Plants to survive a heatwave

For some years now, gardening pundits have been telling us we may need to move towards Mediterranean climate plants in our UK gardens. But this summer has imbued that idea with a powerful sense of urgency.

How many of us haven’t lost plants during this summer’s heatwaves? The true cost will only be known next year, when we will see what comes back, and what doesn’t. The heat wasn’t quite so intense up here in Shropshire. But even here, there were days when it seemed as if we were in Australia, or Arizona. The experts like to tell us what plants are most likely to survive those conditions. But you can’t beat first hand experience on the ground.

Plants in pots will always need to be watered regularly, along with those that haven’t been in long enough to have put down a good root system. But this year, I’ve also had to water some established perennials and shrubs, else they might not have made it through. There were some surprises.

Moisture-loving perennials such as Ligularia and Rodgersia were never going to like the heat. Mine are in a bog garden, but the water level of the pond that feeds it fell so low the boggy area dried out.

Border phlox, unsurprisingly, also suffered, but despite looking very sad, they made it through without being watered. I was surprised that Echinacea and Rudbeckia, which are prairie plants, needed regular watering. The RHS claim Rudbeckia came through well for them (apparently it has deep roots). They also said Eupatorium (which has, I believe, been re-classified as Eutrochium) did well, though it flowered earlier. My Eupatorium only reached 60cm, flowered late, and needed regular watering. Perhaps the difference is in the soil (mine is thin, sandy, dusty soil which drains quickly). The established Helenium got through (I may have watered it once).

Rudbeckia fulgida var. sullivantii ‘Goldsturm’ – flowering after the drought (and regular watering)

I may have despaired at the sad state of so many of the plants, but there were successes. Echinops, despite being big, leafy plants, were barely affected (and we had seedlings coming up all over the garden too). Verbascum and Achillea proved to be resilient, as did Verbena bonariensis. Gaura (which is now officially known as Oenothera), continued its campaign to take over the garden. Sedum (now Hylotelephium), being succulents, were able to store enough water in their leaves to get through.

Salvia ‘Royal Bumble’

Salvias, which are Mediterranean plants, were mixed. The perennial blue Salvia guaranitica ‘Blue Ensign’ would have died if I hadn’t watered it regularly, and failed to flower. But shrubby Salvia ‘Royal Bumble’ was undaunted, and has produced masses of flower from June onwards. It’s also self-seeded all around the plant (which is nice).

Iris sibirica, which is supposed to like damp soil, came through as if this year was no different to any other. It flowers early – before the heat struck – but afterwards, the leaves continued unabated. In fact, it clumped up so well I’ve recently had to divide the plants.

Iris sibirica

And last, but not least, Symphyotrichum reliably produced their tall mounds of foliage in the background, and have now erupted into bloom. They are one of my favourite perennials. Aster Munch came through too, but only just.

Symphyotrichums produce a fantastic show of bright daisies when all around them is decay and autumn colours

When it comes to shrubs, Viburnum plicatum ‘Mariesii’ flowered beautifully early on, but by mid-summer was all but dead. Cornus kousa, and the purple hazels (Corylus maxima ‘Purpurea’) were hardly any better. Deciduous Berberis hardly put up a fight before their leaves shrivelled and fell (the sawflies that regularly strip them must have been very disappointed).

Viburnum plicatum f. tomentosum ‘Mariesii’ – flowering before the heatwaves

This Cotinus has been in for a few years now, and hasn’t grown much (perhaps it doesn’t like the soil) but it wasn’t affected by the lack of moisture, or the heat…

Cotinus coggygria – taking on autumn colour

Hydrangeas are renowned for needing a lot of moisture, so it was surprising that Hydrangea ‘Limelight’ got through unscathed, and without additional water. Although it does have some shade – only getting the sun from mid-afternoon.

Hydrangea paniculata ‘Limelight’ The flowers change colour and then stay on the plant over winter. This one has produced a couple of fresh flowers in October.

Predictably, Ceanothus ‘Puget Blue’ was at home in the conditions, flowering and growing on well. Roses don’t generally like it hot and dry. Mine muddled through quite well, though they did have a long break in flowering (all except ‘Munstead Wood’, which kept on producing blooms, albeit rather slowly).

