Of the six fruit trees we planted in our mini orchard in the autumn of 2020, the damson has grown to be the biggest, and this year produced the most fruit. Last weekend we picked around three kilos..
The variety is ‘ Cheshire Damson’. They’re surprisingly sweet – I’d always thought they were too sour to eat fresh, but these are almost as sweet as plums. But as there were too many to use before they go off, we decided to have a go at making jam (a first for us). Here it is (well, most of it – we’ve already used one jar and given another away)…
Making jam is a bit of a faff. Luckily for me, my better half did most of the heavy lifting. We both took turns at picking the stones out from the pan while the mix was cooking. It was a bit like fishing, and a messy job. The alternative would have been to try and cut them out from the fruit before cooking, but they don’t come out easily. The recipe came from the internet, but apparently it’s a standard recipe – just equal amounts of fruit and sugar, plus a little bit of water. It wasn’t clear whether the weight of the fruit was with, or without the stones! We weren’t sure the jam was going to set, but it seems to have thickened up reasonably well, and it tastes good.
Once most of the damsons had been picked I took the opportunity to prune the tree. For free standing apple or pear trees, you would normally prune in the dormant season, but damsons, plums and cherries are in the genus Prunus, which can be susceptible to a disease called silver leaf, which spreads more easily when it’s cold and damp. To minimise the chance of infection, it’s recommended they should be pruned in summer. September is a little late, but it was a dry spell (quite rare for this year).
The growth of damson trees seems to be somewhat wayward, and I had to cut out a lot of branches that were crossing or growing into the centre of the tree. Once I’d dealt with these to reduce the congestion and open up the tree to more light and air, I trimmed a little from the ends of the outer branches – particularly at the top – to an outward facing bud, to reduce the height. So hopefully it will be going into autumn in good shape. And in the depths of winter, when we’re tucking into bread and jam for tea, we’ll remember the garden at its verdant best!
It hardly seems as though we’ve had summer yet, but looking at our apple trees, it suddenly struck me that the season is coming to a close. Perhaps their progress is ahead of schedule this year (although I don’t know why that would be with all the cool weather we’ve had, and the slow start to the growing season). These are apples on ‘James Grieve’, a lovely eating apple that can also be used in cooking. Sadly, it doesn’t store…
The tree is laden with fruit. I did some thinning earlier in the “summer”, but conservatively – I don’t like to take off too many because the trees will lose fruit in the ‘June drop’ and again in the ‘pre-harvest drop’, and if you’re not careful, you can end up with too little. Apples have been falling every day – exacerbated by the windy weather. All have been attacked by pests, and tend to have rotten patches and contain grubs (and sometimes an earwig will crawl out of a hole!) The grubs are, I think, larvae of the codling moth.
Looking at the apples that are still on the tree, most seem to have some sort of insect damage. I really must take more care to put grease bands on the trunks in good time next year (although the pests seem to find their way to the fruit anyway). The windfalls are fine, but we’ve had to cut them up, and use them quickly before the rot spreads, which is difficult because there are so many of them.
We have two apple trees. The other – ‘Worcester Pearmain’ has less fruit, but they’re a good size – last year it produced a crop of under-sized apples. This variety keeps much better – if we can find some that are undamaged.
The pears aren’t so good. ‘Packham’s Triumph’ isn’t living up to its name, having no fruit this year. ‘Concorde’ is better, but not exactly laden down. Although they are supposed to be in the same flowering group, there wasn’t much of an overlap, which could explain why fruit set was patchy. Touch wood, the pears don’t seem to suffer anything like as much damage from pests as apples; the one exception being wasps (of the social, yellow jacket kind) but so far, there have been very few of these this year.
Of the six trees in our mini orchard, it’s the damson that has grown the most, and this year it’s got quite a few damsons, which are ripening well. We’ve tried a few windfalls, and they were surprisingly sweet, but we’ll probably try our hands at making jam (a first!) with most of the crop.
The summer raspberries are in their first year (the first set of canes we planted didn’t take) but we’ve had some fruit from them.
