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)…
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!).
It’s early to be visiting gardens, but it’s been a long winter, and we were chomping at the bit, so at the weekend Mrs Pullingweeds and I decided to head over to National Trust Bodnant Gardens in North Wales (near Llandudno). It was a cold day; grey and cloudy, and with a biting wind. On arrival we found a bench on which to sit and eat the sandwiches we’d brought. Fortunately the large, flat, grass terrace behind the house was quite sheltered. And as you can see, the magnolias were in full bloom…
This little parterre with a fountain – more or less first thing you see on entering the garden – is one of my favourite areas. It’s understated and calming, being predominantly green, and sets up the view through to the garden beyond. The contrasting textures and shades of green, and the different forms of evergreen – upright, prostrate; clipped, make it visually dynamic. That’s a Sarcococca hedge at the front – in winter, the scent it produced will have been amazing.
Spring bulbs were everywhere, including lots of fragrant hyacinths…
The blooms of a pink Chaenomeles (Japanese Quince) set against a retaining wall looked quintessentially (or is it Quincessentially?) Japanese…
Magnolias are a feature of the gardens, and we were surprised to see how advanced they were. Judging by the range of plants that grow successfully outside, I think Bodnant must have a mild climate. It’s on the edge of Snowdonia (now known as Eryri) but in a valley. There are lots of mature trees which must act as a shelter belt.
On a bank of one of the streams this flower was the first to come out on a Magnolia stellata…
Bodnant must have soil with a low pH value, as Rhododendrons flourish there, with a range of unusual varieties…
Another sign of acidic soil, there is an extensive collection of Camellias, many of which are in bloom now…
The cascading white bells of Pieris were at their best when we visited…
Bodnant has a large winter garden, which provides interest through colourful stems, evergreens, and winter-flowering plants..
The house is private, so not open to the public, though it’s very visible at the top end of the garden, and it’s a very attractive stone house that sits well in the landscape. There are a few garden buildings, including the ‘iconic’ Pin Mill (at the top of this post), and this striking mausoleum set into a valley side…
Bodnant is a large site – around 80 acres – so there’s plenty of walking to be had, along streamside paths, through woods, and open areas (as well as the large formal gardens). Some of the fields were planted up with daffodils…
Daffodils feature quite heavily in the gardens at this time of year, with lots of different varieties…
There are plenty of Hellebores too…
And here and there, a few irises…
This Edgworthia chrysantha ‘Red Dragon’ caught my eye. Not a plant I’ve grown, perhaps because it’s quite tender; needing a sheltered position, ideally in a relatively mild climate. This one was tucked away beneath a large rhododendron. The flower clusters stood out well, with an interesting structure. And the scent was very pleasant…
Bodnant is unusual in that, in addition to the standard garden centre shop, it has a very long, narrow stone building that serves as a shop for local craftworkers and artists, so if you visit, it’s worth allowing some extra time for a browse. The garden centre is privately run. It seemed quite expensive – I think they must have put their prices up. Having said that, they do sell a selection of small pots of both perennials and shrubs at very reasonable prices (e.g. Forsythia in a 9cm pot for £4.99). There is more than one cafe too. The range of cakes was limited when we went, but apparently they had been unexpectedly busy. The cakes we did have were very good.
Bodnant is a fantastic garden, in a spectacular setting, with mountains in the background to the south, and the estuary to the North West. The gardens are a plant-lover’s dream. If you are anywhere near, I can thoroughly recommend a visit.
What was planned as an invigorating visit to Bodnant gardens in North Wales, to see glowing stems and frosted seed heads lit up by the low winter sun, turned out to be a rather grey, damp affair with icy rain. Never trust a weather forecast.
It started bright enough, but driving along the A55 – the coast road – we could see heavy cloud and obliterating showers banked up just out to sea. The cloud was beginning to move in as we parked, but the sun was still lighting up the snow-covered Snowdonia hills to the south.
A carpet of golden-yellow leaves beneath a Ginko biloba.
By the time we were through the turnstiles the rain was just starting. Luckily, Bodnant provide umbrellas – nice bright yellow ones that make it look as though the sun’s shining even when it isn’t. For a while, the rain was light, and intermittent, and the sun peeped out very briefly now and then.
Blue hydrangea blooms looking incongruous against the surface of a pond speckled with autumn leaves – I suspect these flowers came when the plant burst back into life after being cut back by the extraordinary heatwave.
