In November and December we are like everyone else in cutting back and tidying up; though preferably not too tidy and not all at once. Some of the larger grasses are still attractive, as are the dead fern fronds, Sedum heads and a number of other seedheads and faded flowers. These we only remove as the wind and rain reduce them to a sodden tangled mass, but we always hope for a few days of frost to bring out their beauty. At this time we also like to cover as many of the flower beds as possible with shreddings, so that they can settle and begin to rot down before the spring bulbs come through. For a little while the borders look as neat and unused as a freshly tidied cupboard. This early winter period has its climax on Christmas day, when I make a note of all the plants in flower. There is a short list of those that are really flowering, like Rosa “Graham Thomas” Prunus autumnalis, Sarcococca and Lonicera purpusii and fragrantissima. Then, there is a much longer list of those that are over, but just hanging on to a few bedraggled flowers, and those that are barely showing a little colour, but give promise of beauty in a week or two. I enjoy this yearly walk around the garden trying to add many gems as possible but I am always conscious that the greater number are stragglers from the year behind us. There is darkness to all the plants, which can only be transformed by snow or hoarfrost, and a sense of life suspended.

This continues over the festive time, when glowing fires and family visits have a central place, and then about a week into the New Year, even before the lengthening of the days can be discerned, there is a perceptible shift. Soon after the New Year there comes a morning when I open the door and hear the robin singing high in the cherry tree; when the air has a different feel and scent of spring is close at hand.

A walk round the garden is soon imperative to check what is in flower. In addition to the winter flowering honeysuckle and Sarcococca spreading their scent we already have the orange clusters of the Witch Hazel, Hamamellis intermedia 'Delena”, and the first ragged yellow flowers of Hamamellis 'Arnold Promise”. On Christmas day I could make out a few Snowdrop buds and the very first of the golden Aconites. Now there are more and more everyday, and I am enthralled afresh by the way they come through the ground already in coloured bud and then open as the stems elongate. Today, 21^st January, I saw the very first Scilla tubergeniana pushing through their milky-blue buds, and the early crocus on the lawn.

This was as I was pruning the Chaenomeles speciosa “Nivalis”, back to the flower buds, which are just spreading their petals and will be much more visible, while the shrub itself will hug the wall more neatly, if pruned in this way. It grows on a south-west facing wall, and every year flowers from early in the New Year until after Easter. I also have unnamed red and orange Chaenomeles, which I treat similarly, but they must wait a little longer for pruning till the difference between flower and leaf is clearer.

Periwinkle is seldom without a few flowers and cheerfully covers a steep bank with a carpet of green throughout the dead end of the year. But now in late January we cut it back – with secateurs to be sure of not hurting any bulbs that were growing through. The first time it seemed far too drastic, but we were soon reassured as the new growth took over and provided a fresh green foil to the flush of flowers in early spring, without being tall enough to hide them. We take this opportunity, too, to pull out as much of the invasive and ill-behaved Vinca major as we can. On the same bank we have a patch of Trachystemon orientalis, which receives the same treatment. This has large rough rounded leaves, vaguely reminiscent of Brunnera, and rather coarse purple flowers in a conical raceme – not something for the front of the best border, but it flowers in early spring before retiring into the background, looks well in the shade of shrubs and trees, and like periwinkle crowds out most weeds and barely needs any attention apart from this annual cutting back.

Next came the ivy, pruned almost back to the wall it climbs, so that it can make a close covering, and not grow too wide and uneven. The climbing roses are all needing the same sort of attention too, to prepare them for their new growth and blooming, and as soon as they are done the apple and pear trees. But above all, this pruning feels quite different from the cutting back of last month: the difference between removing the old, no longer valid, and making space for the new and expanding. The actual work is almost the same, but the orientation and sense of purpose is completely different.

GARDEN MUSINGS ON NEW YEAR'S DAY

Margaret Brown 1994

Winter is my favourite time for gardening. It seems to be nature's way of slowing down all plant life in order for me to catch up on numerous 'jobs in waiting'. To me, there are many advantages: no energy sapping heat, no biting insects, no 'Gardens Open' to lure one away, and – best of all – no frogs!

The 'Head Gardener and I emerged, full of enthusiams, from a house still feeling the effects of Christmas into a crisp bright New Year's Day garden. Suitably festooned with warm clothing and the invaluable back-up kit of coffee flask, we each, like two robins, staked out our territory. He in charge of spade, fork, rake, wheelbarrow, compost, Growmore and bonemeal; for me, the secateurs. Was there ever anything more therapeutic than secateurs?

