York Gate Garden in June…

York Gate Garden, the classic view, Leeds, June 2023

This is the classic view of one of the best gardens in the UK, in my humble opinion. York Gate was the garden made by a couple, Frederick and Phyllis Spencer and their son, Robin, over a period of 45 years. They created one of the most useful gardens to visit for people who don’t own estates in the Home Counties. The garden is a wonderful collection of plants, environments and sensory delights, all contained within a series of small garden scenes, all of which give bucketloads of inspiration and pleasure to small garden gardeners. Now run by the charity, Perennial, it is so worth a visit.

Here are some of my favourite views of the garden. I have to admit that, as I now garden in more straitened circumstances, I am often drawn to the damper, shadier and less well trodden parts of any garden that I visit. York Gate does not disappoint in that department.

The thoughtful and simple stone paving matches the great planting, York Gate, Leeds, June 2023

Dominated by a large and luxurious tree fern and framed by a beech hedge, here is a view down some beautifully constructed gentle steps that take you down to a quiet part of the garden, it is a secret journey all of it’s own.

Still in the damp, shady area, York Gate, Leeds June 2023

Looking the other way from the tree ferns, the undercover planting is lush and uninterrupted. The gardening of this part of the garden betrays no human footprint, it is as if this has always been here.

York Gate, Leeds, June 2023

Looking out from a handcrafted arbour, through masses of Aruncus dioicus and shaped trees, the eye picks out a perfectly positioned ornamental water hydrant, painted white. The Spencers were inveterate collectors of objects, stones, cobbles, wood that they would repurpose in their own garden, always combining craftmanship with sensitive placing.

Just one of many herbaceous plantings, York Gate, Leeds, June 2023

And there is more….deep herbaceous borders excitingly planted with vivid colours and mixes of plants. These alliums would have contributed more vibrant colour when in flower, but the dried flowerheads also bring drama and skeletal structure to the billowing perennials. I can’t grow Astrantia well, what a delight to see so many good varieties in use.

Alliums still working hard, York Gate, Leeds, June 2023

I adored Sarah Price’s garden at the Chelsea Flower Show, albeit only via the television. I am a serious plant crammer, always stuffing something else in where I can. Listening to her interview, she was explaining one of her key design elements- giving the Benton irises in her garden space to be seen and to be appreciated. With a remarkable and beautiful collection of irises in the most gorgeous shades, she has a real point. She also used some stately Aeoniums and some spikey succulents- I have always been wary of succulents, but she won me over completely. I need to make space for some.

Below, in York Gate, another area, on a dry sloping border, is set aside for their collection of succulents, all of which are overwintered in the glass house for protection. And here is an almost ‘Sarah Price’ moment, with the Aeonium ‘Zwartzkopf’ in the foreground with the iris foliage, and a stunning collection of Cephealocereus senilis holding the scene. Somewhat unkindly called ‘The Old Man Cactus’, I have been ignorant of it’s charms. No more.

Succulent area, York Gate, Leeds, June 2023

Meantime back in another herbaceous border, one of my absolute favourite plants, which I have lost more times than I dare confess, Rudbeckia ‘Green Wizard’. It is such a drama queen, tall, spectacular and the gold ring of ripening stamens moves down that flowerspike as the flower matures- pretty fabulous. This photo is for Elizabeth, another Rudbeckia nut.

Rudbeckia ‘Green Wizard’, York Gate, Leeds, 2023

Also, another favourite, the fantastic Martagon lily rummaging in the understorey, bringing a flash of orange to the greenery.

Martagon lily, York Gate, Leeds, June 2023

And then, in the newly planted sand garden at the front of York Gate, there was another bizarre but also strangely charming small plant that I had never seen before. I sent this photograph to York Gate and asked them to identify it for me. Within hours, I had a reply email from Jack Ogg, Head Gardener, telling me that it is Nemesia ‘Masquerade’– what brilliant service for a very small request.

Nemesia ‘Masquerade’ in the newly planted Sand Garden, York Gate, Leeds, June 2023

I went to York Gate without my camera, which I had walked past half a dozen times on leaving our good friends in Peebles. The camera stayed on the table in Peebles, and I went to Leeds. But I think that my Fairphone has not done a bad job at all. Thanks to Elizabeth, I have my camera back!

And lastly, the past 2 weeks have been a technological nightmare, as my WordPress account resolutely locked me out, for what reason I do not know. But, all of a sudden, normal service has been resumed. I was furiously considering shutting up shop on WordPress and moving to Blogger, but, in the cool light of day, my pique has subsided, and so, dear reader, I am staying put with WordPress. It was a ‘cutting off the nose to spite the face’ moment, which has passed. Phew.

Come rain, come shine…

End of the evening with Stipa tenuissima, Oenethora speciosa shutting up shop, and the last of Cerinthe major ‘Kiwi Blue’ in the distance, Tostat, May 2017

This May has been a bit of a rollercoaster, and in these moments, it is hard not to become totally obsessed with the weather forecast, and then what actually happens- usually not at all as predicted.  In summary, the dry soil sun-lovers have really enjoyed themselves and other things have not, some of which have hung on in there and one or two may have bitten the dust.  This is because I don’t water.  To be precise, I do spot-water things in extremis in their first year, but after that, I don’t.  Stubborn or what, you might well say.  But I am trying to finetune the selection and growing of plants that can live here unaided, and now that there is so much variability in the weather at any time of the year, it makes you feel a bit like William Tell trying to skewer that apple with both legs bound, and from a moving platform.