Bodnant has a winter garden, full of plants that look good at this time of year. Evergreen Daphne bholua had some flowers, with more to come, though they were too frosted to release any of the scent for which this plant is famous. Colourful stems of Cornus (dogwood) ranged from pale green (C. sericea ‘Flaviramea’), through fiery orange-red C. sanguinea ‘Midwinter Fire’ to dark red C. alba ‘Kesselringii’. There were ghostly white arcs of Rubus cockburnianus, plenty of berries and seed heads, and ethereal, structural remains of grasses from Molinia to Miscanthus to Calamagrostis. Beautifully textured and coloured trunks of deciduous trees included the deep red, burnished Prunus serrula, shining white Betula utilis ‘Jacquemontii’ (Himalayan birch), the coppery peeling bark of Acer griseum (paperbark maple), and, a Snakebark maple that was new to me; Acer x conspicuum ‘Phoenix’, with orange-red trunk and branches.
Opposite the main restaurant, Prunus serrula rise from a thicket of Cornus sanguinea ‘Midwinter Fire’, the leaves of which are rather an insipid green during the growing season, but take on impressive autumn colours (and, as you can see, stay on the plants for a long time).
At Bodnant, there are plenty of evergreens to act as a backdrop to all those bright highlights. Having acid soil, the garden is well-furnished with rhododendrons and camellias, as well as more tender specimens such as Callistemon (bottlebrush) and arbutus unedos (strawberry tree). Pines, both small and large, work particularly well in the winter garden; providing a dense, finely textured background to stems, grasses, trunks and berries, and at Bodnant, they make good use of these.
A group of three Acer x conspicuum ‘Phoenix’ give a splash of colour among evergreens and pale stems. The spidery flowers of the Hamamelis (witch hazel) on the left are getting ready to bloom, and should be out soon.
The sun did come out weakly now and then, as you can see from the pictures, but I didn’t take many photos – I didn’t want the camera to get too wet, and I was counting on the weather clearing later on. But by the time we’d had lunch in the cafe by the garden centre, the rain had set in and it was as dark as dusk, so I never got that low winter sunlight I’d been hoping for. Never mind; there’s always next year!
Last Friday, Julie and I went to the RHS flower show at Tatton Park. Sadly, it wasn’t the best day out we’ve ever had.
I needed that coffee!
The weather didn’t help; it was a very wet day. I think it’s the crowds I find most difficult. When it rains, everyone piles into the floral marquee, and the crush is intolerable. I had a plan to beat the crowds – do the outside bits when it was raining, and save the stands under canvas for when it was drier, and most people had ventured out. But that corresponded with a heavy and prolonged shower – we lasted for about ten minutes before the rain began to soak through our (supposedly) waterproofs, and we gave up and joined the melee inside.
I was able to chat with some of the suppliers, and pick up some brochures for garden structures, furniture, etc. – vital resources for my garden design work.
One of the biggest disappointments was the plant sales. ‘The place to buy plants’, the publicity material said. But something very strange happened on Saturday – something pretty much unprecedented. I came away without having bought a single plant. Not one! Why? Well, there were a number of factors. With the exception of a few stands selling unusual, lesser-known plants, most had the same, very limited range. For instance, I was looking for Achilleas, but there were mostly just two named varieties on show, both of which were unfamiliar (presumably new) varieties with daft names. I was after known, tried and tested varieties, with predictable growth habits.
Lysimachia ‘Beaujolais’ used in one of the show gardens
Lysimachia ‘Beaujolais’ has been on my wish list for sometime, so I was happy to see it used in a show garden. But could I find any for sale on any of the stalls? No I couldn’t.
This garden was designed to celebrate an anniversary – I can’t remember what for, but it wasn’t what you’re thinking!
There were at least three stalls selling an admittedly good range of allium bulbs. But why the repetition? And do you really want to plant allium bulbs this early? I don’t.
Most of the plants for sale (such as the Achilleas) were in full bloom, which isn’t the best way to buy plants (because the only way from there is downwards). I did see some that will flower later, such as Actaea (which weren’t on my list because, ironically, I stocked up on those earlier in the season). Asters would have been the perfect plants to sell – ready to put in the ground now, to flower around a month from now. But no. I guess they want to put on a display of plants that are looking good now, to encourage the customers to buy those.
