I am feeling slightly flat today having missed posting yesterday. ‘One a month’ was the original mantra, I missed Jan 2013 by a whisker of activity. Ho Hum, not going to give myself a hard time about it but ho hum!
So Hippeastrum…You’re probably wondering why on earth I would be writing about this rather kitsch plant that seems to pop up over the winter months (Oct to Jan blooming time) looking all blousey in your mother-in-laws kitchen/conservatory/dining room.
Well let me say that I inherited one from a family member. It was given to them as a gift about 4 Christmas’ ago and had been lurking in it’s increasingly tatty box in the garage unplanted and un-loved. I noticed it trying to poke it’s foliage into the light during the annual debris clear out in the garage 3 years ago. Being a bit of a collector, I can never resist an ambitious plant, and being thrifty (read mean) I can’t bear to throw potential away without trying. So I took it home and potted it up in the pot provided. It sat on the cold window sill and went onto produce not one but two spectacular stems with enormous stripey pink and cream flowers. Not so fleeting – a good 3 or 4 weeks in flower and in return I buried the whole pot in the partially shaded border for the spring and summer months, leaving leafage and feeding along with other shrubs and bulb-ery in that part of the garden. Low and behold more leaves appeared and the bulb grew, ish. At the end of Autumn I duly took it inside not wanting it to turn to mush in the sub-zeros we had last year and molly coddled it hoping for a spectacular show as the year before.
Not a bit of it, oh it thrived, leafed up and sucked up water, leafed up some more but no flower spike I will admit to feeding it at the sight of each new leaf (they look like flower spikes in the first few days) but not a single flower spike emerged. Having a remarkably short attention span for plants that don’t ‘do’ what they’re supposed to it was consigned to an east facing windowsill for the rest of the winter and then plonked in the ‘do something with’ shady border, under a rampant clematis for the rest of last year.
During this years autumn clear up I discovered it was quite happily lurking with 3 or 4 leaves tattered and bent from slug attention and neglect. This time I’d read up on the old hippeastrum and swiftly cut back the leaves potted it on to a 2ltr pot with fresh compost mix and brought it inside, “one last chance” I told it, “if you don’t flower this year you’re compost!”
Now I’m not a big conversationalist when it comes to dialogue with my plants but on occasion I have been known to threaten such things and even tell them how beautiful they are, with not much small talk in between. I’ll be honest I have never noticed one jot of difference in a plants behavior following such chats but, well some of you might. Christmas came and went, New Year came and went, nothing. Lush juicy leafage but no sign of a flower stalk. Then after a particularly cold weekend away I returned home to the makings of a flower stalk. The stem seems to lurch in growth, not so much steady increments but 6 inches one week and nothing the next. I am a sporadic water-er and feeder so no doubt this will have everything to do with it but maybe not, maybe this Hippeastrum is just contrary and likes doing it it’s own way. About ten days later the first flower unfurled. HUGE. Honestly it is the size of my hand span (size 7 glove) a softer reddy pinky creamy than I recall and flowery. Then flower number two emerged fattening up and up until one dark night the whole thing keeled over into the money plant, tipping soil all over the place. Staking was required. I pinched the green stick from the Orchid I am also attempting to coax into re-flowering and tied three lots of string around at even intervals up the chunky stem, it seems to be holding nicely. Bloom two was no less magnificent, no less blousey, ok possibly a tad more gaudy. Finally bloom three popped out pushing towards the opposite direction and balancing the whole perfectly. Flower one is still perfect, flower three is emerging (takes about a day) and I am wondering how long it will all last.
not THE one but jolly similar
Of course because it’s so in your face flouncy I am thinking of purchasing another to complement it, and take up more window space and frustrate me in the coming years. Though this time having done my homework and discovered they need 6-8 weeks of cold (10 degrees C) and a spot of drying out, simulating a dormant period in the growing phase. Once dormancy is done and leaves begin to poke up, it’s into faking spring/summer mode for the plant, upping the temp to a healthy 15-18 (i.e move it to a lived in room) and begin the feeding and careful watering. Careful watering is so as not to rot the bulb and of course as a horticulturalist I should say I do this, I don’t I am slack, the hippeastrum is forgiving, one thing I do make sure of is that it doesn’t sit in or on water, I park it in half a sink of water for 20 mins then drain it for an hour on the drainer, sit it back on it’s dish until I remember again it needs watering.
