Breaks in the rain…

Anemone x fulgens Multipetala 1, Oloron Sainte Marie, March 2024

The rain has continued to pour down, bringing flooded fields and a good dollop of soft snow on the tops of the foothills of the Piedmont Pyrenees, which we can just see from the Barn Garden. But this week we have had a few breaks in the rain, and so those doughty plants that are bashing on with spring growth regardless have had a little cheer. Patience is the virtue most required for gardening, but it is essential in Spring. I don’t want to stamp around on soaked soil and compact the life out of it. But the patience part is hard to muster sometimes, I will be frank.

I first saw this Anemone x fulgens Multipetala growing in a big clump in front of a gate in Auriebat, a village a short way away from Tostat, where we used to live. It is a wonderful flaming red when in full flower and I had to dig deep to identify it, plainly an Anemone, but now quite a rare sight. This is one of those plants that was common in farmyards and vineyards in the Southern end of France, but has largely retreated as the countryside has been liberally dosed with pesticides in the last 50 years. So, eventually, I found some seriously pricey bulbs and planted them in a good place in the Tostat garden. They are not speedy growers, and once flowered, they go back underground in the summer, and remain invisible till the next spring. So, when we came to move in the Autumn of 2021 to Oloron Sainte Marie, I had to take a stab at trying to dig them up and bring them, whilst not slicing them in half. Net result, I dug up only about half of my clump. Never mind. I still have some.

The foliage has been emerging since Christmas, and a week ago, the shy flowerheads have started to lift themselves out of the soil. I have them in a pot in the courtyard, so I know where they are. There’s nothing much to see in the early stages, see photo 1, but all will be revealed…

The Barn Garden, Oloron Sainte Marie, March 2024

The Barn Garden is waking up. I love this mix of plants. From the left, you can only just see the bare, but budding branches of Amelanchier alnifolia ‘Obelisk’. I bought these as 6″ weaklings about 10 years ago, and had them in tall cream pots at the back door in Tostat. ‘Obelisk’ is such a great plant, svelte, upright, and doesn’t grow too big for the smallest garden, has lovely bright green foliage, late Spring cream flowers, small dark fruits and autumn colour. I don’t usually get the autumn colour because of summer dryness, but that’s fine. My two plants have greatly appreciated being back in the ground since we moved, and are really liking the Barn Garden.

Next left is a Mahonia eurybracteata ssp. ganpinensis ‘Soft Caress’ and muscling in from behind, a bright green leaved Fatsia polycarpa ‘Green Fingers’. The Mahonias, two of them, came from the Tostat garden and had become a bit tortured in shape from the big conifer that they grew under. I rather like the contorted shape, and they are straightening up a bit now. This is a more elegant, delicate shape than other varieties of Mahonia, and is also not prickly. I am convinced that it’s botanical name has been changed as I could swear it was only half the length the last time I talked about it.

The Fatsia was a bit touch and go for the first couple of years, as the conditions in the Barn garden were not brilliant, but this past year it has begun to motor. Which just goes to show that not disturbing the ground too much, leaving leaves to lie over the winter, basically giving the process time, and also leaving little weeds to grow and then letting them decompose, is what helps soil to recover. That is a very good use of patience. You can see I have not yet got to pulling the little weed population, but they will be left where they are.

The dry grass that has kept such a good shape through the winter is Pennisteum ‘Black Beauty’, another plant that took time to settle in. But it is now settled, as I potted up a couple of babies in the Autumn for the first time. Tostat was too dry for Pennisetum, but it’s just fine here. Those flowerheads get darker and more striking as the plant matures. The short spikey plants in the foreground are Dianella tasmanica ‘Little Rev’. These have never flowered for me, but this could be due to the tree cover that leans over, reducing the sun reaching the plants. But I like them for their stiff spikiness anyway.

The heucheras are the last thing to mention- survivors of a vine weevil attack when in pots, they are a really great plant, though I admit not being a fan of some of the more outrageously coloured varieties being developed now. These, I think, are Heuchera ‘Caramel’ and I love the apricot tones of the foliage. I split them every now and then, and just poke them in where I have a gap as they are tough and very obliging. A workhorse plant that I used to be sniffy about.

Aspidistra ‘Asahi’ and trimmed Muehlenbeckia grandiflora or complexa, Oloron Sainte Marie, March 2024

I bought a tiny, dried up pot of Muehlenbeckia grandiflora or complexa a few years back, and just stuck it in a better pot. Two years later, and it was in a tall pot, beautifully tumbling with it’s twiggy, tangled growth and it seemed to love wherever it was put. Some sites say it needs sun, mine, just after it’s pruning last week, will soon be doing the tumbling thing and it is pretty much in semi-shade. It does lose leaves in the winter, but they are already popping back as you can see. I like the airy look of it next to the Aspidistra ‘Asahi’.

Anemone 2, Oloron Sainte Marie, March 2024

Here is the Anemone four days later, just beginning to paint itself with colour.