And finally, plant prices were high (though not nearly as high as the price of a coffee!) I don’t know, am I expecting too much? You pay thirty quid entrance fee to a flower show advertised as ‘the place to buy plants’, only to find those plants are more expensive than at a nursery. Add in the rain and the crowds of people, very few of whom seemed to have any awareness of anyone other than themselves (although, perhaps they were thinking the same of me!) and, all in all, it would be much more pleasant to browse on-line for plants that are cheaper (and probably in better condition) from a nursery, such as:
You can’t blame the organisers for the weather. The show began in that hot spell, which will have made things difficult for everyone involved, as well as for the plants. Thirty-odd degrees centigrade is difficult to work in anywhere, but in the UK it seemed eery, cataclysmic; plain wrong.
The show is big – so big that we missed some of the show gardens (should have paid more attention to the maps on the notice boards). I would have bought a show guide, but at £7 for what (I’m guessing) is probably mostly advertising, we gave that a miss. Maybe the RHS aren’t aware there’s a cost of living crisis?
The show gardens we did see, which were mostly the young designer gardens, were very good. Although why no-one thought to dissuade the designer of the paradise garden to put a shiny, lipstick-pink fountain at its centre, beats me. Apparently some features are banned at these shows. A tasteful gnome or two would have been entirely innocuous beside that pink aberration (the rest of that garden was very nice).
I’d show you more photos of the show gardens, but what with the rain and all the people in the way, I didn’t take many.
The stands in the floral marquee were very impressive too, with wonderful displays of cacti, gladioli, streptocarpus, and more. But getting into position to actually see them was stressful. Like many gardeners, I suffer back problems, and I find shuffling my way through crowds does my back no favours. So, after nearly four hours, we gave in to the cold, the wet, the crowds, and to ‘show fatigue’, and went away in search of somewhere to sit down in the warm with a coffee and cake (with the ever-so-slightly troubling feeling we hadn’t seen everything we could have, hanging in the back of our minds).
Yesterday, we watched the highlights from the show (recorded on one of the hot, sunny days) on Gardeners’ World, from the comfort of our living room. Which was, I have to say, much more comfortable…
Just over a week ago, I visited Hodnet Hall Gardens near Market Drayton in Shropshire. It was a bright (if cool) day, and everything in the garden was coming into life. Hodnet has a series of lakes, with woodland walks around them. In places, the trees were under-planted with bluebells, and I was lucky to be there just as they were at their best…
The light was bright and clear, visibility was good, and there were some lovely reflections on the lakes. The swans were at their most serene…
Hodnet is one of two very impressive gardens close to where I live (the other being Wollerton Old Hall). Both are very special places, so if you’re ever in the area, do try to fit in a visit.
The circular garden – in a few weeks the peonies and roses will add a blast of colour
I’ve lived in North Shropshire for over two years, and Shrewsbury is my nearest large town, but despite having sampled many of its delights on a number of visits, it wasn’t until about a month ago that I discovered the park known as ‘The Dingle’. And what a find! Set in a depression at the centre of an area of parkland known as The Quarry, The Dingle is what might traditionally be referred to as a municipal park. The wider area of parkland – grass and trees – is wrapped around by a bend of the river Severn, and the whole is overlooked by the pretty St Chad’s church (an attractive round building that from above looks curiously like the Starship Enterprise).
Contrary to so many municipal parks that are unloved (particularly in these hard times) The Dingle is very well cared for, with an attractive small lake surrounded by shrubs and perennial beds. There’s also an area of formal bedding – not exactly ‘on-trend’ but probably historically correct (I’m guessing it was set up in Victorian times).
I visited at the beginning of April, on a bright, if cool, day. The early season bedding of daffodils and tulips, wallflowers, primulas and forget-me-nots were looking bright and cheerful. There was blossom on trees, and the fresh, red shoots of the pieris were apparently undamaged by frost (it may be The Dingle’s sunken aspect lends it some protection). Quite a few of the rhododendrons were already flowering.
There are a number of interesting architectural features. The shoemakers’ arbour is a stone arch decorated with ancient statues of the two patron saints of shoe making, and bearing the initials of the wardens of the shoemakers’ guild (sounds like a lot of cobblers to me!) There’s a bust of Percy Thrower, who was apparently Shrewsbury parks superintendent. And this is a statue of a nymph, Sabrina, associated with the river Severn…
They may have had a reputation for prudishness, but those Victorians did like their saucy statues…
Seeing pictures of the new RHS garden in various stages of construction, it was difficult to envisage how the garden would turn out. I couldn’t see how those restricted planting holes between the paths could support the necessary enveloping mass of foliage and flower that make a garden. From above, the emerging layout of the new Kitchen Garden (one of two new gardens within the original walls – the other is the Paradise Garden) looked rather like an airport, with a wide runway crossing diagonally. There was an awful lot of path.