At the time of posting the third flower is still out some 3 weeks later. Well worth the effort.
It’s been a roller coaster of a year 2012 though on the whole as many ups as downs. It started brilliantly well and sort of coasted in a bit from there.
6 weeks between posts is long even by our standards but December has been busy, mostly thwarted by rain and wind and then of course the freezing frosts entwined with sub-zero temperatures. Plans have been planned and re-planned, cancelled, re-booked and some even met on time!
Frosticled River Salix
The herbaceous garden held on in sterling show well into December and it took some ruthless moments to cut back and tidy up while plants still flowered and flounced about. In the end a worthwhile sacrifice.
For photographers the thought is ‘what’s not to love about dead umbel seed heads and grassy fronds frosticled up and glistening?’ as a gardener by midday the soggy brown mess of after frost is ugly and not to be admired. Sometimes it’s a toss up, this year with the rain and wind it was not. Down it all came ready to be chopped up and composted.
The compost heap suffered this year too, too dry, too wet, too many ants, too much brown, too much green, too little of anything…and on it goes. We’re am fast coming to the conclusion that ‘hot composting‘ is the best route, although next year we’ll be trialing a method passed on from another National Collection holder who likes the idea of the ‘low-to-no work’ gardening. That will be green manure grown, trampled and covered with a layer of weed control fabric pinned down, leaving the mulch to rot and then planting. Moving towards the no dig movement is a definitely gaol for 2013.
The media was peppered with Mistletoe stories, learning about it’s history and uses from social to medicinal enlightened one and all. One of our clients is growing some from seed embedded deliberately in a wonderful old Bramley. It’s thriving but surprisingly slow to start. Growing a plant is a favourite way to get to know it.
New Years Eve and New Years Day are a favourite time to retreat from the world and write todo lists, goals, resolutions, mind-map, doodle, cogitate, re-write and re-write again letting the imagination flow and take form (write it down, write it down, write it down!). This years cogitating will include Monty Don’s ritual (GWM Jan) of laying out seed packets on the dining room table, bed by bed and then make up the lists of when to plant and how much (space is at an optimum).
Here is to 2013 regain some equilibrium lost in 2012 with snowdrops just poking up their leaves it is possible to ignore the flowering Hammamelis and the blooming Lonicera Winter Beauty (both a month early).
Exciting times ahead and we’re looking forward to the new projects of 2013
Wishing one and all a Happy and Prosperous 2013.
I know I have banged on about Wimpole Hall on several occasions, it is my ‘local’ NT garden after all but it remains an inspiring place to go and is full of ideas to take home and try out, on a somewhat smaller scale of course!.
When I say it is inspiring I am not really talking of the parterre, which is best glanced at through dark glasses. Suffice to say it is a painful homage to bygone trends though may inspire budding Britain in Bloom entrants I suppose.
Making a right on the path to avoid the garish parterre one finds oneself ambling through a rather new woodland area that seems loaded with interesting specimen trees it’s difficult not to get distracted by the unusual selection and find it takes a long while to walk a short way.
Being determine though and knowing where I am headed I resist the urge and head decisively towards the Walled Garden. In fact it is a double walled garden.
- Outer wall gate
The first gated entry, tucked into deep evergreen plantings, leads into a well stocked, expansive orchard.
- Hay drying under the apple trees
- Juicy fruit
A well designed path encourages me to move to the inner gardens but it’s tempting to wander in the orchard admiring the uncommon fruit varieties and wondering if anyone would miss a juicy applethat it calling my name. The long meadow grass lies briefly as hay beneath the trees, a gardener tells me it will be collected once dry. It’s evocative of a rural idyll of the past and somehow pleasing. He also tells me of the new beehives installed at one end of the orchard.
- Bees feasting on nectar
It’s not difficult to see how much the bees enjoy the enormous late summer borders that flank the outside of the inner walls. Wide flanks of abundant planting humming with insects.
- Long wide, nectar rich borders of the orchard gardens
That said I will say that they seemed to be far more interested in inhabiting a hole in the tall red brick wall a few feet up from the nectar rich border than flying hundreds of yards away to brand spanking new purpose built wooden boxes.
