Ness and Eucryphia

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The weekend before last I visited Ness Botanic Gardens, on the first dull and cool day in a very long time. Though the grass was brown here and there, the lawns were in better condition than in most places, so they must have had more rain than many other parts of the country. Some of the plants were suffering as a result of the drought – quite a few heathers had died for instance – but the gardens were looking surprisingly good. In the herbaceous borders there was a nice mix of grasses and perennials.
One of the highlights, for me, was a plant you don’t see much. I remember seeing a specimen of Eucryphia on previous visits, and I was glad to round a corner and see it still there, still flourishing, and in full flower. The first time I saw this tree I was amazed. Imagine a rose bush smothered in flowers. Now imagine it grown to the size of a small tree. Eucryphia flowers give roses a good run for their money (although they don’t have much scent, and unlike some roses, they have a limited flowering period). It makes a good, upright tree, so it can be used in a limited space; in a small garden it won’t outgrow its welcome. Many species are evergreen too, so you still have the leaves over the winter.
Mary Agnes Eames – isn’t she a beauty?!

How many trees can you think of that give such a wonderful show of flowers?

One problem is that most Eucryphias prefer an acidic soil, but there is one variety – Eucryphia nymansensis, which will grow in neutral soil. My faulty memory had me thinking this was the specimen Ness have, but in fact it’s Eucryphia glutinosa ‘Mary Agnes Evans’. My RHS book tells me that unlike most Eucryphias, glutinosas are deciduous, but on the plus side, they do have good autumn colour.
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Strange Fruit…

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They look a little like runner beans, but you’d be best advised not to eat these, as they’re the seed pods of wisteria, and reputedly very poisonous.
Wisteria seed pods

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When ripe, the seeds can be sown and will produce new plants but, unlike the grafted plants sold in garden centres, it may be a number of years before they produce flowers. And, the RHS warns, the flowers they produce may not be up to much.
Wisteria seed pod

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Still, the seed pods have a soft, downy coating and feel lovely to the touch. And they look good too, staying on the plants right through until late winter…

Wisteria seed pods02

Words and images © Graham Wright 2018

 

Hydrangea Roulette, anyone..?

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One day last week I was asked to remove last year’s flowers from a mop-head hydrangea. It’s normal to leave the flowers on over the winter, as they look quite decorative, and then snip them off in the spring (not too early, as they provide some protection from the frost for the new growth). Normally, this particular customer would do this kind of thing herself, but she had been so busy that she hadn’t got around to it. So she asked me to do it.
Spot the problem!
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Bodnant in the rain…

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Bodnant is a National Trust garden in the foothills of Snowdonia, just a few miles south of Llandudno, on the North Wales coast. Its location lends it a very special character, with the heavily contoured landscape making for a very dynamic garden, with plenty of spectacular views both within the gardens, and beyond. Being in Snowdonia, it gets plenty of rainfall, which keeps it lush and verdant. And the soil is acidic, which means the gardens can support a range of plants that would struggle elsewhere – particularly Rhododendrons, Azaleas and Camellias.
It had been some years since I last saw Bodnant – far too long – so it was a particular pleasure to visit the gardens again, with family, over the bank holiday weekend. Continue reading →

Evergreen?

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After the winter we’ve had here, the term ‘evergreen’ may have to be reviewed. Sadly, I’ve come across a lot of evergreens that will now be forever brown. The following two sad specimens illustrate the point rather well.

The first, a low growing Ceanothus, went into the winter thriving; full and with lush, dark green foliage. Ceanothus usually sail through our winters, but this year many have been badly damaged and may not survive (this one included). At home, we’ve got a Ceanothus growing against a north-facing wall (I know; it isn’t recommended, but I saw one flourishing in the same position on a house down the road and decided to ‘borrow’ the idea). It was hit by the cold weather, and suffered quite a bit of browning, but it pulled through, is greening up nicely, and is about to burst into flower. Despite the north-facing aspect, I suspect the wall helped to protect it.

