Rain does well…

Phormium tenax flowers, Tostat, June 2018

This Phormium, now pretty big at more than 1.5m wide and high, came with us from Scotland fourteen years ago, and has never flowered before.  There was a point to all that rain we had.  That is the only reason I can think of for it suddenly springing to life in this way.  The flowers are really attractive, like big comma-shapes reaching for the sky.  The spikes have arranged to meet each other, in a very companionable way, which looks spectacular against the wide sky.

From a distance and against the early morning sky, Tostat, June 2018

Forget the roses this year- largely beaten and drowned by rain and storm.  But other things have loved the strange weather.  I loved the look of Centaurea cyanus ‘Black Ball’ in May, despite the soaking conditions.  I grew these from seed last autumn, and was pretty doubtful about their weediness when I planted them out in March.  But I have eaten my hat.  These plants have adored the weather and have flowered non-stop since late April.

Centaurea cyanus ‘Black Ball’ with Ozothamnus ‘Silver Jubilee’, Tostat, May 2018

Here they are today, just caught by the early sun, which has turned them more of a cherry-red colour.  What a bargain for a packet of seed and they may have flopped a bit but have largely held their own.

‘Black Ball’ today, Tostat, June 2018

Kniphofia ‘Timothy’ has had a rather vagrant existence in the garden.  Never quite settling and several moves later, I split all the clumps and had another go at finding them a home.  They have adored the rain, and are in great shape, even flowering much earlier than usual, and also flowering well.  It’s a bit of a mystery to me why they are so moody here, as it seems to me we should get on really well.  Maybe they want to stay put, and I should let them.

Kniphofia ‘Timothy’ pairing up nicely with Cornus kousa, Tostat, June 2018

In the stumpery, where the ferns and shade-lovers have likewise enjoyed the wet, but now are longing for some warmth I think, a fairly new introduction of Mahonia is looking splendid.  With an impossibly long name, Mahonia eurybracteata subsp.ganpinenesis ‘Soft Caress’ is totally different from almost every other Mahonia.  The clue is in the name.  No spikey bits or prickles, just soft green foliage draped beautifully around a central stem.  Mine is about 2 years old, so only a baby really, but I adore the gentle effect it creates amongst the ferns and, yes, a touch of bindweed grows at the back.  ‘Soft Caress’ hasn’t flowered yet, maybe next year.

Mahonia eurybracteata subsp.ganpinensis ‘Soft Caress’, Tostat, June 2018

In the re-vamped and re-planted dry areas, I planted a new groundcover perennial this Spring, Ononis spinosa.  Looked a bit dull at the outset in February, and, coming back from Spain 2 weeks ago, it had been totally submerged in triffid-like weed growth, which I swear wasn’t even visible before we left.  So, post-hacking, the plants have re-emerged and I am really pleased with them so far. I say that because their real strength should show through in dry conditions rather than what we have had.  Nevertheless, sprawling nicely to form a loose clump about 0.80cms all round, and currently flowering with small pink pea-flowers, they look promising.  More on them later in the summer.

Ononis spinosa, Tostat, June 2018

Two plant companions that have not enjoyed the two dry springs we have had, have been very happy with life in Tostat this year.  I always rave about Telekia speciosa.  Tall, stately, custard-yellow daisies that last for ages in the garden, with huge vivid green leaves at their feet- it is a great plant, and easy from seed.  Hydrangea arborescens ‘Annabelle’ was one of my bargain-basement purchases years ago, and is now a striking 2m high and across- and in very fine fettle.  I love cream and green.

Rain scores well for plants- if not humans.