Nectar rich borders
I can readily understand that desire.
- Inner wall gates
The inner wall gate states that rabbits are unwelcome and one can imagine Peter, Flopsy, Mopsy and Cotton Tail would have a field day in the productive gardens that lie beyond.
The large green greenhouse
Then there are choices to be made, ahead, left or right. Ahead one is greeted by a large greenhouse which is literally green and surrounded by a plethora of seasonal plantings both tender and hardy you can’t enter it but you can admire the gourds within.
Cutting borders
Plant label
To the right are blocks and blocks of flowers with enormous wooden labels identifying each variety. Though you have to know your genus and species as these are not well documented.
Leading around the gardens hedges of Gaura froth over the path
Gaura lindheimeri at the path edge
and walls of ripening fruit line the inner, inner walls.
Trained fruit
Espalier, cordon and fan training all in evidence.
To the left the productive gardens are showing off
Rotavator pausing between shifts
and alongside education material incorporated into borders. I didn’t know I could grow Woad (Isatis tinctoria)
Isatis tinctoria - Woad - give a blue pigment
still and am seriously considering a spot for it in the garden, though painting my face with it may not be on the list of things to use it for.
Though the walled garden is clearly used for educational purposes what stays with me the most is the idea that cut flowers can also be grown like a crop.
Echinacea purpurea crop
Long blocks of them are dotted through the big cultivated areas.
Crocosmia Lucifer crop
Echinacea, Crocosmia, Lavender, Iris and lots and lots of Dhalia.
Cosmos bipinnatus
There is something pleasing about order in a productive garden, everything has a place and an order presides. The design is formal and symmetrical as are many productive plots, this one speaks of borders designed to enhance views as well as accommodate ‘crops’ .
Views within the inner garden
On every visit I come away with more ideas and plans than can possibly be put into a 30x10ft town garden and that is the joy of it, always something new to try next year. This year though I have an 80x12ft allotment to play with. Last years dahlia crop, grown from 3 packets of seed, in large garden pots is going in the ground once the frosts pass. It won’t be Wimpole but it will be fabulous all the same.
Dhalia from seed
The first few weeks are under my belt now. It has been daunting and exciting and many other emotions since starting, I am on another steep learning curve which is all to the good (Outliers here I come!) as far as I can see.
One aspect that intrigues me, and I feel I have not completely settled on how to progress, is the design process. Now as The Designer one has time to design, research, design some more, that’s what you ‘job’ is. But as a designer for design and build company it’s not entirely the same. The job is: design, fast; sell the design, fast; cost and quote it; schedule it; detail the construction, fast; project manage, at the fastest pace you can, and let me say thats 4 or 5 jobs at a time not 1 at a time!
In all this I find the methods taught to me at college are simply too time consuming, perhaps I am still a slowcoach though? Drawing up a basic 3d model takes me 1.5-2 days (depending on how much visual material there is for reference and how good the survey is). Sketch plan, for a large garden (2 acres plus and still my bette noir) another couple of days with cogitating and inspiration finding in between. Rendering elevations and perspectives at least 1 maybe 2 days. But it seems as if the time frame for all is budgeted at about 3 days, max!
I need to speed up!
Beginnings of a sketch plan for front and side gardens
Aerial view from rear, trees as circle
That said, I did re-design and draw up a front garden in 4 hours last week!
REFLECTIONS UPON A GARDEN VISIT - written for the SGD student writing competition 2010.
The Dorothy Clive Garden, Shropshire
Shropshire is glorious country. Far enough off the beaten track to be truly unspoiled but filled with and close to, so many enticing garden greats that an offer of the use of a small, well appointed [...]
REFLECTIONS UPON A GARDEN VISIT - written for the SGD student writing competition 2010.
The Dorothy Clive Garden, Shropshire
Shropshire is glorious country. Far enough off the beaten track to be truly unspoiled but filled with and close to, so many enticing garden greats that an offer of the use of a small, well appointed manor house in exchange for a week of chicken sitting and a little ‘light weeding’ made it too good to resist. Encouraged by my Shawbury based hosts to include a visit to the, as yet unknown to me, Dorothy Clive gardens near Market Drayton it was planned in as a quick stop en route to the recently rave reviewed gardens at Wollerton Old Hall, a mere hop and a skip down the A53.
