Scorched earth…

Poilanthes tuberosa ‘The Pearl’, Tostat, August 2018

This is proving to be a very hard summer.  We are now in the 7th week or so of temperatures 90% of the time in the C30s, and with maybe 20mm of rain in that time.  It is a terrible test for my ‘no watering’ policy- in which I have endeavoured to find and grow plants that will survive by themselves with what nature provides.  It is now far too late for any panicky watering, which I have considered, as the ground is so hard and dry that genuine and very long-lasting gentle rain will be the only way to recover the situation.  I have made one or two exceptions for plants that were newly planted in the cold June we had, but otherwise, I am waiting to see what will happen.  Can I be accused of being reckless?  Maybe…

The plants in the pots are being watered- which takes about an hour and a half everyday.  Thank goodness for the expanding hose!  Not to mention the agricultural canal and the underground water sources that we can pump water out of…

But the potted plants are also feeling the strain of the heat.  Poilanthes tuberosa ‘The Pearl’ which has a simply gorgeous perfume, like warm baked custard with a hint of the exotic, has produced only one flowerspike from 3 pots.  It is the most beautiful thing too, but simply not in the mood for flowering at all.

Poilanthes tuberosa ‘The Pearl’, all out, Tostat, August 2018

The potted Salvias are also on the fed-up side.  Even with watering.  I have just moved into survival mode, keeping them alive till we at last cool down.  I have taken 2 newish roses out and re-potted them, which has revived them somewhat- and my new Aspidistra plants are in deep shade in the cool, in pots.

The very first flower on home-grown Clematis tangutica ‘Helios’, with the new camera, Tostat, August 2018

With watering three times a day from the squeezy bottle, or, when bigger, the small watering can, seed production has not, amazingly, been too bad.  I keep them in the open barn, so they get 3-4 hours of angled sunlight, and then shade- and I have really had to be on it to keep them all going.  But successes (for the moment) include Alogyne hakeifolia, a lovely Hibiscus relative which I fell in love with in Spain, Malva sylvestris ‘Zebrina’ has romped away from seed to small plant in 4 weeks, Heuchera cylindrica ‘Greenfinch’ and x brizoides ‘Firefly’ have done the same though they are tiny plants in comparison, Clematis tangutica ‘Helios’ and a lovely load of hollyhock seed from my friends in Winchcombe, are coming up beautifully.  Other plants I shan’t name, for fear of incurring the hubris curse.

From this, you can see that I am looking all the time at toughness in plants, mostly to do with drought resilience- but I own that this period is straining my willingness to live happily with brown.

Changing tack, the stunning Hibiscus palustris is very happy, right by the canal with roots certainly reaching the water.  The huge, chiffon paper flowers look fabulous with some backlighting, and although it can be invasive, it is not looking that way so far here.  Perhaps it knows not to wander far from the water.

Hibiscus palustris, Tostat, August 2018

Precision engineering, Hibiscus palustris in bud, Tostat, August 2018

So, looking ahead, we have maybe 5 mm rain offered to us this week, but nothing more.  I know that plants will come back from this, but I am feeling as if my policy has hit a murderous phase.

 

After the Rain…

Acidanthera murielae, Tostat, September 2016

On Tuesday night, the heavens opened, and it has rained off and on, mostly heavily and without wind, since then, till this morning when cool air but also bright sunshine appeared.  Bliss. You can almost feel the earth drinking the water.  Truth is, most of the garden is pretty much crisped to death.  Not total death, but certainly over for this year.  The watered pots are still doing beautifully, but, with the exception of a few things, everything arrived too fast and went over too fast in the heat and dry.  So, this autumn will not see a lot going on in the garden.  But there are some surprises.

Eucalyptus gunnii Azura, Tostat, September 2016

I bought this in the ‘bin-end’ section of a local nursery about 4 years ago, and planted it thinking it could be a sentinel plant at the opening into the New Garden. It was almost too bright to photograph it this morning and so I only just got the very top of it in the picture.  I adore this tree.  Yes, it works as a sentinel, with it’s fine, elegant and delicate columnar shape and colouring, not to mention the round, grouped leaves that give it an almost frothy look- but it is also not going to get too much bigger, currently about 2m at the widest and about 3.5m high (well, that’s what the websites seem to agree on) and so it won’t dominate the area around it.

Passiflora fruiting almost done, Tostat, September 2016

Just caught this view as I was wandering past.  It makes the most of the remaining colour in the garden and airbrushes out the drought- rather well, I think.

Poilanthes tuberosa ‘The Pearl’, Tostat, September 2016

I bought some of these bulbs on offer in a cold and wet June.  They looked pretty dull till the other week, when up shot these tall, slender, grouped cream flowers with a pale yellow centre.  And the perfume is even available for the Piasecka nose.  Deep, dark and rich, with a strong vanilla tone, or at least I think so. Strong and gorgeous scent that hung near the plant on the hot evenings we have had lately.  Absolutely knockout and with many more flowers to come, which we will miss but our housesitters will enjoy.

Looking down on Begonia luxurians, Tostat, September 2016

Also a pot-dweller, and one that will need a far bigger pot next year, is a real find for this year, Begonia luxurians.  I thought it might be a little delicate as it’s structure is so airy and fine, with these Edward Scissorhands leaves grouped around a centre.  But it has withstood passing people bashing it, wind and rain with aplomb.  It is tender and so it will come in to the house for the winter.

Eucomis autumnalis bearing seed, Tostat, September 2016

Several friends in Tostat are busily growing Eucomis autumnalis seed that I collected last year, so just before we head off next week, I will be collecting as much as I can.  I am imagining about 3 years to a flowering plant, but it is such a great plant, you can’t have enough in pots, and is handsome at every stage of it’s life.  Meanwhile, on the slowly evolving labyrinth, which has suffered the last 2 summers and is not therefore complete with plants, I was collecting seed from good plants (sown 2 years ago) of Carex buchananii ‘Red Rooster’ before the rain.  I now have a big brown envelope full of seed- which might mean that I can finally grow enough, probably about 150 plants, to complete the outer circuit and fill in the odd hole. Fingers crossed.

Dryopteris erythrosora, Tostat, September 2016

There has been so much gratitude for the rain.  This Dryopteris has even reverted to a semi-spring position, instantly throwing up new leaves and looking pretty content.

Solidago rugosa ‘Fireworks’, Tostat, September 2016

This plant, Solidago rugosa ‘Fireworks’, is only in it’s first year and so has a way to go.  But it has been redoubtable in the heat and dry, and so next year it should be in fine fettle.  I love the arching delicacy of the flowering branches and it’s fine vase-shaped, upright form.  It does look heat-weary, but it has pulled through, albeit with a little spot-watering.

Maurandya antirhiniflora taking on Salvia ‘Ember’s Wish’, Tostat, September 2016

At the same time, the change in the weather has brought the sharper early morning light of autumn, which allowed this small flower to steal my gaze as I went out with a cup of tea this morning.  It’s good to be alive.