RHS Bridgewater finally opened on the 18th May, after a long delay due to the on-going pandemic, and I was very excited to visit the gardens for the first time a few weeks ago.
Now that the plants are in, and filling out, the effect is less stark, but it still looks to me as though there’s too much path, and not enough planting. And the designs for the main formal parts of the garden are largely on one level. In the wider landscape, and around the lake, there is more height, with native woodland, and mature trees. And non-native trees have been incorporated into the planting in the Chinese streamside garden.
Close to the stream they are small – cloud-pruned pines and smaller varieties of Japanese maples. Further from the water there are larger trees, such as Davidia involucrata (hankerchief tree). But in the formal gardens, the trees are all both small – either by their nature, or by training – and isolated.
The designs for all three main areas are along the same lines – a geometric pattern of paths, interplanted with a mix of perennials and grasses, with regular, individual vertical highlights from clipped beech, and in the case of the kitchen garden, from metal structures.
RHS Bridgewater is unusual in this respect. Most gardens have combinations; groups of trees and shrubs of varying sizes, with vertical interest from the ground up to the top of tall trees. Shrubs and trees are allowed to grow naturally to the shapes and sizes they would achieve in the wild. RHS Bridgewater doesn’t appear to have that. Instinctively, it feels as though there’s something missing. Intellectually, you might consider it to be a good thing that the RHS are giving us something new; something different.
The formal gardens at RHS Bridgewater are a patchwork, populated by plants that are diverse, interesting and beautiful. But it feels somewhat two-dimensional – apart from the clipped beech, the metal structures and a small arrangement of pleached Parrotia (Persian ironwood), it’s all on the same level.
Beyond the formal gardens are large, open expanses of wildflower meadow leading up to woodland. Both add to the overall experience. They contrast with the formal planting, and it’s great to be able to stretch your legs through these more natural areas, after shuffling through the intensity of the formal gardens. But moving from the open, formal gardens, with most of the planting on one level, into native grasslands, one phrase kept repeating in my mind. PRAIRIE STYLE!!!
It is though. It’s very Piet Oudolf, albeit a segmented version of that style which, according to the horticultural press, is still very popular. Personally, I’ve never been that sure about it. For me, the style has too many grasses (though at Bridgewater, they’ve managed to reign that in). It’s too cold; too open. There’s no sense of mystery, no horticultural embrace; where’s the love? The trees and shrubs are too controlled, too isolated – they look lonely to me. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again now; the overall effect is of massed carpet bedding, but with perennials and grasses – carpet bedding on steroids.
Maybe it just takes time. Come back in a few years and it may all look very different. Despite the criticism, there are some great features. And if you’re not enamoured of the design style, it’s very easy to ignore that and lose yourself in the wonderful selection of plants on show. Plants such as this lovely Iris…
This variety appears in a few places, but I couldn’t see a label for it anywhere. Labelling is a work-in-progress I think – very good in some areas, non-existent in others. This, for instance, was very clearly labelled…
Such vivid blues are not always easy to come by, so this could prove useful. It’s a speedwell called Veronica ‘Shirley Blue’. The individual flowers are similar to those of the tiny ones of the speedwell you find in lawns (possibly my favourite wild/native flower) but a little bigger, and arranged around flower spikes.
Still on the blue theme, this one looked better in real life than the camera portrays it. This is Amsonia illustris (shining bluestar’), apparently good for well-drained soil in part shade…
The peonies were doing well when I visited. I didn’t find a label for this deep red one…
And while I might have preferred a different layout and design approach, I do think Tom Stuart-Smith has done a great job on the Paradise Garden. This is the lily pond (which will be better once the lilies have established) and rill, showing a great use of symmetry and combining curves and straight lines…
Towards the back of the Paradise Garden, where it becomes less formal, he’s used a small, shrubby tree called sea buckthorn (Hyppophae rhamnoides), once again arranged as isolated specimens. It has long, thin, silver-green leaves and lots of character, with twisty, gnarled trunks. They would look great in a Mediterranean style garden, and they look great here too. Olive trees are vulnerable to the dreaded xylella, and in any case, tend not to thrive (or even survive) in our cold, wet, windy climate, but sea buckthorn is as hardy as they come, apparently taking strong winds and even salt spray in its stride, so would make a superb alternative to olive.