Climbing the slight hill towards the wide entry way I began to wonder if I was stepping back in time to a Victorian pleasure garden and the verdant shrubberies and dated signage lining the entry did not bode well. Though first impressions are said to be important in this case they could not have been less so. Entering the gardens at the base of the steep south facing incline a pool stretches before me heavily planted with water lilies and marginals and lush with late summer foliage. Directly behind the pool a staggered gravel path winds steeply upwards between deep plantings of mature mound forming shrubs, evergreens, dwarf conifers, junipers and delicate alpines. The spreading mounds of Choiysia and Geranium interspersed with arching Dierama pulcharis contrast with the strong vertical flowers and foliage of the mature Yucca gloriosa. Trees to either side reinforce the enclosed valley feeling in this part of the garden giving it a sense of mountainous alpine garden. Turning to survey the view from the top I am struck by how beautifully it sits within it rural Shropshire setting, borrowing well the landscapes beyond it’s own boundaries.
As the topography evens out wide swathes of lawn lead the eye, and the foot, upwards through more seasonal planting on the hillside, schemes of pink and white Cleome hassleriana, white Nicotiana sylvestris, vibrant blue Cernithe major var. purpurascens and the striking pinks of Cosmos bipinnatus, frothy annuals bursting they glorious bounty for a few shorts months in front of heavily hipped shrub and rambler roses and interplanted with perennial fuschia and grasses. Beyond these are the riotous colours of the herbaceous borders. Dotted through the more familiar flowering British perennials, white mop head hydrangeas, sunny yellow Hemerocallis, brilliant coloured Salvias and Persicarias 
are the architectural but tender perennial including Ricinus communis and Ensete ventricosum (Banana plant), Dhalias, ‘David Howard ‘ and D. ‘Bishops of Landaff’, Canna ‘Striata’ and C. ‘Louis Cayeux’ and cleverly anchored by tall stately grasses, Cortaderia selloana and Stipa gigantea. 
According to the scant literature this sections recent past was that of farmers field with sand for soil, the remnants of the quarry waste. Making it’s transformation since 1958 is all the more remarkable.
Skirting the small but functional salad and herb garden to the side of the cafe and plant centre takes me up into the very top of the quarry garden and ducking through a clipped Ilex into the tree canopy of the quarry gardens bursting with giant shrubs and trees. The path falls away, steeply in places, to the bottom of the old quarry but the lush foliage of the canopy is captivating and exciting. 
It is not often one can stand in the tree canopy and truly admire it’s layering and complex forms. Seeing huge mature specimens set in their own space is not something many gardens have space for. It delights the inner child in me, the one that longs to climb the tree and survey my surroundings. I resist the urge, and instead walk towards the sound of falling water off to my left. The woodland quarry was abandoned 50 years ago and following a planting of timber oaks for the local village the soil matter has developed from the accumulation of leaf litter, into well drained acid soils. Taking advantage of this the creator of the garden Colonel Harry Clive enlisted the help of friend and former director of RHS Wisley, Frank Knight and embarked on selecting Rhododendrons and Azaleas that would thrive in these conditions. Eventually some 250 species and cultivars have been collected and are currently on display though it is clear that today they are suffering from the effects of a recent outbreaks of Phytopthera ramorum , and have closed of two sections of the quarry to deal with the containment and eradication of the disease through careful removal of affected plant matter and implementation of the strict DEFRA codes of hygiene. Though Cornwall and the south west have been hardest hit by the spread of this disease which has led to thousands of outbreaks in the last 8 years it is sobering to see this devastated section of the garden and a strong reminder of the fragility of such gardens. I am careful to observe the instructions and keep to the path, all thoughts of tree climbing are now firmly parked in the ‘not appropriate’ box.
Locating the sound of falling water I am presented with the sight of layers of stone embedded in the hillside cascades of water tumbling over it in a rhythmic stream. The water fall is man made and installed to mark the 50th anniversary of the garden in 1990. A pump stimulates the flow and once again invites curiosity as to why there is an irregular flow to the water. From the base one is looking up into the steep side of the quarry that is now matted with lush planting. Thick with damp ferns and hostas, backed by towering Rhododendrons and vast Hydrangea macrophylla bushes. Above the fall is a small feeder stream with a rather incongruous but imposing bronze stag sculpture sits surveying the garden from above.