The autumn raspberries have been a continuing trauma. Once again they put on impressive growth, but only one cane is producing fruit. The yellow berries are very tasty, but it’s a meagre crop for a whole, lush row of raspberry canes. At the end of the season I’ll thin the canes out a bit more, but leave some to see if they produce fruit early – alongside the summer ones. They should also produce new canes for autumn fruiting. This is known as double-cropping (thanks to Cathy at Rambling in the garden, who does this successfully and has been advising me). I wonder if my soil is short of potassium, which promotes flower growth? Wood ash is touted as a good source of potassium, so I may have to get the wood stove going this winter to provide a supply for next year.
The veg patch has given us a better crop of peas than in previous years, which we’ve tended to have raw in salads (there haven’t really been enough for main meals).
Broad beans have been similar. Both are coming to and end now.
The runner beans have been very slow again this year; it’s only now that they’re beginning to produce a regular crop from what is now a lush wigwam of plants.
While butterflies have been in short supply this year, there’s been no shortage of earwigs, which I suspect have been responsible for eating the flowers on the runner beans, and delaying the crop. I try to tolerate wildlife where I can, such as this caterpillar of a vapourer moth on the plum tree.
The fruit and veg may be telling us the season’s coming to a close, but the garden has more to give before autumn sets in. Asters grow well in our garden, and spread well too, so we have plenty of them. They’re close to flowering, and should put on a good show.
Hydrangea paniculata ‘Limelight’ has this year achieved something like its full size, with lots of large flower heads which will persist and look good (as they dry) well into winter. Hydrangeas are known to like plenty of moisture. The paniculata varieties are more drought tolerant, though as you can see from this photo, the leaves are somewhat droopy – we really do need some rain now.
Hesperantha (formerly Schyzostylis) is a tough plant that has spread freely around the pond. It’s a late flowerer, and is doing its thing now. In the background is a purple Lobelia x. speciosa ‘Tania’. Unlike the more popular Lobelia cardinalis ‘Queen Victoria’, which I’ve not managed to get through a winter, this one is in its third year.
And the Japanese anemones are in full bloom now. This is A. ‘Honorine Jobert’ against a dark backdrop of Actaea ‘Brunette’ (which is readying its fragrant white flower spikes as I write) in the white border…
Summer will soon be drawing to a close. It seems particularly unfair that while so far it’s been largely cool and cloudy, we’re in the middle of another drought. Maybe there’ll be some more warmth and sunshine (as well as rain!) to come before autumn. We live in hope. Actually we don’t – Hope is a small town in Derbyshire – but you know what I mean…
I finally managed to fit in a visit to the RHS Bridgewater Garden; my first this year. Bridgewater is fairly new by garden standards, having been created just over three years ago. It was good to see that the gardens are coming along. This is the Welcome Garden, close to the main building…
As you can see, Bridgewater features mass plantings of perennials (including many grasses). It’s heavily influenced by the ‘Prairie style’, which I’ve previously described as ‘carpet bedding on steroids’, largely because it lacks height. There are taller focal points among the perennials – mostly topiarised forms of native beech (Fagus sylvatica), but also some smaller trees that are being allowed to do their own thing. These are becoming more prominent as they grow, ameliorating the sense of flatness.
I may have my reservations about the style of planting, but I would have to admit that the perennials were looking stunning. Veronicastrum features heavily (I’ve not sure which variety they’re using – it could be V. ‘Fascination’)…
A path leading to the Paradise Garden was flanked with lush and fiery tropical-style planting…
I was interested to see how the Chinese streamside garden was developing. I can’t remember whether this impressive wooden pagoda was there when I last visited. It was very popular with the children. Of course it’s the school holidays now, so the garden was busy, but I managed to capture it without any people around…
The streamside garden was looking good. There are still some areas that are very weedy (i.e., they’ve been left to be colonised by native plants!) I presume these will be developed and planted eventually, but they’re so big the RHS has got it’s work cut out. The areas that have been planted look great…
The RHS are running two trials at the Bridgewater Gardens at the moment; one of Heleniums (many of which are yet to flower) and another of Hydrangea paniculata varieties. These were all, to some extent, blooming, and together made quite a show…
Some of the varieties had enormous flower heads. I can’t remember which variety this one is (it looks similar to H ‘Limelight’, which I’ve got in my own garden) but the blooms were huge…
The Paradise garden was perhaps at its peak. The silver-leaf tree/shrub is sea buckthorn (Hippophae rhamnoides), which has white flowers in April, followed by edible orange berries (which are apparently rich in vitamin C) in the female, so long as there is a male nearby to pollinate. There are a few sea buckthorns dotted around the gardens. The idea was, I believe, that they would be a native alternative to olive, which can sulk in our damp, cold climate (and shipping them in from overseas isn’t very sustainable either). I think they do a very good job – the name ‘sea buckthorn’ sounds uninspiring to me, but the plants themselves look both spectacular, and also very Mediterranean…
There are two fabulous, long glasshouses, backing onto the brick building behind. One has cacti and succulents. The one below is for fruit; with grape vines, peaches, tomatoes and basil all looking lush and healthy, and aubergine plants just setting fruit…
Elsewhere, a few other plants caught my attention. Here is a ginger – one of a clump – with a beautiful flower…
And this Inula was quite striking too…
Creating Bridgewater gardens on the overgrown site of an extant country estate (Worsley New Hall, Salford) was a massive, daunting project, but the RHS have created something very beautiful (and well worth a visit, if you can get there)…
Some of you may have noticed a little blunder on my latest post. Entitled ‘Hellebores and more…’ it was about day lilies, which are of course Hemerocallis, and not Hellebore. So many plant names, the Latin all seems to run into one after a while. Or maybe I’m getting old!