They may be selling us short in the tree and shrub department, but the RHS have managed to pack a fantastic array of lower growing plants into the garden in such a short time. This is in the Paradise Garden…
This area is essentially a gravel garden. I love this low-growing, creeping thyme, which would make a fabulous alternative lawn, for an area you didn’t need to walk on much. You can see that here, the labelling has been done.
The glasshouses are looking impressive, with grape vines along the front and soft fruit against the back walls. They’re just a little bigger than my greenhouse…
There is still some work to be done at RHS Bridgewater…
But no cause for complaint – love the design style or not, the amount of work they’ve done, and what they’ve achieved, is phenomenal. The amount of time, money, and ingenuity that’s gone into the place is awe inspiring. The empty areas just add interest – I can’t wait to see what they do with them. I loved the contrast between two arrangements of pots; one at the front entrance, the other somewhat more tucked away…
In case you’re wondering, the cafe is great too – good food, not bad coffee, and a lovely terrace overlooking the new lake. But even after restrictions have been lifted, I suspect it will be busy – you may need to be flexible over what time you eat, if you want to avoid queuing for too long. There’s an extensive plant sales area which is more like one of the larger garden centres. The prices are not low, but plant prices have gone up noticeably in the last few years, probably down to rising costs of production. Having spent so long in the gardens, I took one look at the plant sales and decided I didn’t have enough time left to do it justice (I also know that I really don’t need any more plants at this time!) Sadly, it was time to leave.
So there you are; a brief introduction to a rather different garden. RHS Bridgewater is shiny and new in every respect, from the hard landscaping and the garden seating, to the welcome building. That newness felt different to the gardens I’m used to visiting in the UK; it reminded me of some gardens overseas – the Desert Botanic Gardens in Phoenix had the same freshness and energy.
I can’t imagine Bridgewater will ever be my favourite garden, but there is a lot to admire, and I suspect I will grow to love it in time. I’m sure it will be interesting watching it develop and mature.
Bodnant, for anyone who isn’t familiar with it, is a very large (80 acres) National Trust garden in North Wales, just south of Llandudno. It’s particularly renowned for its large collection of rhododendrons and camelias, which thrive in the acid soil there. The site is on a hillside, with some steep slopes, and picturesque dells. The entrance to the gardens, and the house (which is impressive, but privately owned, and not open to the public) is at the top of the hill. Winding gravel paths lead through dense planting, which at this time of year is very colourful…
I visited on the last day of April, and was surprised at just how many of the rhododendrons were already flowering…
Having always (until recently) gardened on neutral to alkaline soil, I’m still a little unsure of rhododendrons. Their colours are diverse and spectacular, intense, beautiful; but also a bit shocking and outrageous. Verging on the blousy, they can feel like something of a ‘guilty pleasure’. Another indicator of low ph (as well as damp, humus-rich soil), I spied this Himalayan poppy (Meconopsis x sheldonii) in the understorey…
Still close to the entrance is this beautifully ordered, green and calming parterre with a central fountain…
Still in the Himalayas, this attractive stand of Himalayan birch (Betula utilis, possibly ‘Jacquemontii’) caught my eye. This kind of arrangement has been very popular in garden design for some years…
And I just had to take a photo of this gentian. I had one of these in a pot for many years, though that was a late flowering variety. They have the most intense blue, large flowers – very striking indeed…
Another blue-flowered plant I’ve recently heard a bit about it Omphaloides. I’ve been considering its use as ground cover in moist, shady areas. It was recommended by one of the famous garden designers (I can’t remember which one). I have seen it before, and was unimpressed, but at Bodnant it’s clearly thriving and looks good. As a ‘semi-evergreen’ it should provide some cover over winter, especially in milder winters…
Moving down the hill, the formal gardens give way to a more open, grassy landscape. This avenue appeared even more inviting due to being roped off (presumably because the daffodils have finished)…
Bluebells were just coming out beneath this incredible old, gnarly beech tree. The house, complete with Victorian conservatory, can be seen at the top of the hill…
There must be miles of paths to be walked, and it’s easy to get lost. With all of the bright colours at this time of year its like an enchanted land…
The Pin Mill, with the reflecting pond in front, is perhaps the most famous image from Bodnant gardens. The end of the reflecting pond is one of those magic spots where you just can’t help taking a photograph, even though you know millions got there before you (and many made a much better job of it). This view mirrors the famous view of the Taj Mahal (though on a slightly less grand scale)…
And finally, another choice plant. Another one for the woodland floor, in damp shade, this is a trillium – Trillium erectum…
Some of you may have seen a recent short series documentary about Bodnant, and the on-going efforts to improve the gardens. I found it a bit disappointing. The narrative was a little disjointed, and perhaps somewhat flippant – trying to sensationalise the problems the team encountered. And I don’t think it did the gardens justice. But having seen Bodnant once more for myself, I could see how much work has been put in. There’s more to do, but it’s looking very good indeed.