Yellow cerinthe, self-seeded, Barn Garden, Oloron Sainte Marie, March 2024

I love Cerinthe. I do like the blue, but I adore the yellow. Yellow is such a good spring colour. These were grown from seed last year and have self-seeded this year. So, I will need to grow some more for next year as they probably won’t make it back for a third year.

Salix gracilistyla melanostachys ‘Kurome’, Oloron Sainte Marie, March 2024

Last year, I went a bit mad and ending up buying two Salix gracilistyla melanostachys or ‘Kurome’. It was knd of a mistake, but having got myself into that, I bit the bullet and they are both in the shady corner of the courtyard in big pots. These may get very big so I am going to be doing salix pruning to keep them manageable. This is the first catkin, and I am very excited. I tought it would be blacker but on close examination, it is more of a dark cranberry colour with almost chocolate coloured fringing. Imagine that on a sizable shrub. Great Spring drama.

Anemone 3, Oloron Sainte Marie, a week later than 1, March 2024

The cold has slowed the Anemone down, so it will be next week before we get full colour. Can you wait?

Kitchen crocus

Kitchen crocus, Oloron Sainte Marie, February 2023

Ok. Buckle up. We now have a new climatic phenomenon, winter drought. I am not complaining, especially as Venice has drying out canals. But just realising that there is a new experience to integrate into what and how we garden. Newly planted shrubs in the Barn Garden are crying out for water, and I did crack this morning and give a can or two even though, for the first time in more than 30 days, some rain is expected this week. But, unless it is slow and unrelenting, and continues for days and days, it will not restore the water table and we will go into the Spring with a big deficit. I would never have thought, being so close to the Pyrenees that I would need a water butt. But I do. And will be installing one very soon.

So, in the garden things are looking very sorry for themselves and not really very early Spring-like at all, whereas we already have had sunlit evenings lasting until 7pm. A spot more plant removal has been going on this week. Four clumps of hellebores that are seriously struggling with the drought and the unexpected sunshine have been lifted and are being convalesced prior to finding a spot in the Barn Garden, where at least I can guarantee some shade, if not damp. That might be enough to restore their fortunes.

My Derry Watkins Helleborus sternii, February 2023, Barn Garden, Oloron Sainte Marie

About 5 years ago, I had a go at growing Helleborus sternii from seed bought from Derry Watkins‘ fantastic Special Plants. She has a seed list to die for. I grew five little plants successfully, gave one away to the Eldest Daughter, and kept four in the Barn Garden. Ironically, the one that is doing the best is actually the one almost in some winter sunlight. The others are nearby, but underplanting a Mahonia eurybracteata ‘Soft Caress’. The snag is that the Mahonia, grown young in semi-shade, is a spot contorted and has provided almost too much cover for the Hellebores, which have responded by flowering almost along the ground. Never mind, some corrections to be made later on.

Helleborus sternii is not a blingy plant, it has tough, spiked, deep green leaves, and almond shaped buds that open to a soft green flower, with prominent stamens. I really love it. Two of the other plants have gone the bruised look- a strongish purply crimson colouring in the green of the leaves, and flowers that look as if they’ve been in a boxing ring- losing. But they are also very beautiful in a discreet kind of a way.

Helleborus sternii- losing the bout, Barn Garden, February 2023, Oloron Sainte Marie
Mysterious cerinthe, Barn Garden, February 2023, Oloron Sainte Marie

Only 5 or 6 years ago, I used to grow Cerinthe from seed in the Autumn, plant them out before Christmas and would know, for sure, that they would be bushy plants by March. This I did last year, and now I am looking at spriglet plants trying their best, but essentially only a few leaves bigger than when I planted them out. This is a bit sad. But they are flowering, and they are not just yellow but also have these inky bottoms to the flowers. I can’t remember if I bought a special variety- but on the whole I do like the yellow form although the ubiquitous blue is also good. Easy peasy, bu they do need rain.

Loropetalum chinensis ‘Fire Dance’, Barn Garden, February 2023, Oloron Sainte Marie

I wouldn’t want to oversell this. I bought this Loropetalum because I have lifted all the wayward growing Eucomis bulbs, of which more another time, and replanted the big pot with this early flowering shrub. I do love the pinky crimson finger shape of the flowers and am really looking forward to this becoming a very handsome addition to the Garden. But this is it’s first winter, and probably because it flowers on old wood, all the flowers in this first year are underneath the leaves. Still, this will change. The foliage is a lovely dark purple and so looks great even in the winter. I really wanted a darker red variety, but this is a newish shrub to France and there wasn’t much choice. No big regrets so far.

Back on the kitchen table, I briefly adored the bright yellow crocus flowers with brown striations, which our lovely bio lady at the market had sweetly potted up with her own moss. Gone now, but they were fabulous as a precursor to the bulbs in containers outside. This is the frustrating part of early Spring when waiting for plants to get going seems to slow down. Let’s pray for rain.