The next is a Mahonia. I have a difficult relationship with these spiky characters. The flowers are impressive (if a bit on the yellow side) and come at a time when there isn’t much else in flower. But they can be very uncomfortable to work with. And the fallen leaves don’t break down, and even through gloves will prick your hands when you pick them up. And the plants have an unfortunate habit of going very leggy. You can do what’s known as ‘crown lifting’, which is where you cut away the lower branches and shoots to show the bare stems even more, turning them into plants on sticks, or mini trees. Come to think of it, once they start to go leggy, this is probably the best strategy, because even if you don’t like the look of the stems, you can hide them with some under-planting.

Over the last few years, with this specimen I’ve been trying the other, rather more difficult approach, which is to prune it to reduce the height, and to encourage it to produce new shoots from lower down on the stems. It’s responded only grudgingly, but I was getting there. I don’t suppose this weather damage is going to help the process, but I think that this plant should at least pull through, in spite of the damage.

On a brighter note, many plants don’t seem to have been affected by the weather. The tulips, for instance, were safely tucked up underground and sensibly waited until the winter was over before doing their thing.

Tulipa ‘Purissima’ ‘The first of the tulips in our garden to start doing it’s thing.


Narcissus ‘Thalia’ – it’s still my favourite daffodil!

Two of my favourite tulips: ‘Balerina’, with ‘Queen of Night’ just coming through


Queen of Night in their prime – a great tulip, named for a great opera

Whether it’s the affect of low temperature, snow, or the icy, burning winds; or a combination of the three, I’ve come across a lot of evergreens, of various species, that have been damaged in this way, with brown, scorched, dead or dying leaves. I’ve seen examples of Viburnum tinus, a stable of municipal planting and domestic gardens, which, having taken a hammering in recent years at the hands (or rather, jaws) of viburnum beetle have lost most of their leaves, this time over the winter. They’re having to start again now, pushing out new leaves, in the same way as deciduous plants do in spring. We call these plants evergreen, but if winters continue to be as harsh as the last one, we may have to refer to them as semi-evergreen, or even deciduous. That’s assuming they survive…


Text and images ©Graham Wright 2018

Australian Beauties

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Spring is here, even in spite of the rain, the cold and the snow. But the terrible weather we’ve had recently isn’t conducive to thinking about what needs to be done in the garden,  so maybe it’s a good time to share a few images of the flora from my recent visit to Australia. Apologies for the patchy use of Latin names!

Staghorn Fern in Brisbane’s Mt Coot-tha Botanic Gardens – You can often see these epiphytic ferns growing in the wild (and sometimes in cities, too)

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Pulverised Penstemons

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Penstemons grow so well here in Cardiff by the sea that unless you have a bad aversion to them, it would be rude not to grow a few. It’s the gulf stream. Being a little on the tender side, further inland they get knocked back by the cold. You should cut them back by half in autumn so that there isn’t so much top growth left that they get pulled about too much in the wind, but there’s enough to protect the stems (and shoots) at the base of the plants from the cold.

My rather sad looking Penstemons (unknown variety)

Here, in the mild sea air, they can often get through the winter pretty much untouched, and the purpose of cutting them back is mainly to stop them growing too big and leggy. Not this year though. This year my penstemons came through the winter looking worse than Monty Don’s, even though he lives in Herefordshire, which is generally much colder than here. Maybe he got less snow than us. I was away, in warm sunny Australia (more to follow in later posts) so I didn’t see it, but I’m hearing tales from my customers of how the snow drifted and piled up against their doors five feet high, so that they really were snowed in. Will the Penstemons pull through? I’m keeping my fingers crossed, but I’m quietly confident.

And the Penstemons aren’t the only casualties of the weather. Here’s that Kangaroo Paw I was crowing about before I went away, but which took a pounding once the weather turned.
Anigothanthos manglesii (Red and Green Kangaroo Paw) – though I doubt even it’s mother would recognise it now.

The perennial wallflowers can make a good show. I particularly like Erisymum ‘Bowles’ Mauve’. They’re short lived plants, quickly going leggy and unsightly, but it’s really easy to take cuttings. Taking the cuttings might be easy, but I’ve never had much luck growing them on. Maybe they don’t like my soil, but they never seem to make good, bushy plants. But the snow seems to have just about finished them off.
Erysimum ‘Bowles’ Mauve’ – Not exactly gracing the garden.