What luxury to enjoy several hours of thinking time accompanied, by almost deafening bird-song, as I snip away at Lonicera periclymenum, Jasminum nudiflorum, Rosa 'Maigold', 'Dorothy Perkins' , 'New Dawn' and the minute R. pimpinellifolia. The clematis are full of new growth and I never cease to be amazed at the range of plants already in flower. Helleborus atrorubens gives us its best ever show this year, and has done so since November. Several Hebes in shades of lilac and purple blend with the rich colour of Primula 'Wanda', and the fat little buds of Primula denticulata look surprisingly like tiny heads of calabrese as they push through the earth. My favourite winter flower has o be Viburnum x bodnantense 'Dawn' – guaranteed to be in flower by Christmas, with a fragrant scent as a bonus. Not all colour comes from winter flowers, however. Euphorbias provide many different hues from their leaves alone. Euphorbia characias ssp. Wulfenii stands tall with its lighter green heads bending modestly towards the ground, whilst the rich burgundy-wine hued E. amygdaloides 'Purpurea' appears regal in its warm-looking coat. Stipa arundinacea has now produced a range of browns, from gold to rich mahogany, whilst the conifer Cryptomeria japonica 'Elegans1 has taken on the hue of chocolate.

This year I have at least learned the lesson of previous years' disasters caused by itchy fingers with the secateurs. I found that the restraint exercised last year paid dividends, particularly with the Penstemons, Abutilons and hardy fuchsias. Lavatera 'Barnsley' is heading for a haircut but, as there is still plenty of time for weather, I shall resist. My namesake, Fuchsia 'Margaret Brown', looks very untidy but has doubled in size since I decided to leave the tidying up of her until warmer spring days. She is the source of much amusement for friends as we're not a bit alike – she is small and dainty! And she's younger! (raised by W P Wood in 1949).

Musing leads one along unplanned tracks as now I am thinking of the people in our garden: George & Cecilia, as I trim off the seed heads of their Lychnis coronaria 'Oculata'; Helen & Harry, as I try to stop Parochetus communis from taking over the garden. Sheltered by conifer and Viburnum tinus, it is already sporting several of its vivid blue pea-like flowers. Its other value is its success as a talking point for garden visitors. As New Year is a time for reflection, Corylus avellana 'Contorta' brings back memories of June & Bill, still with us in spirit, as we marvel at yet another crop of catkins dangling from its corkscrew branches. How pleased I was when Joan shared with us her trick of growing a clematis through it in in order to hide its least attractive attribute of mangled, untidy leaves in summer. Last year we planted a deep pink C. viticella 'Abundance', to act as a scrambler.

Finally, as we clock off for a coffee, we reflect that within the first twelve hours of 1994 we have well and truly smashed our New Year's resolution of not spending any more money on the garden. While I have pruned and mused, John has planted three Betula utilis var. 'jacquemontii', fronted by the red-stemmed Cornus alba 'Sibirica' and Bergenia cordifolia 'Purpurea'. Still awaiting planting are Mahonia x media 'Charity', Rosa 'Gertrude Jekyll', Prunus x subhirtella 'Autumnalis' and P. 'Shirotae'. Well, how could we resist -all half– price in the New Year sale!

PLANTS TO PUT A SPRING IN YOUR STEP

Judy Harry 1995

It is in the winter that I most envy people who have gardens large enough to offer a “landscape”. A small, flat garden like ours lacks the contours, the colour of bare trees and the vistas that make large expanses so telling during the months of winter.

The first signs of flowers appearing on perennials are therefore eagerly awaited, as they offer some sort of compensation in a garden that lacks winter grandeur. The first to show, often in December, are he pale-pink tufty flowers of Winter Heliotrope. No one in his right mind would plant this deliberately, and yet I did so in an area of deep shade where the ground is so full of tree roots that only the most invasive of plants would stand a chance of establishing there. The rather insignificant colouring of Petasites fragrans and its shockingly aggressive nature are more than compensated for by the sweet cherrycum-almond scent of the flowers. A small jugful beside the bed is one of the treats of January.

Near to the heliotrope there is an ever-increasing mat of foliage of the comfrey Symphytum ibericum, which when I first planted it was known as S. grandiflorum. I have sometimes wondered if it is actually S. tuberosum (they are very similar) but the appearance of the flowers so early makes the former name more likely. This has typical, though quite small, rough comfrey leaves and cream hanging bellflowers, each rimmed in a pretty peachy-pink. It keeps low and will put up with appalling conditions.

Pulmonarias also start to perform very early, particularly P. rubra and its varieties, and these undoubtedly do better if given reasonable conditions. So often we marvel at how well a plant does in an uncongenial spot and then, when it has been put in a better one, marvel at how much it thrives. I suspect that several lungworts in our garden are not seen at their fullest potential and, as a result, I go through phases of being completely unmoved by their charms but am usually won over by any that cheer up the garden in very early spring. Helleborus foetidus never fails to impress, however, and if I had to choose just one from this dangerously addictive genus, I think it would be this very ordinary native. I never cease to be delighted by the contrast between creamy lime-green flowers and almost black foliage, and the way the flowers cluster together. H. argutifolius, with its rather shinier leaves, also shouts for attention in the early spring, but the weight of flower and leaf makes mine loll about. At this time of the year it is difficult to stake it inconspicuously so, although in many respects it is the more obviously striking, it does not score so highly in the spring-flowering league.