Telekia speciosa and Hydrangea arborescens ‘Annabelle’, Tostat, June 2018

Burnout…or not quite

Looking again…Yucca with Bupleurum fruticosum, Miscanthus strictus, looking across to Hydrangea Annabelle, Tostat, July 2017

The last two weeks of June were a flurry of gardens, visiting friends and reprogramming my eyes to a different kind of English luxuriousness and verdant views.  More of all of this in time.  But coming back home on Saturday evening to 11C and pelting rain, we lit the woodburner to warm ourselves and our frozen housesitters.  Venturing out early on Sunday morning, with eyes still working to English levels of greenness,  I was aghast.  The garden looked as if it had had a blowtorch taken to it.  More than a week of temperatures in the high 30Cs and not a drop of rain, not to mention hot winds had really taken its toll, despite the care and attention of the housesitters.

But.  As my eyes adjusted back to my own garden, I actually had a lot of cause for celebration which I came to see as I went round looking in detail.  First of all, not much had actually died.  I may have lost one Rhamnus frangula ‘Fine Line’, but the other one is recovering even now, and so maybe it will too.  Burnt edges could be seen everywhere, but not much actual death.  And, this early July period is a bit of a ‘Potter’s Wheel’.  It’s always the time where the earlier summer flowering has gone over and the mid to late summer plants haven’t yet hit their stride, and really I should know this by now.

So major redesign panic over.   And a few days later, with sight fully restored to normal settings, I was able to appreciate the plants that had persevered and come through.  And there were one or two real surprises in the mix.  For example, new to me this year, was Kalimeris incisa ‘Madiva’– and it has proved a real stalwart.  In a new area, which I suspect does actually have some spring activity deep down, it is blooming really well, along with clumps of my cheap-as-chips Liatris spicata and a new annual purple millet that I grew from seed, Pennistum glaucum ‘Purple Baron’.  The Kalimeris is a 0.75cms high neat clump of bright green foliage, with mauve flowers fading to white, and is very pretty.  Let’s see what happens with spread and seeding, but it looks like a really good doer to me.

Kalimeris incisa ‘Madiva’, Liatris spicata and Pennisetum glaucum ‘Purple Baron’, Tostat, July 2017

Kalimeris incisa ‘Madiva’, Tostat, July 2017

The next morning, in the dappled sunshine early on in a part of the border by the wall that is a right mess- project for early 2018, even though my teeth were slightly setting at the disarray, a timid Southern White butterfly was enjoying Echinacea ‘White Swan’.  It seemed really good to be home.

Southern White Admiral butterfly enjoying Echinacea ‘White Swan’, Tostat, July 2017

Sometimes you need new eyes…

Sometimes you need to go away and come back again, to see the garden in a different way. Having had a day away in the Valle d’Aran just over into Spain, coming back yesterday afternoon and evening was almost a re-discovery.  It was partly thanks to the soft light of late evening, which gave a kindly glow to plants that are suffering, again, owing to drought since our last rain, but it was also that I realised I often look at the garden from the same vantage points, and so, I see the same things.  If you couple this with my usual micro-vision tendencies, where I examine the individual performance of a particular plant- it’s a wonder I am not totally blind really.

So, this is what I noticed yesterday evening, as if for the first time.

Looking towards the olive tree from the back door, Tostat, July 2016

The light really caught it.  Begonia grandis subsp. evansiana ‘Claret Jug’ shines out from the image with the ruby-red leaf backing picking up the light.  It is such an easy plant.  Although often described as hardy, I wouldn’t risk it even in our often mild, wet winters.  I grow it in a massive pot, partly filled with polystyrene chips to reduce the weight, and I just lug it into a covered, but open space in November, keep it pretty dry, and then start watering in March under cover.  I drag it out in April and the rest is all done without my help, though I do a weekly feed from about May onwards.  I am not really a begonia flower person, so the pink flowers are not my thing, but they are small and the leaves are the main act.  Tons of tiny bulbils get scattered and so you will have this plant forever, and keep your friends supplied if you just pot them up in the autumn.

Being Gothic, Verbena bonariensis and an arch, Tostat, July 2016

I have often raved about Verbena bonariensis.  I love it for it’s attractiveness to butterflies and other insects, for it’s abundant self-seeding (which can also be a pain), but mostly for the electric quality of the flowers.  In low light, it’s as if it’s wired to the mains.