It’s just over a week since we came home from twelve nights in Andalucia, to find the Hemerocallis (day lilies) were in full bloom.
I’d like to be able to tell you what varieties we have, but as they were all here in the garden when we arrived, and there were no labels, I don’t know. I’ve an idea the red one above (my favourite) might be ‘Stafford’. But I can’t be sure. I should do some more research. Some of the others we have come in unusual colours. This brown-maroon hellebore is quite impressive…
I’m not so sure about the next, which I would describe as flesh-coloured…
Before we went away, we prepared plants as much as possible, watering those in pots, and moving them into shade. The weather forecast showed mostly dull weather – not too much rain, but not hot. Never trust a weather forecast! We apparently missed the best of the summer, with 27 degrees centigrade one day, no rain (until the day before we got back) and quite a bit of sunshine. Consequentially, we lost some plants. Particularly upsetting is the Eucalyptus Moorei ‘Nana’ that I’d grown on from a tiny plant. Due to time constraints, and the weight of the pot it’s in, I didn’t move it into shade – a bad mistake. Oh course it might yet recover. But it looks dead to me (or as they say in Australia “It’s cactus, mate!) I guess that serves us right for going on holiday.
No-mow May, on the rear lawn, morphed into no-mow June, and now no-mow July…
At this point I would be inclined to cut the grass, but I’ve learnt from previous years that if you leave the grass long you get grasshoppers, and we have. So far, they’re only small. I love to have them hopping around – they really bring the garden to life. I don’t want to obliterate the habitat they need to complete their lifecycle. So we’ll just have to make the most of the meadow look for now.
Elsewhere in the garden, Helleniums are just coming into flower…
And this is Phygelius (again, it pre-dates our arrival, so I don’t know the variety). Not a plant I’ve had much time for until now. It often looks scrappy. And some varieties spread vigorously throughout borders and into the lawn. This one is a bit more shy, and I have to admit, it looks good at the moment…
We’ve planted quite a few Aconitums around the garden, and many are flowering now. I love their spikes of hooded flowers. Most are A. napellus varieties, but there are also some A. carmichaelii, which flower later. I’m still on the lookout for white-flowered varieties for our white bed by the house, after the supposedly white ones I ordered from a well-known nursery (who shall remain un-named) turned out to be blue!
I’m trying to introduce clematis into the garden because, as well as adding height, they look beautiful. But I’ve got my work cut out; probably because they don’t like our thin soil. The white Clematis alpina I put in was fine in it’s first year, but this year, it died. There are three type 3 clematis I’m trying. C. vitiwester, now in its third year, is feeble…
C. ‘Vanessa’ (pale blue) has put on more growth, and it will be interesting to see how the flowers turn out (it doesn’t flower until August).
