The magic of research… and chance…

Agave americana, Tostat, July 2018

I probably spend more time looking at and researching plants than I do buying them, planting, propagating them or gardening with them- if I am honest. I was reminded of this on reading the latest instalment of Dan Pearson’s blog about creating his new sand garden at his home. Some gardeners who write have a very florid style, maybe in my own small way I do! But Dan Pearson is a thoughtful, honest and very straightforward blog writer, whose intention, it seems to me, is to convey the whole truth about the way that he gardens and why. I love the calmness of it, and the acceptance that knowledge is no guarantee of perfection. Once a plant is taken into our world, we can’t know exactly how it will react or behave. We take knowlege on trust, but there is always chance- and risk, not neccessarily in balance either.

But it is still worth developing knowledge and learning from experience and the stories of other gardeners. Very much so. What helps me is watching what happens and deciding if intervention is needed – or not. Sometimes time is all that’s needed. Take my Agave americana in the front garden, on the stony, garrigue-inspired slope. It is a baby of my original Agave in Tostat, given by a friend in the Languedoc. So, I planted it only 3 years ago, and already it is more than 1.5m tall and wide, with several offspring plants nestling nearby. It clearly likes it. I have done nothing except watch and wait.

Daughter Agave and daughters, Oloron Sainte Marie, November 2023

It’s the same story with my groundcover planting of Achillea crithmifolia. Three years ago, planting out my still baby Koelreuteria paniculata ‘Coral Sun’ and not far away, a new baby Rosa x odorata ‘Mutabilis’, I wanted to protect them from the miles of marauding bramble and bindweed that we were attacking with vigour. Reading about the use of allelopathic plants, those that secrete substances that deter other competing plants, I picked Achillea crithmifolia as low growing, aromatic, feathery foliage plant that does brilliantly in tough conditions. I had tried it out in Tostat in a limited area,a nd had been impressed, as well as liking the Achillea as a plant in its own right. I think I started off with eight plants in a ring round the rose and the tree. Three years later, you can see how well it has gently carpetted the area, giving the tree and the rose room to grow.

Achillea crithmifolia, Oloron Sainte Marie, November 2023

It also has spread considerably, which I am really enjoying, though that might be a drawback to consider if you have limited space. The Achillea doesn’t seem to bother the lovely floppy velvety leaves of Stachys byzantina ‘Big Ears’ either. It is not widely available in the UK, but is really worth a try. Dan Pearson is doing the same with it in his new garden, see the blog article above.

Stachys byzantina ‘Big Ears’ and Achillea crithmifolia cohabiting nicely, Oloron Sainte Marie, November 2023

Some plants love where they have been planted so miuch that they really go mad. This would be true of what I bought as a charming, small leaved Phlomis, Phlomis lanata ‘Pygmy’. The clue was in the name, I thought, and so it was for the first 2 years, a very sweet little hummock of Phlomis. It is still very sweet, but is breaking the 1m barrier in every direction and shows no sign of slowing down.

Phlomis lanata ‘Pygmy’, not so much a pygmy, Oloron Sainte Marie, November 2023

Our conditions can be quite harsh, hot sun, little rain for long periods and damp, even wet winters into Spring. I had taken three small cuttings of Hydrangea quercifolia from the Tostat garden, and they have been slow to get going, with not much happening for the first two years. But they are clearly well rooted in now to our stony soil, and this year looks to be the making of them. I love them even more for the effort.

Hydrangea quercifolia, 3 yr old cutting from Tostat, Oloron Sainte Marie, November 2023

In the Barn Garden, another plant that I have watched and waited for is Fatsia polycarpa ‘Green Fingers’. It was a newish introduction so there wasn’t a lot of information about it three years ago. And it did struggle getting into the shady, poor soil spot that I had put it in. But, three years on, this has been the year when it has turbo charged itself, and is now taller than the companion Mahonia with very cumbersome name, Mahonia eurybracteata subsp. ganpinensis ‘Soft Caress’ next to it. It has a wonderful form, with tiers of arching, jazz hands leaves in a good green.
Fatsia polycarpa ‘Green Fingers’ and Mahonia ‘Soft Caress’, Oloron Sainte Marie, November 2023

I tried to buy another ‘Green Fingers’ last year but couldn’t find one, so went for the more usual variety, ‘Spider’s Web’. This is in a worse spot soil-wise, but a better spot light-wise, and seems to have gone for the big spread look in one year only. I quite like that it’s not too creamy at the edges.

Fatsia japonica ‘Spiders Web’, Oloron Sainte Marie, November 2023

Now this is a vital stone. Last winter I noticed that a low branch of Mahonia ‘Soft Caress’ was brushing the ground, so just thought I would have a go at getting that branch to root by weighing it down with a stone. Nine months later, the Assistant Gardener went home with a rooted cutting which should make a bonny plant in a few more months. So I am having another go with the vital stone.

Time, chance and a bit of knowledge combined.

