Pushing my Persicaria

When we moved to Springfield there was an old, overgrown mixed border exactly where our new greenhouse was going to be built.  So, I rescued what I could and we finished up with pots full of plants, most of which I did not know the name of.  Later, a friend told me that one of the pots was a plant called Persicaria (Polygonum) and I have kept the clump going for years, from pot to ‘nursery bed’, then I split it and put back into pots, whilst I waited for a suitable final planting position.

Persicaria has a long flowering period from spring to midsummer and I have discovered that this plant is called a Knotweed for a good reason.  It has a vigorous habit and many people consider it to be a weed.  It is pretty though and has bottlebrush-like, tiny mauve-pink flowers packed tightly together on thin stems, above the semi-evergreen dock-like foliage.
 
Apparently this plant is an excellent choice for an acid, damp garden and the best planting position is at the edge of a pond or in a bog garden, where it quickly spreads, forming impressive colonies up to 1m wide.  However, in our garden it has always been planted in dry positions as well as pots which have received nothing more than a splash of water when remember.  It has survived and flowered, but has not taken off hugely.  I have been left wondering if planting it somewhere less hospitable slows it down so it cannot take over a border.

We have semi-shady gaps between the raised beds and trellis panels that screen the composting area.  I have planted ivy, ferns and a lovely evergreen honeysuckle which was recommended by a gardener at a plant fair.  We have great hopes for Lonicera japonica ‘Acumen’ because he said it is tough, really tough and offers more interest than more ivy.

Last year I also planted out a pot of Persicaria in the gap.  I admit that this was brave because it likes sun and damp and this area is shady a lot of the time and dry!  Doc raised his eyebrows and thought it would die.  He said I would be re-planting the area with something else.  However, this spring I am feeling smug because my Persicaria is a very happy plant and growing nicely and more importantly, is very well behaved.  Every time I go to the compost heap I give it a nod of approval.  I gave it a chance and it is doing well.

So my next experiment is planting a patch of the Persicaria in the very sunny, dry corner of the bed at the end of the lawn.  It is an area plagued with weeds and there are boring overgrown shrubs which belong on a roundabout, as well as ivy.  I am hoping the Persicaria will slow down the weed growth and at least bring some colour and compete with the ‘motorway service’ planting scheme. Anyway, it is worth a try.

Experimenting and trying things out is one of the great joys of gardening.  Most of us take the trouble reading the instructions on plant labels.  Whilst this advice is generally the best, sometimes I like to test the plant and push the boundaries.  After all, my Persicaria was free, I won’t lose money by trying clumps here and there and I might discover that far from being picky, this plant is much more versatile.

I will be keeping an eye on my Persicaria though.  Any sign that it is threatening other plants and it will be banished forever, but at least I am open minded.

Problem Solved

Working with what you have is the one of the first things you learn as a gardener and to succeed you have to be creative and be prepared to compromise.

We have a raised bed at the front of our property.  It has a privet hedge at the back of it to give us privacy from the road and a dry stone wall at the front.  It is well drained and gets a moderate amount of sunlight.

But it is not all good news.  The hedge bottom is a Mecca for weeds and other unwanted plants and there is a (supposedly attractive) perennial which is invasive to say the least.  We have been trying to kill this plant for years to no avail but we are very good at spotting it and digging bits out. There is a weak and sickly looking laburnum but we cannot bear to part with it until it decides it has had enough and there is also a small Christmas tree that may or may not come in useful if we ever get round to outdoor lighting at Christmas.

We have overhauled the bed, planted an ornamental Sorbus Sargentiana at the opposite end to the Laburnum and planted small shrubs, bulbs and perennials which should fill he bed with colour in a couple of years.  I am also adding some alpines to hopefully colonise the dry stone wall.  It’s not perfect but it has more potential than it ever has before and since it is our primary view from the kitchen window, we increasingly like it.  The only thing we don't like is the large manhole cover in the centre of the bed.

Doc says that the manhole cover must remain accessible because, apparently, it is one of the laws of drainage.  (Grrr.)   I considered positioning a large ceramic pot on the metal cover, perhaps containing a specimen shrub.  Doc said that once the pot was filled with soil and a shrub it would be difficult to move it.  He also asked me how we would climb on to the bed with the watering can and in any case, why would we want to climb up a wall with a watering can?  He had a point.  So, I looked for an attractive, plastic stone-look-alike large pot and a watering system.  The pots looked like plastic pretending to be stone and the watering solutions were too much hassle.  We must conserve water not use more of it.

Then, one morning when Doc was filling up the bird feeders, he had a Eureka moment.  A bird bath!  And so the deed is done. This morning I took delivery of a lovely grey stone bird bath for the birds to dip into when they have finished eating the nuts and pooping on our cars.  It took me a while to install the bath and not just because there was a hail storm.   There was an Alfred Hitchcock-sized flock of birds sitting in the hedge, already in their swimming costumes, hurrying me up every five minutes and there was enough packaging to start a packaging company.  However, we now have lots of useful polystyrene and bubble wrap to go with all the other useful polystyrene and bubble wrap in the garage.
 