We also have not one, but four C. perle d’Azur- all divisions from an unwanted plant I dug up from a customer’s garden. It’s early days, but so far they are doing alright…
The geraniums have been good so far. This is, I think, G. ‘Eureka’…
The maintenance has slipped a bit this year. Before we went away, we had our work cut out clearing the spent forget-me-nots we’d glibly allowed to set seed all around the garden (even in the white bed!) Since coming home, I’ve spent many hours pulling up the foxgloves before they spill millions of tiny seeds all over the beds. I’m leaving the white ones to seed, in the hope that we get more of those next year.
Another plant that seems to think it owns the garden is Verbascum chaixii ‘Album’. Unlike the foxgloves and forget-me-nots, this is a plant we bought. We started with two small perennials…
As you can see, it grows very easily from seed. And has huge tap roots. As I’m working my way through the large, main bed, I’m realising that many of the other perennials have been overwhelmed by a combination of foxgloves and verbascum. This bed was looking very overcrowded. It needs both more structure, and more diversity. I’m taking out all of the foxgloves (there are already more coming) and starting to judiciously edit the verbascums (with the intention of removing spent flower spikes from those that remain, before they set seed). It’s already looking better.
Lastly, an oddity. I believe we started out with three plants of Iris chrysographes; a black iris. There is only one left, but it flowered well earlier this year, and now has large seed pods forming. So perhaps I can grow some more on from seed.
The foxgloves are in full swing now. These useful biennials seed themselves around all over the garden. Those that are where you don’t want them to be can be pulled out easily (and make a nice clump of greenery to feed to the compost). I probably don’t ‘edit’ them as much as I should.
Here and there a white one pops up. Last year I tried to dead head the purple ones and allow the white to seed, because I prefer the white ones (particularly in the beds where I’m aiming for a white theme). Clearly, I wasn’t very successful.
You can, supposedly, tell what colour flower the seedlings will produce by looking at the stem colour (the purple ones have darker stems and veins) but this hasn’t worked for me. Perhaps I didn’t study them hard enough. The purple forms are pretty too though.
Sweet rocket (Hesperis matronalis) can self seed too. The year we grew them from seed they filled the borders, but they’ve diminished in the following years (too much ‘editing’?)
These campanulas were here before we arrived, and also seed around freely. I’m not complaining – there’s nothing like having beautiful plants for free!) Like the foxgloves, some of the seedlings turn out white. Most are in shades of lilac.
Keeping on the theme of self-seeders, we planted Phacelia as a green manure one year, and loved the flowers so much we couldn’t bear to dig the plants into the ground. They too come up year after year. The flowers are pretty, long-lived – even in a vase – and have a sweet smell like honey. And the bees absolutely love them.
On a more cultivated note, we were disappointed last year with how quickly the Allium hollandicum ‘Purple Sensation’ flowers were over. Allium Christophii, on the other hand, lasted much longer. So we bought some bulbs of those last autumn, planted them into pots (thank you Monty Don and Gardeners’ World for that tip) and popped them into the garden in spring.
Here are some more of the highlights at the moment…
Baptisia australis (apparently native to America, not Australia!)Rosa ‘Claire Austin’Planting around the pond is filling out – Iris sibirica, hostas and Ligularia dentata ‘Midnight Lady’Stipa gigantea (oat grass). Close up, you can see the pretty, tiny, yellow flowersRosa ‘Gertrude Jekyll’ – one of the best roses for fragranceSalvia ‘Nachtvlinder’ – I’ve given up with ‘Amistad’, because I’ve been unable to over-winter it. ‘Nachtvlinder’ has smaller flowers, but is fully hardy
The garden moves on at pace, and I feel a weight of responsibility to try and fully enjoy each new highlight as it happens, and before it’s over without me having even noticed!