The woodland floor is no less alive and supports a mass of Dicentra, Epimedium and wood Anemones as well as ivy leaved cyclamen and mats of glossy dark Hedera. The season of interest in this woodland quarry is a long one beginning with early Rhododendrons and Magnolia in spring, followed by Azaleas, Rodgersia podophylla and tree like Hydrangea macrophylla, then as autumn draws in, the promise of colour comes from a number of fine Acer palmatum specimens.
To be within the quarry is to be transported to a deeply shaded woodland environment, surrounded by the sounds of the trees, the waterfall and living inhabitants. It has rained on and off during the day and the damp smells of forest are really quite delicious when deeply inhaled on this walk.
Again a steep rise out of the quarry leads to more wide open avenues, heavily planted on either side with rich blue and deep pink shrub Hyndrangea. On this side of the 4 acre garden there are mere glimpses of the surrounding countryside, it focus seems more towards the views created within the garden and to showing off the natural and man made topography within it’s boundaries. Dipping away to the back of the quarry lies the gravel garden, terraced, hedged and inviting further exploration. It’s purported to have strong architectural and textural plantings with many non-natives from New Zealand on display. My first sight over the terraced raised beds is of a long metal pergola carrying thick stems of Laburnum, Wisteria and roses, reminiscent of those iconic, well photographed walkways at Barnsley House and Bodnant . 
The Gravel garden, formerly the Secret garden, is less pleasing than some of the other sections and although packed with unusual plants and interesting, diversionary routes through it, I find I do not want to linger. Perhaps were there hot sunshine it might transform the space but given the slightly damp, overcast morning I head downwards back towards the hillside gardens.
Finding a quiet bench overlooking a long sweep of lawns and shrubbery I read that the Dorothy Clive Garden and the Willoughbridge Trust that maintains it, was created by Colonel Harry Clive in 1958. The actual gardens were created by Colonel Clive for his wife, Dorothy, who was suffering from Parkinson’s disease and works began in the quarry in 1940 and continued until 1958 when further stretches of farmland were acquired and plans developed for the expansion of the gardens. Colonel Clive oversaw the projects as curator until his death in 1963. The original purpose of the garden, as a haven for his wife to exercise during her illness, has remained a key objective for the Trust and it continues to offer visitors space to enjoy rest and relaxation among the many distinctly divided areas of the garden.
Stretching over 12 acres the garden has been cared for and developed by many people, staff and volunteer, though clearly the head gardener of 35 years, George Lovatt and the curator Paul McCauley have influenced it greatly during their periods of stewardship. The two main gardens, the quarry and the hillside are broken down into smaller sections that flow easily back and forth via gravel paths and interesting walkways. And although the flow is quite clearly defined through wide paths and open lawns, the temptation to wander off on a narrow path in search of a plant one can see in the distance is just too much for a greedy plants person.
If I had one criticism it would be, as ever, the lack of consistent good plant labeling, I know and understand the frustrations and challenges faced by hosts of public and private gardens open to the public that, as the late Christopher Lloyd of Great Dixter stated in his leaflet,
“Labels
…Here are some of my reasons for not labeling:
- They’re expensive in terms both of materials and the time needed to list the plants and to write and place the labels.
- Plants need labels that are stuck into the ground. The public removes them, the more easily to read, but does not replace them firmly or even in the right place.
- It is easier to pop a label into a handbag that to try and memorise it on the spot
- The wrong label is read for the name of the plant to be identified
- Visitors dart into the border, oblivious of foot prints, the better to read a label that is out of reach from the front”
Christopher Lloyd and Charles Hind: A Guide to Great Dixter. 2008
So I find I am recovering old ground during my visit coming upon areas from different angles and gaining yet another insight into the planting and the design of this lovely private garden. I want to spend more than the hurried morning I have planned here but Wollerton Old Hall is equally demanding of my attention so I make a mental note to offer pet sitting services next spring when the quarry garden will be at it’s very best and to make a day of it, brining not only camera but also note book and pen to record as much as I can about this enchanting garden.