Rosa ‘Munstead Wood’

To mis-quote the late Jimmy Grieves; it’s been a funny old year Saint. Too cold for too long in spring and early summer. Then too hot during summer. And too dry throughout. The plants haven’t known whether they’ve been coming or going. Those whose gardens are predominantly Mediterranean gravel gardens will be feeling pretty smug right now. But for those of us who like a more lush look, it’s been rather stressful. Who knows what next year will bring…

text & images © graham wright 2022

Datura – Part 2…

I said I’d post photos of the Daturas when the flowers were out. And here they are…

This is a clump of four self-sown seeds, from a plant that is supposedly tender. The clump is currently 65cm (just over 2′) tall, by 150cm (5′) across. The individual flowers are 15cm (6″) across…

Perhaps the most astonishing thing about these plants is that despite having germinated and grown in one of the hottest, driest periods this country has experienced, I’ve never once had to water them. Perennials and shrubs you would expect to be drought tolerant have been shrivelling up in our dry, dusty soil, and have needed to be watered regularly to keep them alive. But these Datura have grown from seeds to big, lush plants, apparently oblivious to the lack of water and temperatures that have at times been in the mid thirties.

I think I mentioned that the seed packet said Datura meteloides are half-hardy shrubs that need a minimum temperature of 5C in the winter. Further research suggests they are perennials. From what I’ve read, they can be treated like a Dahlia, so that’s what I plan to do. I’ll let them be cut back by frost, then dig up the roots and see what I’ve got. Hopefully they will have tubers that I can store over winter. If that doesn’t work, I’ll still have the ones in pots indoors and in the greenhouse. And I’ll collect some seed for next year too – there are seed pods forming…

If our summers continue to be this hot and dry, Datura could prove to be the perfect low maintenance annuals – simply scatter the seeds on a bare patch of ground and let them get on with it. Who would have thought exotics could be so easy!

text & images © graham wright 2022

Sacred Datura…

Or Datura meteloides; a tender plant which is very similar to the better known Brugmansia (commonly known as angels’ trumpets). I bought a packet of Datura seeds a few years ago. They germinated well, and growth was initially good, but all of the plants slowed down (I’ve kept some indoors, and others in an unheated greenhouse) and have never grown to more than about 20cm. But the flowers are spectacular. The buds elongate, and the petals emerge in a whorl…

The whorl opens to a star…

And then, finally you get to see the full trumpet…

The seed packet said that, like Brugmansia, Datura are woody plants – shrubs – but mine seem to die back in winter. Even the two I have indoors mostly died back. Some of last year’s growth survived the winter, but it clung onto life looking sickly and yellow, while new, healthy shoots from the base overtook it.

In researching this post, I discovered some very interesting facts about this plant, particularly here. I can confirm that the leaves are sticky, and do have a very strange smell about them. I wouldn’t call it unpleasant exactly. But whatever you do, don’t lick your fingers after touching it!

It’s a curious co-incidence that Datura meteloides has a synonym of Datura Wrightii, as Wright is my surname. I remember once seeing a cactus (an unpromising, ground-crawling thing) with the name Wrightii, so I guess there must have been a plant collector in that part of the world (North/Central America) who shared my surname.

Apparently D. meteloides (or D. Wrightii) is native to Arizona. Which explains another phenomenon. Some of my plants produced impressive, spiky seed capsules, similar to a conker, which burst open to reveal lovely big, round, black seeds. I must have dropped some in one of the beds, because earlier this summer, seedlings started to appear. They had long seed leaves (which threw me, as the seeds were round) and I couldn’t initially identify them. Worried they might be from a mutant perennial sunflower we made the mistake of planting two years ago, and now can’t get rid of, I pulled the first few out. When more came up I decided to take a chance and see what they turned into. And here they are…

In the eight days since taking this photo they’ve doubled in size, and numerous flower buds are forming. They’ve grown through two heatwaves, in full sun for much of the day, remaining lush and healthy, despite my never having given them a single drop of water. Apparently having evolved in the Arizona desert, I suppose our little hot spells are nothing out of the ordinary for them. But looking ahead to increasingly hot, dry summers here in the UK (more about that next time), these plants could be the ultimate easy to grow, maintenance-free summer bedding – throw the seeds on the ground and watch your beds fill with the most amazing, tropical-looking foliage and flowers. Then again, they could just be the next Himalayan Balsam. Oh my god – what have I done?!

When the flowers are out, I’ll post another photo. This could be amazing!