A new view, Tostat, July 2016

This is a new view.  I am looking back towards the back of the house, across the top of my only-planted-this-year-from-seed-grown-last-year area.  This area has toiled a bit in it’s first year, finding the spring very cold, the summer very dry and the wind very debilitating.  But, I think it will make it, although this year will be a bit of a damp squib. These Liatris spicata bulbs, bought from Aldi for 60 bulbs at E3, a total bargain, have done a great job in providing some points of punctuation where flowering, as I hoped, has not quite materialised.  I don’t find Liatris a reliable returner year on year, I probably lose about 50% of them over a wet winter, but, they are so cheap and dependable, that I am still a great fan.  In the US, where they are native plants, they are often called ‘Blazing Star’- you can see why, something of the electric about them too.

Slightly new view, Tostat, July 2016

This is a new view as far as the further away view is concerned.  In the foreground, is a reliable and terrific Pennisetum alopecuroides which I bought ages ago, put in the wrong place, replanted and now it adores where it is.  Slightly flattened by dryness, it is a gentle punctuation point at the end of the promontory bed.  It may be the variety, ‘Hameln’ but I can’t remember after all this time.  ‘Hameln’ is supposed to be the hardiest of the varieties and so it may well be that.   The thing with Pennisetum is that nothing seems to be happening in the growth department until really late in Spring, then up it pops, so it’s important not to poke it and panic.  The other main new-this-year-area is encircling the olive tree, and I have planted, though you can’t see it, another Pennisetum, Pennisetum alopecuroides f. viridescens.  I couldn’t resist the idea of dark-charcoal-purple-black flowerheads meeting, almost head-on in a Pennsietum-off, the older Pennisetum you see above in the photograph.

A new view, Tostat, July 2016

This is a new view to me.  The foreground is of the new area encircling the olive, this year planted with, a great success in our dry summer, Cosmos bipinnatus ‘Xanthos’ has been sterling.  It might even win me over to annuals.  But the real feature of the view is the borrowed landscape.  It is the dark green of the ornamental cherry tree, actually growing in a commune space, over our wall, which brings the Stipa gigantea to life.  Without it as a backdrop, you would hardly see the delicate, golden flowerheads of the Stipa.  Thank you, Tostat.

The one that nearly got away, Tostat, July 2016

And this is a view that I nearly rejected.  Then I thought, ‘hang on, it’s different’ and so it stays.  Looking back across the grass towards the old privvy door, what you actually see is how comfortable the Hydrangea arboresecens ‘Annabelle’ is with its’ big, creamy flowers still looking good against the big leaves of Telekia speciosa.  And further along to the left, you can imagine though not quite see, the now-pinky flowerheads of Hydrangea paniculata filling in the space.

So dry and thirsty, but not yet down and out.  By contrast, the Valle d’Aran looked bewitchingly green.

Near Vielha, Spain, July 2016

 

 

 

 

Wind, wind, wind

Windy June: Clematis viticella and Hydrangea arborescens ‘Annabelle’, Tostat, June 2016

This has been a windy month like no other.  Positively Scottish amounts of wind, with little warmth, have torn across the garden most days this month, scorching the soil and ripping at the plants.

This Clematis viticella, whose name I have forgotten, is a very forgiving plant that comes back and back.  I had hoped to be able to grow clematis when we moved here, but a few deaths quickly taught me that we did not possess the best conditions for most clematis, and I was about to give up.   Talking to Thorncroft Clematis at Chelsea one year, persuaded me to have a try with this Clematis viticella and Clematis texenis ‘Princess Diana’.  I grow them them both tucked into a forest of woodland shrubs and early spring perennials, and I mostly forget to cut them back as they are way down in the undergrowth, but each early summer, they pop up again growing through and over the shrubs.  I love the dark blue against the creamy white of the ‘Annabelle’.