The vital stone….

We all need Phlomis in our lives…

Phlomis lanata ‘Pygmy’, Oloron Sainte Marie, July 2021

I am trying out a brave and maybe foolhardy experiment in the sloping, stony and hitherto uncultivated front garden. Given that it is stony and pretty unforgiving, as well as being in full sun almost all day, I had already thought that it could offer a great opportunity to grow cuttings of many of my dry garden plants from the old garden in Tostat. So, I had originally imagined that I would tip much more gravel on top of the stony ground and plant through that, having pulled or dug out as much as I could see that I didn’t want, too many dandelions and way too much bindweed and bramble for example. But….it wasn’t possible to buy any gravel in lockdown, and so, watching the early spring passing by, I went for the Big Gamble.

What if I just planted my small plants anyway? Waiting wasn’t a good option. Firstly, plants like this get impatient in pots generally having massed fibrous root systems or tap roots, both of which want to be in the ground when young. Secondly, I thought that, as long as I didn’t let the bindweed and bramble get too boisterous, with any luck my plants would begin to bulk up this year and be in really good shape next year to dominate any existing plants without me having to wage war on their behalf.

So, in they all went, probably more than 50 small plants grown as cuttings and some new plants bought small, as well as various others kindly given to the new garden. Most were planted by pickaxe as huge numbers of river boulders, probably from surrounding walls that had fallen down, were everywhere. One plant took more than an hour to get into the ground, as 4 or 5 massive 5kg boulders had to be hand extracted by pickaxe. There was a lot of sweat and much swearing.

Phlomis lanata ‘Pygmy’, Tostat, April 2020

And 4 months later, I am quietly confident that the Big Gamble has paid off. To be completely fair, I still have quite a bit of bramble and bindweed, and a sprinkling of very mixed existing plants, such as self-sown Nigella and some flowering weeds. But I am not very bothered by them. The idea was to make a planting of plants that would respond well to the conditions, and let them manage the landscape, accepting those existing plants, whatever they are, that can co-exist. The new plants are slowly taking their place and beginning to be visible through the mix, which means that next year, the space will look very different. Some things have failed, particularly one or two of the bought plants- but my homegrown plants are gaining traction, particularly the Phlomis.

Phlomis lanata ‘Pygmy’, which flowered last Spring in Tostat, later unluckily (it is very small) was strimmed to the ground by Andy, so what came here was a seriously pygmy ‘Pygmy’. But the photo at the top of this post shows you the plant today- looking very good and seriously grown-up to the fullish height of 0.25m.

Phlomis x termessii, Oloron Sainte Marie, July 2021

The golden Phlomis, x termessii is really looking at home. It has had a bit of a heat problem during our very dry patch of six weeks or so in Spring, but the new growth looks really great so I am looking forward to it tripling in size and flowering in April next year. Like everything else on the slope, I have only spot-watered when a plant looked to be in serious trouble, so I am ok with plants struggling a bit as this will stimulate better and deeper root growth for the future.

Phlomis boveii subsp. maroccana, Oloron Sainte Marie, July 2021

I am really looking forward to this Phlomis boveii, it has tall, pale pink flowers in the late Spring, and is bulking up really well. Early leaves got a bit burnt by dryness in February, but the plant has recovered well and looks set for next year.

Senecio vira-vira, Oloron Sainte Marie, July 2021

Moving to a plant that was new to me, I am surprised and delighted by this funny-looking Senecio vira-vira. It is incredibly brittle, so don’t plant it anywhere where it will be knocked or bashed. I didn’t put it in the best places, but the upside of bits breaking off is that they root in water in a bright kitchen within 10 days or so, so I have generated about half a dozen new plants already. The flowers are insignificant as the foliage is the real deal, silvery white and felted, so that it looks like very touchable marble. I really like it. I think it will make a mound in the end.

Phlomis purpurea and Greek Oregano, Tostat, April 2020

I didn’t bring Phlomis purpurea. A mistake. It is a lovely thing, so I am on the hunt for one.

Eryngium eburneum, Oloron Sainte Marie, July 2021

Eryngium eburneum has had a struggle but looking at the new growth at the base of the rosette, I reckon that it has cracked it and will be back bigger and stronger next year.

Euphorbia pithyusa ‘Ponte Leccia’, Oloron Sainte Marie, July 2021

Euphorbia pithyusa ‘Ponte Leccia’ is a beautiful, elegant and refined euphorbia. It develops into a finely wafting mound which offers the same movement as a grass, with soft green fronds that blend in really well even if planted closely to other plants.

I went for broke and also wanted to try out planting Achillea crithmifolia as a protective barrier around my new acquired Rosa mutabilis. I have been reading a little about allelopathic plants, and thought that this would be an interesting experiment in miniature. So far so good, not much has got through, just a twig of bindweed which might be too butch for the Achillea to manage. We will see.

Rosa mutabilis and Achillea crithmifolia, Oloron Sainte Marie, July 2021