Text & images © graham wright 2022

Another Spring Drought…

For the past few years I’ve written about a prolonged drought at spring – a time when you wouldn’t necessarily expect it. I wondered whether it was just in the Vale of Glamorgan, where I was living until last December. But now I’m in Shropshire, and this year’s drought is like nothing I can remember. Grass is going brown. The 250 litre water butt we installed a few months ago has long since been emptied. And the pond is becoming little more than a muddy puddle…

The alpine flowers look pretty reflected in the water, even if the surface is a bit messy. We inherited the pond, the bridge and an artificial hill with an imitation mountain stream waterfall. Not really our style, but I have to admit that at this time of year the alpine flowers look wonderful…

The darker blue flowers are Lithodora ‘Heavenly Blue’, but beyond that, and the heathers, I’m not sure – alpines are not plants I’ve ever taken much interest in. I suspect there are some alpine phlox in there. They don’t seem to mind the dry weather.

We haven’t had any significant rain for many weeks. Added to that, it’s been mostly sunny, and there’s been a strong, desiccating wind (my OED says ‘desiccative’, but WordPress isn’t so fussy). Not the greatest conditions in which to be creating a new garden. I’ve been moving turf around to set out the beds and the grassy areas, but struggling to stop them drying up altogether. Watering has been a major job, particularly as most of the plants we brought with us are still in pots.

I’m ashamed to say I’ve lost a few, including a small cutting of a fig, some phlox (the border type, rather than alpine varieties), and a yellow bottlebrush/wattle called Melaleuca squarrosa, which was one of a few grown from seed brought back from Australia). The one we planted in our last garden was around seven feet tall by the time we left, but we don’t have any left now. Maybe that’s an excuse to go and buy some more seeds, if ever we’re allowed to travel again.

The plants we bought from Burncoose nursery are all in now, and seem to be hanging on, with regular watering. The buds of the two upright beech trees are swelling and elongating, and I’m looking forward to them opening. The six fruit trees in our mini orchard have been in for longer and are also doing okay. This is Malus (apple!) ‘James Grieve’…

In the raised bed at the end (which will eventually be moved later on in the implementation of my garden plan) we’ve already harvested some of the rhubarb, and the reset strawberry plants are beginning to flower among the rubble…

I’ve been cavalier in moving rhododendrons that were in the way, but they’re coming out now, and I have to admit they are impressive. I may try harder to accommodate them under, and among the structural trees and shrubs in the design. The rich red will really shine out from the understorey. I’m almost excited to see what colours some of the others will be. I hope they survive, though some will need to be moved again, once they’ve finished flowering, and our thin soil is going to need some significant bulking up with organic material if they are to really thrive.

I was initially delighted to discover we had soil that is so easy to work. But in the last few weeks, with the continuing dry, sunny, windy conditions, I’ve seen just how thin it is. The tractors working in the field have raised dust storms, and as I clear more areas of grass and weeds I’ve taken to covering the exposed soil, for fear it will all blow away. It really is a bit like the mid-west here. All we need is some tumble weed. On the plus side, I am looking forward to growing a range of different plants from those I’ve been used to. Echinacea, for instance, and heleniums, which typically didn’t last the winter in the heavy clay of our last garden. Broom seems to do very well here – we have three large plants in the garden, and they are all full of flower, giving off a distinctive, heady aroma. Who needs Chanel?

And the magnolia is finally in full flower. I’m not sure of the variety. Despite having plenty of flowers, it’s something of a disappointment. Magnolia flowers can be damaged by frost; normally it’s the ones that flower early that suffer most. Despite flowering late, many of the flowers on our magnolia are frost damaged, with brown, rotten patches. Those flowers that aren’t affected look good though.

Here’s the full picture…

Actually, it doesn’t look to bad from a distance. It needs some structural pruning to improve the shape. The stems are crossing and congested. There’s another job waiting to be done. I’ll let it finish flowering first.

text & images © graham wright

Is it autumn already?

With leaves changing colour all around us there’s no chance of pretending autumn isn’t on its way. All we can do is to embrace the season and enjoy the show. What’s your favourite plant for autumn colour?

Parthenossisus cinquefolia (Virginia Creeper) is early to colour up.

It’s been an unusual growing year. It began with an apparently very early spring, which turned out not to be spring at all; just a mild spell in winter. The cold and the snow that followed was harsher than anyone would have expected and the winter, far from ending early, dragged on.
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No Spring Drought This Year


Marigolds, like miniature suns, have kept going right through the winter.

March last year was a good month, from a work perspective. By mid-month I was pretty much up to my full working schedule. How different it is this year. I cut a few lawns, and then wet weather set in. Lawns are now too wet to cut (or even to walk on),  and the ground is too saturated to work. At least there have been a few sunny spells today, between the showers. Over the past week or so the weather has been miserable.
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