Why is it, that when you just seem to be getting something right in the garden, you have to start again?
Our inherited bilberry bushes, though interesting in themselves, were not giving us the colour we need in one of the most used parts of the garden. We must walk down the garden path several times a day and this sunny border needed some serious injection of colour, height and texture.
Last year we thought we had finally managed to create something attractive in a relatively difficult part of the garden. We weeded the area next to the bilberries and introduced fox gloves, tall daisies, pulmonaria, aquilega and hardy geraniums - all taken from other parts of the garden. These gave us something to enjoy as we swished past every day and strangely, the small, delicate pink flowers of the bilberries were much more noticeable than they used to be.
However, the heavy rainfall last winter washed away the bank next to the path and the bilberry roots were laid bare. It was a muddy mess. Something had to be done and Doc, my husband was the man to do it. For a week he put in some serious hard work, digging out the old plants and building a retaining wall made from stacked sleepers. I am a liability in the garden nowadays, so all I could do was offer encouragement, pint glasses of elderflower cordial and a whole packet of chocolate digestive biscuits. (I tested one or two myself just in case they were not up to the required standard for Digger Doc.)
Digging out the mature, woody bilberries was only a fraction of the effort required to transform this bed. Doc now has 6 heavy duty sacks of rocks and stones. If you would like them, let us know! We cannot complain about the amount of stone our garden regurgitates because it is the stone that probably stops our house sliding down the hillside.
We have decided to leave this new, improved bed fallow for the rest of this year and cover it with (unattractive) black polythene until we are sure it is 'clean' of any nasties lurking in the depths.
The bed is in a very sunny position and will be well drained and dry. There are so many plants we can choose from that we hardly know where to start. However, the first task is to move the ornamental silver leaved pear tree a metre or so because it is too close to the pergola. This will need to be done in the autumn or winter, when it is dormant.
Doc planted the pear tree a couple of years ago and at the time I did point out that it was in the wrong place. However, Doc has done so much hard work on the new flower bed, I will not say "I told you so!" It is best to let 'sleeping builders lie.'
An Amelanchier tree is one of those must-haves for any garden and is one of the most popular choices for any type of garden. It does not grow too big and it has masses of star-shaped white or pink-fading-to-white flowers in spring, followed by colourful leaves and ornamental and edible fruits.
There are around 10 species of Amelanchier (also known as the Juneberry) and coming originally from North America, Europe and Asia, they are fully hardy. The flowers have 5 petals and appear on the bare branches just before the first leaves. The leaves slowly emerge and unfurl into an attractive bronze colour which changes to green in summer, then richly coloured red or orange in the autumn. The tree is deciduous but because it is so well behaved, it shows off a neat structure which adds interest throughout the winter months.
We were lucky enough to be given an Amelanchier as a gift when we moved here and for a few years it was potted on in big tubs but now it happily resides in a bed alongside the lawn. It is doing well and will do even better when Doc gets round to hard pruning the overgrown azalea shrubs either side of it.
The best-known species of Amelanchier in this country are the Canadensis and Lamarckii (AGM). Unfortunately we do not know the name or ours because there was no label to accompany it. Some species grow as large shrubs. Since ours is 3 metres tall and looks like a tree, it has obviously decided it is a tree! Our acidic soil definitely brings out the strong autumn colour although I am told that an Amelanchier will tolerate a neutral soil or even a little lime. They do well in full sun but ours has some shade from the large shrubs surrounding it and appears content. Our specimen faces west but it would probably do well in a more a northerly aspect if necessary.
Powdery mildew can sometimes pose a challenge and we deal with it by removing and burning all the fallen leaves in the autumn. Once the shrubs around it are cut back, there will be an increase in air circulation which will also help to control the attacks. If it gets too bad - and only as a last resort - we may have to spray the tree, but only on a calm day to minimise the disruption to the rest of the garden.
We have always loved our Amelanchier because it more or less gets on with the job of growing and giving us a lovely show of colour and structural interest. However, today we realised that we are fortunate to have not one, but two Amelanchiers!
Most gardens have areas that are strictly utilitarian because much as we would like compost bins, piles of ‘useful bricks’ and bags of leaf mould to look attractive, they are not. We chose the area to one side of our shed which is shady thanks to our neighbours’ adoration of very large species conifers and our love of our own beech tree. Doc has landscaped the ground so we have a gravelled area for seating under the shade of the beech tree in summer and it is also the perfect place for pots of hostas. (Putting hostas in open ground in our garden is inviting every slug from miles around to drop round for lunch.)
Doc finished the area off with some trellis which now boasts a lovely evergreen honeysuckle. The trellis finishes with a full stop provided by what was hitherto an un-named sickly looking tree with hardly any branches or leaves. It must have been partially felled decades ago. The remains of the main trunk are sited at an awkward angle probably because it used to strain towards the limited light. At the time the renovations were going on, Doc neither had the energy or motivation to dig out the stump so I took on the job of making it look presentable and behave well enough so I could plant something of interest in front of it. For several years I cut back the whippy stems and to be honest I hacked more than I pruned in the hope the tree would give up altogether. That was until last year when the problems with my painful foot curtailed my gardening activities.
The ‘thing’ as we used to describe it, did not give up. In fact, being felled followed by my harsh treatment does not seem to have done it any harm at all. Perhaps it felt relieved when I became incapacitated! This year, for the first time in 10 years, it has strong new growth and a lovely show of those familiar and welcome star-shaped white flowers with pale bronze leaves which are just about to unfurl. It will never be a tree again, but it has decided that being a shrub is just fine despite the difficult aspect. Isn’t nature amazing?
I was pottering around the greenhouse this afternoon and there is nothing better to keep me company than a mug of tea and the radio tuned to Radio 4’s Gardeners’ Question Time. It is surprising what interesting hints and wrinkles you can pick up and many of the questions make you re-think the way you do things in the garden.
However, today, a question about what to plant underneath a forsythia hedge really pricked my ears, so much so I had to stop pricking out my tomato seedlings and scowl at the radio. I love Chris Beardshaw (more so since he joined BBC Scotland’s Beechgrove Garden programme!) but his distaste of this adorable shrub was very surprising. He suggested to the lady who asked the question, that should get rid of the hedge and plant something more interesting......!
I accept than many gardeners forget to prune forsythia immediately after flowering, which results in the flowers only growing on the top branches. And it is a boring shrub the rest of the year but as for being a ‘suburban eyesore’, I just don’t agree. Chris thinks they are too brash and feels that spring is about subtlety, as shown by bulbs scattered underneath trees. Perhaps Chris needs to see our daffodils in the orchard. There is no subtlety about Springfield bulbs in spring! This season they are the best they have ever been, probably due to Doc feeding them last autumn and the heavy rainfall all winter.
My view is that although we gardeners try to include plants that add winter colour and texture, few of us venture into the garden in winter to admire them. I look forward to the first shots of yellow to lift me out of the winter gloom and tempt me outside. It is cheerful and I like to feel cheerful. When the daffodil blooms are spent and the forsythia has been pruned, the yellow stars step back from the scene and other flowers take their turn centre stage. The transient nature of gardening is part of the appeal for me. Every plant has a season, it comes and then it goes. The trick is to keep the show going all year.
As for our forsythia, it is looking just as gorgeous and yes, it is shockingly yellow. When it gets bigger, we may need sunglasses to enjoy it. However, I have chosen not to include a photo of it here, just in case You Know Who drops by.