One of the plants that may have crashed and burnt is one of two Rhamnus frangula ‘Fine Line’.  Interestingly, the one that is in the ER wagon is the one in the slightly less hot spot. I so wanted to grow this plant, having chosen it years ago as part of a planting design for my diploma course- and it was the devil of a job to find it here in France.  So I was mightily pleased when I found not one but two plants last year, and planted them in the early Spring.  It is a delicate, airy columnar shrub, which is pretty undemanding and is reputed to cope with almost any conditions, especially frost.  So, I will have to see if it will perk up from the bottom or find a way of making a comeback.   Meantime, some gentle watering on occasion as it is in the ER wagon.

Verbascum bombyciferum, where it put itself, Tostat May 2017

Some delights have also turned up. That is not to say that Verbascum bombyciferum is entirely a delight as it can plonk itself slapbang where you don’t want it, and then you have to keep beheading it as it is impossible to get out, with a giant root system that practically goes to Australia.  But it is a mighty and impressive beast when it lands where you might not know that you want it, but you discover that you always did!  With us, the first year is quite a small affair, and then, aged 1-2, the giant seems to leap fully formed out of the ground in front of your eyes.  Felted, hairy and covered in custard-yellow small flowers, it is a one-stop insect feeding station.  It keeps the form and stature right through winter until, totally dried out, it keels over and you are tempted to shout ‘Timber’.

Assorted foxgloves in dampish soil and sun, Tostat, May 2017

Curiously, it has also been a great year for foxgloves- all self-sown and obviously selecting the parts of the garden where they stand a chance.  That is one of the lovely things about not being too rigid about what goes on where, I love being surprised by what pops up and, also, flip side of the coin, by what doesn’t pop up.  Some years, the foxgloves don’t make much of an appearance- but they always return in the end.

Euphorbia sikkimensis, Tostat, May 2017

Now here is a survivor.  Grown from seed and fairly weedy for a couple of years, this is the year where it has broken through youth to become a real plant of substance.  I think it’s Euphorbia sikkimensis anyway.  It’s at least 5 years ago that I grew it from seed and it wasn’t a happy sowing, as not much came up, and I lost the tag.  This plant is the only survivor of three.  But it really is worth it.  It is going to make a handsome 1m tall and wide plant, with these electric yellow flower bracts that form on the top of each stem.  Unlike some, it is not a thug, in fact, I would put it in the ‘shy and retiring’ category.  It flowers much later than the rest- sometimes as late as the end of June, and it is willing to cope with the driest, sunniest spot in the garden without any visible complaint.

Evening sun and handling no rain pretty well, Tostat, May 2017

Clematis viticella, Aruncus dioicus and the foliage of Paeonia lutea var.ludlowii, Tostat, May 2017

Yes…yes…yes…

Aristea major, Tostat, May 2017

I am, almost, as excited as Meg Ryan in that famous scene….My Aristea major has flowered for the very first time, after 8 years of patience and minor cursing.  It is a very proud moment, slightly spoiled by Andy’s response of ‘Oh yes’, which didn’t pass muster as a response in my book.  The clear gentian-blue has to be seen to be believed, and on a cooler, cloudier morning, the flower spike has taken several hours to slowly open up, one flower at a time.  In fact, probably tomorrow, I will be able to see every single flower on the spike in action, which will be quite something.  The spike itself is quite a thing, easily over 1m long and tall, and stands up like a soldier on parade. No flopping going on at all.

The other profile, at the risk of boring you, Aristea major, Tostat, May 2017

And frankly, from whichever side you look at it, it is a glorious thing, I may be circling it for quite some time!  I first came across this as I follow ‘Annie’s Annuals’ a fantastic nursery in Richmond, California, which I actually visited when we were there in 2010- terrible business visiting a fabulous nursery and being forced to come away empty-handed.  But I did buy seed and gave it a go- and here we are, eight years later.

Detail, Aristea major, Tostat, May 2017

Aruncus dioicus, Tostat, May 2017

And another plant that is really enjoying life is Aruncus dioicus which is jammed into the woodland type border next to the ruisseau.  Actually, you can’t see it very well, something that ought to be remedied, as this photograph was taken through the undergrowth.  Back in Scotland, I grew Aruncus dioicus ‘Kneiffii’ which is the small cousin of the bigger plant that I have. They are greatly underrated really.  Trouble-free, just give them moist, semi-shady conditions and don’t poke them, and they will slowly become a wafting, cream- coloured, ribbony-flowered plant making a really good statement in the garden.  In fact, they are so trouble-free that I had forgotten that I had it, until I saw the flowers through the rest of the planting.  This Aruncus gets to about 1.5m high and wide, the smaller ‘Kneiffii’ to only about a metre or so- and slowly.

Gaillardia x grandiflora ‘Mesa Yellow’, Tostat, May 2017

Essentially though, we are in deep drought in the garden still, with no rain forecast for the next 10 days or so at the moment.  But two years ago, I grew this lovely little Gaillardia x grandiflora ‘Mesa Yellow’ from seed- with a poorish success rate, only 3 plants made it through.  But those 3 are utterly unfazed by the heat and the drought.  It makes a small, neat plant, with multiple branching flower stems from the central rosette of flattish leaves, and it is a very jolly, cheerful yellow that works really well with the baby Stipas around it.  And now in its second year, it is really digging in and growing well.  Gaillardia are especially suited to dry, hot conditions, and this has been well tested this year.  Good job.