The documentary highlighted the problems Bodnant has had attracting enough visitors, most likely due to the location, which might be very beautiful, but is also a bit out of the way (which is probably why it’s still beautiful!) The plan was, I believe, to update the gardens to give them the best chance of attracting more visitors. I already knew Bodnant was an amazing place. It’s in an incredible setting, with views towards Snowdonia national park, and the gardens themselves have always been fabulous. From my latest visit, I would say they match any of the larger gardens in the United Kingdom for their beauty, for their plant collections, and for their facilities. For anyone who, like me, loves plants and gardens, Bodnant is unmissable.
Wollerton Old Hall Garden, in Shropshire, is referred to in the David Austin rose catalogue as one of the most beautiful private gardens in the country. So beautiful in fact, that they decided to name a rose after it. When I discovered the garden was only seven miles from where I now live, I got very excited, and of course, had to visit at the earliest possible opportunity. That was back in October last year. I kept my review back, so I could bring it out to brighten the dark days of the lockdown. Now seems to be an appropriate time.
We visited on a cool, fairly dull day. It was well into Autumn, and some of the leaves were colouring up well. The late-flowering perennials, such as asters (most of which were probably in the newly created category of symphyotricum – thanks for that, botanists!) had taken over the floral responsibilities. They also have quite a range of salvias, which flower over a long period, and were still going strong…
Most of these are slightly tender, so may need some protection in a cold winter. Having them in well-drained soil, in a sunny, sheltered position, should normally be sufficient. The flower in the next picture is unfamiliar to me, and there wasn’t a label, so if anyone knows what it is, please let me know.
Unidentified, but striking – actually, I’m wondering if this isn’t a form of salvia…
Apparently the gardens were created in 1983, but look as if, like the house itself, they’ve been there for centuries. It isn’t clear from the website, but I suspect many of the solid features – walls, pillars and gateways – are original.
Doorway to autumn!
Beyond this doorway, a grass path curves around, adding (cliche alert) a sense of mystery…
There are lots of hydrangeas at Wollerton; particularly the paniculata types, which in my opinion are the best. This magnificent specimen is Hydrangea ‘Unique’ (except it isn’t, because I’ve seen it elsewhere!)…
Wollerton is arranged as a series of themed areas, or ‘garden rooms’. This one is called the hot garden…
There are some decidedly cool colours in there too; particularly the blue aster making its late season entrance among the fiery dahlias and cannas. And there are a few cheeky little blue salvias invading this jungle-like banana and dahlia combination…
This is salvia ‘Amistad’; a large, beautiful deep blue variety with almost black calyces. Salvias are pollinated in a particular way. Called the ‘staminal lever mechanism’, when an insect (say, a bee) enters the flower, they weigh down a trigger that causes the stamen to press down on their back and deposit some pollen, which they then transport on to any other flowers they visit. Except, some bees struggle to get all the way into the flower. So instead, they cheat; biting through the base of the flower to get to the nectar. Here’s one in action…
A peep at the old hall itself, hiding among the salvias…
This is the upper rill garden (not to be confused with the lower rill garden). The design makes full use of different levels, from the height of the standard trees, through the mid-level hydrangeas in large terracotta pots, right down to the rounded shapes of box at ground level. And all of it reflected back up through the surface of the water in the formal pond. The plants are set out like chess pieces facing each other…
Back in October the cafe was still open, albeit with social distancing measures, and masks to be worn when not sitting at your table. It’s an attractive interior space, and I seem to remember the staff were friendly, and the cakes were very good.
The plant sales were limited due to the pandemic (I hadn’t realised it can be transmitted to plants) but I couldn’t stop myself from buying a couple of salvias. Unfortunately they’d had a run on ‘Amistad’, so I picked up a couple of other varieties, including a vibrant red one called ‘Royal Bumble’ – one for my very own hot garden.
To have such a wonderful garden so close to where you live is a great privilege , and not one I intend to waste. I’m going to buy a season ticket, and visit often; I’m looking forward to watching the garden as it changes throughout the year.
Wollerton Old Hall Garden re-opens at the end of this week (Easter Friday).