It’s been a long time coming, but finally we have roses blooming in the garden. I don’t know why it’s taken so long. We’re quite exposed – the wind blows in across the open fields of North Shropshire. But there’s a native hedge, with hawthorn, blackthorn, crab apple, and others, around the garden. Before we moved here it had been kept cut back to around a metre and a half high, but we’ve let it grow up and fill out, so it should be providing good shelter. This isn’t the warmest area in the country, but neither is it among the coldest. And other plants are no later than elsewhere (fruit trees, for instance). Maybe it’s the soil – dusty, sandy soil wouldn’t be the first choice for a discerning rose. Never mind, they’re here now. This is ‘Gertrude Jekyll’…
And below is ‘Munstead Wood’, another David Austin Rose, though for some reason the company have discontinued it. A shame, because, as you can see, it’s a lovely rose, with a rich burgundy that’s difficult to find elsewhere. I really must try taking some cuttings (don’t tell David Austin!) These pictures were taken during a period of prolonged, mostly heavy rain yesterday, hence the blooms are looking a little sad (wouldn’t you be too?)…
For the past two seasons we’ve had problems with the flowers on our roses. Something, I suspect, is attacking the buds, Sometimes the tops appear to have been nibbled away, so they don’t come out properly. With others, there’s a more fundamental level of damage which results in a completely distorted (often quite small) flower. The yellow rose in the front garden was particularly badly affected last year. Every flower it produced had ragged petals. I’ve yet to identify the culprits. It could be wasps – they’ve been known to munch on rosebuds or, more likely, earwigs – we get a lot of those. But I haven’t caught either of these red-handed. In fact, I’ve not seen any pests actively attacking buds, either during the day, or at night. I’ve not found anything in my mini horticultural library (i.e., my gardening books!) that helps. I may have to ask the RHS (members can contact them for help with specific problems). I pruned off most of the damaged buds and flowers without thinking to take photos, but I managed to find a few that don’t look right this morning. This is a red climbing rose that wasn’t affected last year…
This is a damaged bud doing its best to open on ‘Gertrude Jekyll’…
And this is on the yellow rose (it pre-dates my time in the garden, so I don’t know the variety)…
If any of you have ideas about what might be causing the damage, I’ve love to hear them. It’s always a shame when plants are attacked. But I guess that’s just the way nature works. We have to try and create a balance in the garden and then hope for the best.
The garden is growing rapidly now, with something new to see every day. Most of the trees and shrubs are well on the way to being in leaf, and the warmer temperatures of the last few days are really pushing things on. Around the pond, the camassias have put on a better show than I was expecting. They’re quite dainty looking plants – the ones I’ve grown before were more robust, with thick, strappy leaves. It could be that these are a different variety, or it may be because the soil we have here is thin and sandy…
These photos were taken around a week ago, and already the flower spikes are nearly finished – they don’t last for long! In just a few days they’ll have been replaced by the iris sibirica. There are a few out already, and the rest will follow soon.
These came with me from my last garden (or at least, a clump did). And those were a division from a lovely customer in Penarth. They are incredibly successful, bulking up quickly, and able to be divided within just one or two years. There are now numerous clumps around the pond, and some that have been planted elsewhere too. They don’t flower for ever so long, but the faded flower spikes continue to look good all year.
The tree peony had half a dozen blooms this year. A few years ago it nearly died, and I suspect what we have now has grown up from the rootstock to replace the grafted plant. But it’s still impressive…
After a slow start, the hostas are coming good. This is ‘Patriot’…
And this, ‘Halcyon’…
I split two of the large ferns that were here when we came and spread the offsets through the shadier spots in the garden, and they’re doing well so far…
The two Fagus sylvatic ‘Dawyck’ trees that I planted (one green, the other purple) are out, and beginning to gain some presence. This is the purple one, with the Viburnum plicatum Mariesii in full bloom behind and to the left, and a white rhododendron on the right…
We’ve got the first Allium hollandicum (‘Purple sensation) out (the rest are close behind)…
The chives are out too, and the first Eschscholzia flower…
This solitary kaffir lily (Used to be Schizostylis, now Hesperantha – thanks botanists!) seems to have got confused – it’s compatriots won’t be flowering until late summer…
And the first of the large butterflies has made an appearance. This, I believe, is a peacock…
There are other things happening, but I don’t want to overload you. Lets just say that the daily wander around the garden is a joy at this time of year (especially now the weather has warmed up).
We visited Holehird gardens a week ago, while on a short break in the Lake District. We walked from our bed and breakfast accommodation on the road south of Windermere, and fitted in an obligatory coffee stop in the town on the way. Homeground looked to be the place to go, but people were queuing up outside to get in, so we walked on and found a smaller place, called Toast a bit further on. It was very quiet, but a great find. You’d have to go a very long way to get a better coffee. And their brownies were pretty lush too.