Now all I need are some bark chippings to complete the disguise at the base - and some natural yogurt.  I am told that if I spread this on the stone it will help it age more quickly.  There was a time when yoghurt went with muesli.  At least I know not to spread yoghurt on my face.  I have enough wrinkles as it is.

Crazy perspective - the daffs look as big as the bird bath!

The transformation is not quite complete but it soon will be

 

‘April is the cruellest month...’

This is the poignant first line of The Waste Land, a poem written by T S Eliott in 1922.  The last line isn’t so cheerful either:  ‘.....I will show you fear in a handful of dust.’ 

Still, I must try to be positive amidst the apparent devastation in the garden.  It might not be as bad as it looks.  Doc’s mum says she can remember when, many moons ago, it snowed on May 1st.

I have to say though that I am stunned by the meteoric change in the weather.  Despite being British and supposedly used to changeable weather, my brain is experiencing great difficulty in registering that a week ago we were testing out our new parasol on the terrace in warm sunshine and today, there is a blizzard which is causing havoc.  It clearly is the reason why we never stop talking about the weather; we will be dining out on this for months.

A tree has blown over further up the street which has made the road very quiet, almost eerily quiet.  I expect it won’t be long though before it is chopped up and taken away.  With some patient seasoning, there is enough fuel to keep a log burner going for months - maybe it will be useful during next summer’s arctic conditions.  Well, you never know, do you?

The daffs have all been knocked over by the wind and the blooms have been crushed by the weight of the snow.  The damson blossom is no more.  Yesterday, I popped to a nursery to buy a tray of alpines and forgot to take them to the cold frame last night.  There was a couple of inches of snow on them this morning but being tough little plants, I think they will survive, though I have taken them to the greenhouse for a while.

The tomatoes and cucumber plantlets in the greenhouse are cosy in their propagators – not heated ones - but nestled together  these little pots of potential are fine.  On one of the raised beds, the sides of a cloche collapsed under the snow which has given the endive underneath a jolt but since these plants were overwintered, they should recover.

It’s a good job that I did not sow any early carrots, they will have to wait and be late carrots.  Actually, quite a lot will now be on hold but that is the weather for you.  Gardeners live by the weather and must be flexible.  The diary had been cleared to allow for a packed gardening Easter Weekend - hence the visit to the nursery to beat the rush - but I guess we will have to do other things and catch up later.  I am disappointed though because Easter is one of my favourite times for gardening. 

The chickens are not too happy and have stayed in the coop, all huddled together in one corner.  I don’t think it’s worth opening the run to let them out into the corral.  But you never know, the sun might come out this afternoon, melt the snow and then they can get some fresh air.  And maybe I could enjoy a cup of tea on the terrace, under the new parasol.

A Touch of Glamour

All peonies have a blousy opulence about them.  There are two types:  herbaceous peonies and tree peonies and the difference between them are the stems. Herbaceous peonies have stems that die right back in autumn and leave no trace until they re-emerge in the spring.  We have several un-named varieties at Springfield and my favourites are the over-the-top round, magenta and red blooms – some of which are bigger than my clenched fist.  However, much as I love them I have never managed to photograph a peony in flower.  Usually I forget to erect the plant supports and by the time I notice the flower buds it is too late.  They soon become so top-heavy that they collapse to the ground.  If it is rainy and windy, then you lose the flowers anyway, rather like roses lose their petals.  Still, I would not be without peonies and last autumn I put sticks in the ground so I know for definite exactly where they will emerge, so I can stake them appropriately.  Well that is the plan anyway. 

The stems of the tree peony are woody and stay above the ground all year.
 They grow into medium sized shrubs, to a maximum of 6 feet (2 metres) and are covered with lots of lush, beautifully divided foliage.  Each stem produces one large, exotic flower usually with a dramatic and very beautiful centre. Some varieties are scented and I have been told that they are very good as cut flowers. The colours are similar to those of the herbaceous peony; white, pink and red, but many varieties produce true yellow flowers.  I have a friend who, last year, tried to count the flowers on her tree peony.  She lost count at a hundred.

Peonies are supposed to only like chalky soil but ours have not read any text books.  We have mostly acid soil and they thrive.  I have also managed to successfully lift and divide them and this year we have a clump in a pot for a change, potted with a loam based compost.  It is a myth that herbaceous peonies don’t like to be moved; in fact it does them good after a few years.  If you make sure you keep the crown level with the surface of the soil, they are fine.  They are tough plants; they are fully hardy, like full sun and ours have rarely suffered from pests or disease.   Although people associate them with the hot, Mediterranean countries, they originate from Japan.