Hydrangea macrophylla and Nerium oleander, Tostat, June 2016

I can claim no credit for this combination which stayed still for the camera and was here when we moved in.  The last couple of years, this hydrangea, has got bluer and bluer.  Maybe it’s the early summer rain that we have been experiencing more and more, but the Nerium oleander is obviously enjoying the conditions too, despite being a highly drought tolerant plant.  We did, however, paint the shutters!

Rosa ‘Kiftsgate’, Tostat, June 2016

Close up of ‘Kiftsgate’, Tostat, June 2016

This is a giant of a rose and a serious thug, Rosa ‘Kiftsgate’.  But it has done a great screening job for us on the wall bordering the road, and it has hung on for grim death in seriously high winds, looking pretty unbattered and just losing its scent when the temperature drops.  I love it for its abundance, hanging in great swags of flowers with golden stamens from 3m above the ground.  You need body armour to deal with it, so probably best grown only where you will never need to interfere with it.  And, of course, it only flowers once in June, but it is a fabulous sight when it does.

Windy June: Testing the purple Verbena bonariensis to the max, Tostat, June 2016

Verbena bonariensis is a really tough customer, but even it has been decked by the wind this year.  I once had it in a ‘proper’ place in the garden, but it moved out as soon as it could and did, actually, what it does best, working as a fringe to the other bits of the garden that are dry and hot. I adore it for this haze of colour and light, dancing habit.  But it is a scratcher of bare legs, be warned!  Another plant that made its mind up to go its own way, is Hakonechloa macra ‘Aureola’, the spreading low grass that you can see in the photograph.  This came from a tall pot in Scotland with us, and I stuck it in here without really thinking.  It now thoroughly enjoys life in the blazing sun, in one of our driest spots, and, in other words, completely confounds much conventional wisdom about it preferring moisture and dappled shade.  Just goes to show- it’s always worth trying, though best off with an insurance policy plant in hand.

Windy June: battered lilies and the last roses, Tostat, June 2016

From the back door the other night, with towels laid like sandbags against the door, we watched a tempest roar through, culminating in M&M sized hail which lay like lots of tiny eggs in all the plant pots giving them a horrible cold surprise.  So, the lilies are not in the best shape, all more Hunchback of Notre Dame than lily, but we do have green in general, and plenty of it.

One plant, which is new to me this year, is Hydrangea macrophylla ‘Black Steel Zebra’. I bought it from one of the newer online nurseries, Promesse de fleurs, and I adore it. I have to say that it arrived a bit bashed up, but I am hoping for good things from the cuttings that gave me, so am not complaining.  It has dark, dark, almost black stems, and is topped by dramatic flowers, creamy-green-yellow, which open out to a double-cream, Devon tea, kind of colour.  In a pot for now, and should make a metre high and wide by next year, it is beguiling.  Here it is.

In the dark of a storm: Hydrangea macrophylla ‘Black Steel Zebra’, Tostat, June 2016

 

 

A retro-feel to the garden today…

Day 2 of the Bac exams for my son, who has been labouring away with revision for what seems like ages, so not much time today what with fetching and carrying, cooking a lunch (well!) and generally doing domestic backup. But, in the garden this morning with my Ipad, and the combinations of bright sunshine and probably lesser photographic quality- not that I’m Lord Snowden you understand- seemed to me to bring a retro-feel to the images, bit 60s tablecloth.  I rather liked it.

Helenium ‘Sahin’s Early Flowerer’, Tostat, June 2015

Hydrangea arborescens ‘Annabelle’ and Clematis texensis ‘Princess Diana’, Tostat, June 2015

Unknown pink Pennisetum, Tostat, June 2015

Stipa gigantea against the Phormium, and the washing line!, Tostat, June 2015

Echinacea purpurea ‘White Swan’, Tostat, June 2015

and I don’t know what the strange onion-y thing is, below, but I am fond of it- comes up, looks a bit alien, and does no harm, and then goes away.