly visible in their pine trees yet seem to do nothing about them. Luckily, there's plenty of information on the internet about how to get rid of this pest.

On a happier note, Christina had a moment of real triumph yesterday whilst engaged in the rather unenviable - but necessary - task of turning the compost heap.

Halfway down she unearthed her favourite weeding fork which had probably lain there for the past six months, feared lost forever, with its nice wooden handle now showing signs of having been nibbled by a rodent.

The day before she found a 'diamond' ring in the road whilst sweeping up some rubbish... who says the righteous don't get their just reward in this world?? 

Crocus amongst Cerinthe leaves

Amongst the small gems of our springtime garden, we have to celebrate the clusters of crocus which have multiplied in sunny spots where the originals were planted years ago.

They look delicious on a damp day, when speckled with rain or dew, petals folded protectively over their downy stamens. Their leaves are discreet but clearly striped to mark them out from other bulbs.

Then, when the sun finally deigns to shine again, whoosh... up they come to savour the light, greedy with desire, their translucent stems transmitting energy like filaments.

It's a flower that punches above its weight in the garden and seems to encapuslate our own deep-seated longing for sunshine and heat.

Last year we planted several of the Dutch 'striped' hybrids at the front of our new raised bed and they look particularly effective against a carpet of oyster shells.

'Pickwick' crocus flowering in the herb bed