From Windermere, we took the path up to Orrest Head, and then carried on down the other side and across country, and with a bit of trial and error managed to get to the gardens. Holehird is a ten acre fellside garden managed by the Lakeland Horticultural Society. It’s an RHS partner garden, so I could have got in free, but the entrance fee is only five pounds, so I decided to pay anyway (with a bit of encouragement from the lady on the desk). The gardens are run by volunteers, so it seems like a very good cause.
At the centre is a walled garden, with herbaceous borders, island beds, a glasshouse and and stone troughs for alpine plants. The tulip display was in full flush…
Holehird gardens have been laid out with a wide range of habitats, and support a fascinating and diverse range of plants. Aesthetically beautiful, they’re also a plantsperson’s dream. And the labelling is as good as I’ve seen in any garden.
The surrounding landscape – the fells – is dramatic, and forms a great backdrop for the gardens. It reminded me a little of gardens in Snowdonia – particularly Bodnant, and Plas Brondanw.
You can see from the photos that the weather was moody, but there wasn’t anything more than a few spits and spots of rain, which isn’t a bad day for the Lake District.
There isn’t a cafe at Holehird, which meant we had to do without lunch – we really should have been more organised and taken a picnic. They do have a machine for basic tea and coffee, so we were able to sit sipping a warm drink in the walled garden. After a couple of happy hours wandering around the gardens, we set off on the walk back to Windermere. In all, we’d walked quite a long way, so we were ready for a rest (and some food!).
Like many people, we planted tulips in containers (last November) to make a show in spring. While ours survived the wet winter without any problems, the wind and the storms have been more of a challenge. Our pots have been in and out of the greenhouse to protect them from wind and rain damage (and then in and out of the garage, when we realised the warmth and light of the glasshouse was bringing them on too quickly!)
We limited ourselves to three varieties; fifteen of each – Queen of Night (Purple), Princes Irene (Orange) and Spring Green (cream/green).
There is a problem! As you can see in the next picture, only three of the Spring Green turned out to be Spring Green. The other twelve are a frilly yellow number – not really ‘us’!
We bought them mail order from a certain well known nursery with the initials S.R. (a little clue for you). This is not the first time we’ve bought tulips and been given the wrong cultivar (though that was from a different supplier). And then there were the white aconitums that turned out to be blue (a different supplier again). I think this must be a common problem, as on Gardeners’ World last week Monty Don was showing off a whole bed of vibrant magenta tulips that he had expected to be a much softer tone. So much for planning. To re-work an old joke;
‘How do you make a plant supplier laugh? Give them your garden plan.’
Despite the unexpected colour, the bulbs were good quality, and of a size to give a big flower in their first season. It’s generally recognised they will produce smaller flowers in subsequent years (some people – wasteful souls – throw their bulbs away and start afresh each year). Less extravagant folk (I’ve got that in common with Monty) will plant their tulips in the garden once the show is over, in the hope they may naturalise – the flowers may be smaller, but they still make a good show.
Tulips we put in the garden seem to have declined since last year – probably due to the wet winter. Ballerina seems to have held up well…
Others varieties, such as Prinses Irene, Queen of Night, and Negrita seem to have largely gone, but for a few isolated survivors…
The same is true for the white variety Purity. As for Pieter de Le Leur; last year it was fine, but this year the plants and flowers were so attacked by an unidentified critter, they were unrecognisable.
Daffodils too have suffered. Tete a Tete, and the regular tall, yellow trumpeted varieties were as good as ever. But there aren’t many Narcissus ‘Thalia’ left. These few are in the white (except for the invading myosotis, of course) bed by the house…
Talking of forget-me-nots, the garden is awash with them at the moment. If I’d had the time, I would have edited the self-sown seedlings out a little more. On the other hand, they do look good – very romantic…
Another self-seeder that has really taken off this year – a biennial – is honesty (Lunaria)…
Things in the garden are moving at pace now, with something new to see every day. The Chocolate vine (Akebia quinata) is flowering on the pergola. Unfortunately our resident wood pigeons have taken a fancy to the new leaves, shoots and flowers, so the plants hang down well, where they are out of reach, but are looking a bit bald on top (I know how they feel!)
And thanks to the (relatively) mild winter and lack of hard frosts, this year the three Pieris are showing undamaged (so far) bright red/pink new leaves.
It shouldn’t be long now before the first of the roses are flowering (if they survive the current strong winds ravaging the garden as I type). I can’t wait.