I was told that tree peonies really don’t like to be moved.  We inherited a straggly pale yellow specimen which was situated in the large raised bed at the front of the house.  The whole bed was overgrown and the peony had struggled for its own space and light for many years.  When we finally cleared the bed in the autumn of 2010, we took the decision to ‘have a go at moving it’.  The removal went well and we cut it back to encourage some new vigour.  Unfortunately, a few weeks later, the hard winter of 2010/2011 began and minus 15 C was a threat to everything and we feared the tree peony would die.  There was no re-growth throughout the entire growing season last year and being so busy, we  somehow we did not get around to digging up the remains of our tree peony. 

However, patience (okay, neglect) has paid off.  Another winter has passed and amazingly there is a 1 cm new tree peony shoot growing in the centre of the dead sticks!  Our tree peony may have life left in it yet.  We shall have to see.  I hope it is not a weed!  I will keep you posted and who knows, I may have photographs of all our peonies soon.

Hoorah for colour!

Actually, some of my shots yesterday were not that bad, though I suppose a shot of colour is easy prey.  It is the more subtle subjects I have difficulty with and masses of intense colour and white flowers are tricky in bright conditions.  But, as the song goes: ‘You can only get betta.....’  I must try harder.

Anyway, I love colour.  I grow pastel shades of blue, pink and lilac but my heart goes thump for the hot colours.  Give me reds, oranges and garish yellows any day.  Life is grey most of the time and life is too short to be understated.  I love it the most when the hot colours clash really badly.  (I can almost hear the Chelsea Flower Show set shouting at me!)

I always grow tulips in pots because they don’t last long in the ground here at Springfield.  The other advantages are that I can layer them up in a pot easily which produces a bold display and I can position the containers where they get noticed the most.  These are placed just by the composting area which I visit every day with kitchen scraps and/or hen scoopings.

The daffodils are better than ever and we are at the mercy of the weather with these.  A dry winter stunts flower production and the hard winter the year before last really set them back.  However, they are recovered now and look amazing this spring.  There are plenty of blind bulbs but there are enough to make a decent ‘host of golden daffodils’ and I have picked some for the house too.  I am grateful to whoever planted them and they have been here for over forty years.  Bulbs are such good value and are true stars of the garden.  If you want value for money and ease of care, go for bulbs.

As for the Hellebores, well I think I like them.  The colours are a bit subdued for me and the fact their flowers face downwards is irritating but they are one of the first flowers to show themselves after the winter.  They earn their place here and our woodland setting suits them.  I transplanted some clumps successfully from a shady area to a semi-shaded area at the back of the new raised bed by the compost area.  It is easier to see their detail here but I still have to bend down to get a really good look at them.  (Not as easy task with a troublesome hip joint.)

The snowdrops and crocuses have now died back now and the daffs and tulips are in full swing.  But the bluebells are already in the green and will be keen to show their faces soon.

Gardens are for sharing

I stole a half hour this afternoon and wandered round the plot with my camera.  The sun was shining, the sheets were dancing on the washing line and spring was calling me from every corner of the garden.  There was so much to look at, I did not know where to shoot next and as I clicked my way round (haphazardly it seems when I reviewed the results), it occurred to me that the impact of our garden is not only due to our efforts but the hard work of previous generations and our neighbours. 

The best feature of our garden by far is the view and we had no input into its creation!  It grabs your attention because our garden slopes down into the valley beyond, visitors often describe it as an 'infinity garden'.  Much of what we do ourselves is lost in the big picture, not that we mind at all.  We never tire of gazing across the hillside.  In the winter it is stark and dramatic, often with angry skies and in summer it is soft and hazy and peaceful.   Every season presents us swith something new to connect with.   

Our neighbours’ gardens are equally large and the boundaries on both sides are made up of many mature trees - some of which must have been planted a hundred years ago.  There are Privet and Hawthorne hedges which we cut low enough to enable us to chat with each other and share the resources. 

A bad photo of our gorgeous Magnolia Stellata

We have a lovely Magnolia Stellata which was planted by a former owner of Springfield.  It is currently a mass of white, star-shaped flowers and the scent follows us around the garden.  There can never be too many trees, particularly Magnolias and our acid soil suits them.  Both sets of neighbours have specimens, unamed because they are so old (the Magnolias, not our neighbours!)  Every year, just as our own beauty is fading, the others makes their entrance, with large, pale pink flowers which fill the air with a different perfume.   We love to borrow them and even if we planted a new variety, we would never see it reach such glorious maturity. 

Next door's huge magnolia which is all set to burst

On the opposite boundary, there is large Forsythia that we pass every day on the way to the greenhouse.   It is a shame that this shrub is unfashionable these days.  Maybe it is associated with suburbia or perhaps the fact that it is deciduous means people get bored with it when it has finished flowering.  But for me, the few short weeks its bright yellow brilliance assaults me is worth the lack of interest for the rest of the year.  We have planted one our own recently, further down the garden but it will be many years before it has such a wow factor.  Perhaps if people knew it was part of the olive family of trees, it would take on a much more exotic appeal.

A wonderful Forsythia spoilt by really bad photography

I need to take more time with my pics.  My excuse is that I only had half an hour today.  My mum used to say: 'Don't hurry, don't worry and don't forget to smell the roses......'  I should have listened to her more carefully.