Still, at least not everything in the garden is looking sadder than Harvey Weinstein at an awards ceremony for gentlemanly behaviour (what – too soon?) Here are a few of the success stories:
Camassia cusickii – I split one clump into six at the end of last year, and they’re all romping away. The flower spikes are a lovely pale blue.
Some of the lilies in pots are beginning to get going – this is ‘Original Love’, a large, deep red variety.

We’ve quite a few other bulbs coming through as well, in pots as well as in the ground. We’ve got Tulips, including ‘Ballerina’, ‘Prinses Irene’, ‘Purissima’ and ‘Queen of Night’. We’ve got Daffs, including ‘Hawera’ and the lovely ‘Thalia’. And we’ve got some very pretty little blue numbers, including Scilla sibirica and Chionodoxa.

Chionodoxa luciliae Boiss

 

 

Text and pictures © Graham Wright 2018

 

Never Take the Weather for Granted

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Strelitzia reginae in Brisbane Botanical Gardens

I’ve just come back from visiting relatives in Australia, where I became used to a rather different climate to the one we’re ‘enjoying’ over here. Daytime temperatures were in the low thirties, nights were balmy, meals were mostly eaten outside, and the only protection needed was against the sun – bliss!
Snow in South Wales this morning

I’d left the UK in mid February, and until then the winter had been relatively mild. I had a kangaroo paw (Anigozanthos manglesii) thriving outside, against a protected wall, and with a flower spike about to bloom. My main concern about leaving the garden was that I might not be back in time to see the best of some of the spring bulbs I’d planted in pots – particularly the daffodils, the Chionodoxa, and the Scilla sibirica. Rather stupidly, I assumed we’d got far enough through the winter not to have to worry about a frozen snap, let alone snow. I’d even hedged my bets by leaving the greenhouse door open a little, as the late winter sun had been bringing the temperature up too high.

All was fine for a while. And then news of the ‘beast from the east’ reached us in Australia. Oh well, I thought, at least it’ll delay the bulbs from flowering. And I was pleased to have escaped the weather. And I still had hopes that, sheltered from the worst of the weather by a sunny wall, my ‘roo paw might get through the storm and be ready to burst into flower when I got back. But we had it bad here in Cardiff by the sea, apparently. Though it only lasted three days, the snow was deep, with many roads being closed.
Unidentified eucalypt in the incomparable King’s Park, Perth

When I left, the garden was looking quite perky, with lots of buds and shoots. I came home to find it looking sick. Many of the plants in the greenhouse hadn’t faired too well (leaving me wishing I hadn’t left the door open!) And the flower spike on the kangaroo paw had rotted. The plant itself was looking poorly, but probably retrievable. The weather was mild though (although it felt cold to me, still being in Australia mode). On Friday, when I checked the greenhouse, the temperature was up to twenty-three degrees, so I opened the door partially, to let out some of the heat.

And then of course yesterday, the weather turned cold again. It’s late for snow but that’s what I woke up to this morning. The forecast is for snow to continue throughout the day, with the worst of it here in South Wales. Looking out at the snowy garden, having just got out of bed, I suddenly found myself wondering whether or not I’d remembered to shut the greenhouse door on Friday. I reluctantly went out into the cold (in my dressing gown!) to discover that yes, the greenhouse door was still open, and the snow had drifted in and covered some of the pots on the floor. While I was out there, I took the opportunity to blow as much of the snow as I could off the kangaroo paw, and put it in the greenhouse (the plant, not the snow!) All in all, I’m carrying a large quantity of guilt for having neglected my plants so badly.
Olive and Agave plants basking in the Mediterranean sunshine on our balcony!

The weather in Australia wasn’t all good. In Brisbane, we encountered rain like we’d never seen before (and which was so extreme that it, and the associated flooding, dominated the news channels in Queensland). Streets turned into rivers, and we were wading ankle deep through it. But it was at least warm enough that getting wet wasn’t likely to leave you shivering.

While in Australia (and on our stopover in Singapore on the way home) we visited lots of gardens, and wild areas, and saw some amazing plants and flowers. I might even share some of these with you in subsequent posts.
Orchids in the ‘Cloud Forest’ glasshouse in Singapore’s ‘Gardens by the Bay’

 

Text & images © Graham Wright

Time to Reclaim the Garden…

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At this time of year it can look as though there isn’t much happening in the garden. But while many plants and creatures are still sleeping, others are not. Weeds are among the most resilient of plants in our gardens, and while they may shrink back some what during the winter, some of them will take advantage of any mild spells to put on growth. So by now, when trees and shrubs are budding and some of the perennials are beginning to sprout from the earth, the weeds are well advanced. So now is a good time to get stuck in and take them out.

Scarlett Pimpernel (Anagallis arvensis)


Self-Heal (Prunella vulgaris)


One of the Willow Herbs (Epilobium)?

Pick a good day, when it isn’t too wet, and when the ground isn’t frozen (so not too early in the morning – have a lie-in, you deserve it). And because the soil has been shifted about by the action of freezing and thawing, you should find most weeds can be prised out quite easily with a fork. Put a board down on the soil to step on if you can, to avoid compacting the soil.

Other creatures that rarely seem to stop are slugs and snails, and their grazing on tender new shoots at this time of year can be enough to kill off your perennials. Beer traps can be an effective organic method of control. I sink small glass jars or dishes (something like ramekin dishes are perfect) in the soil, half fill them with beer and put a small piece of stone, tile, or similar over the top of each, suspended on stones, to make a little cairn shelter to keep the rain out

Slug Cairn

Slug Cairn with the lid removed

I put some out a few weeks ago, when the weather was mild, and caught hundreds. I cleaned out and refreshed the traps last week, but as the weather turned colder, this time I haven’t caught many. Rest assured though, that as soon as we have a mild spell, the slugs and snails will be active again. I was doing some digging for a customer last week and came across quite a few slug and snail eggs under the surface. If you want to use slug pellets, do your local wildlife a favour and get ones that are certified organic.

There are plenty of signs that spring is on its way. In my own garden many of the perennials are starting to shoot.
Aconitum (unknown variety)

Hemerocallis (Unknown variety)

And I’ve also had a surprise. A few years ago I grew some Kangaroo Paws (the plants, not the animal parts) from seeds I brought back from Australia. They germinated and grew on well, but one by one they went into decline. I tried them indoors on a sunny window sill – no luck. I tried them in the green house – that didn’t work either. Defeated, I put the last remaining plant outside last summer. It grew well, but didn’t flower. That’s it, I thought. I didn’t bother bringing it in once the summer ended, I thought I might as well leave it outside, even though the cold would be bound to kill it (bear in mind, this plant is native to Western Australia, and semi-desert conditions). Would you believe it, the plant has not only survived, but has produced a flower spike, which shows no sign of being bothered by the frosts. It is by a south-facing house wall, but all the same, it just goes to show that whatever the text books tell you, whatever other gardeners tell you, only the plant can tell you what conditions it really wants!

Red & Green Kangaroo Paw (Anigozanthos manglesii)

Text & pictures copyright Graham Wright 2018

Garden Visit – National Botanic Garden of Wales

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On a cold, frosty and windy Sunday in January I got up and set off early (well, early for me) for the National Botanic Garden of Wales, near Llanarthne, Carmarthenshire (https://botanicgarden.wales/). I’ve visited the gardens before, but never at this time of year, and I have to admit to wondering whether there would be enough of interest to merit braving the icy wind. Once there however, it didn’t take me long to forget my doubts.

It’s true that most of the perennial plants, as is this case in all gardens, had shrunk back into the ground, not to be seen again until the spring. And the deciduous trees and shrubs were devoid of leaves. But there’s something marvellous about seeing a garden stripped back to it’s structural elements; particularly a garden that is so extensive, varied, and beautifully laid out as this one. And despite the cold, the day was perfect; bright and sunny, with the winter light from the sun low in the sky making the water in the fountains and rills sparkle and shine. Backlit, and constantly moving in the breeze, the many species and varieties of decorative grasses that flow through the gardens were dynamic and bright. Continue reading →