By the time daffodils are in flower, there is the first flush of flowers on Lunaria rediviva, a rather neglected perennial version of Honesty. This forms a generous leafy clump with sprays of very I sweetly scented flowers in shades of pale or deeper mauve. These first blooms are on foot high stems, but there is invariably a second flush on much taller stems and in a quiet way it makes a very attractive border plant. I have received from the Seed Distribution some seeds of Pachyphragma macrophyllum, which looks to be very similar in habit and colouring. Phillips & Rix, in Vol 1 of Perennials, say the flowers are soon hidden by the rising foliage, but Janice Chambers, in the June are 1993 issue of The Bugle, speaks highly of this plant, and I shall take her word for it (if the seed germinates, of course!).

In the same batch of seed is Vancouveria hexandra which, if it grows, will produce a plant very similar to Epimedium. I am already a great fan of the latter so I thought it would be interesting to try out a variation on the theme. These are all members of the family Berberidaceae and they have in common rather appealing hanging J blooms which remind me of tiny Aquilegias. I was given a root of Epimedium X rubrum first, and this was soon followed by a yellow flowered one which looks most likely to be E. x versicolor H 'Neosulphureum'. The great attraction of these plants, in addition to the very charming flowers, is that they often have wonderfully marked and coloured young foliage. Add to this a very tough disposition and a tendency to colonise shady spots, and you have a thoroughly useful plant. I am still collecting them, having also acquired E. perralderianum, with its shinier leaves and later flowering habit, and a II small plant of E. x youngianum 'Niveum' which is making slow but determined progress. The appearance of flowers on any of these makes I me feel that spring is really on its way.

Neatly pretty, and a sure sign of spring, are the flowers of the double Lady's Smock ( Cardamine pratensis 'Flore Pleno ) which, in our case, comes in a very pale mauve. It is always a great relief when the Bitter Cress-like rosette of leaves produces its first flower stem, for then you know for certain that you still have something that you want and not something that you definitely do not. This plant produces little plantlets in the axils of the leaves, from which it can be propagated, Seed List, seed of an “improved” Lady's Smock called 'Pink Giant'. It certainly is a good form but I have not, as yet, slithered down dyke banks in this area to compare it with its wild counterpart.

Another plant I have acquired by way of the HPS Seed Distribution is Stylophorum lasiocarpum, whose yellow-staining sap proclaims its relationship to Greater Celandine. It too has yellow bowl-shaped flowers, but much larger than its relation, and interestingly shaped foliage. In theory it flowers in May, but the newly- raised plants bloomed persistently from the late summer on into the late autumn last year. It is for its spring flowers that I have it, however, so I hope that this year it will realise what is expected of it. There is none of the wildling Greater Celandine in this garden but we have a plant, raised from seed, of Chelidonium majus 'Laciniatum Flore Pleno' which has wormed itself into my affections. Above nicely cut, rather glaucous foliage, there comes a long succession of small, very double, yellow flowers which have great appeal. I believe this was one of E A Bowles' selections.

Continuing the yellow theme, the cheerful daisies of Doronicum could not be omitted from a description of spring-flowering perennials. All or any of them will add a splash of sunshine to the garden in April and May but, for some reason, they seem to be the Bane not so much of Lepard's as of today's gardeners. Are we so sophisticated that we cannot appreciate something as straightforward as a jolly yellow daisy? I do hope not.

4. April though is the beginning of real spring, at least for a poor none optimist like me, (you see I am trying very hard to fit in with the local ways). And if you were wondering about the article by Janice Chambers quoted in the last paper, then here it is, for your enjoyment. N.T.

Other Spring Pleasures

Janice Chambers 1993

April is rightly the month when the spring bulbs take centre stage in the appeal of the daffodils and tulips, have also been giving me great pleasure this month. Epimediums are in flower, and all the varieties are beautiful. They have just one drawback – the tendency for the old and dying leaves to entangle themselves around the flowers and the stems of the new leaves which are just emerging. To enjoy these plants fully it is very important to cut away the old leaves before the flowers and new foliage breaks through the soil. Of course, this is one thing that I nearly always forget to do, and so I have to resort to the use of nail scissors, and a very tedious job it is! All the varieties that I grow need this attention except for Epimedium perralderianum 'Frohnleiten' – a robust form, which makes large clumps of evergreen foliage. The leaves colour well in spring and autumn, with reddish tints, and the flowers are large and flat and a good clear yellow, with brown markings in the centre. But the very best thing about this splendid plant is that the flowers and the new leaves are pushed up on strong stems right through the old leaves, so that these are covered by the new growth and can die away gracefully out of sight, mind and nail scissors!

Pachyphragma macrophyllum has been in flower this year since February Now in April the white flowers, which look like a larger Aversion of our native Lady's Smock, are just beginning to fail. As the flowers finish, the leaves start to expand so that for the whole of the flowers finish, the leaves start to expand so that for the whole of the summer a considerable area at the base of a red-stemmed willow is covered in large, round, pleasantly green leaves, making a good weed free patch.

Last summer I bravely attacked our Photinia x fraseri 'Red Robin' with the secateurs and now, in April, I have my reward for such cruelty. The whole shrub Is covered in sealing-wax-red new leaves which are splendidly set off by the grey-green leaves and blue flowers of the upright rosemary behind it, and the grey holly-like leaves of the large Olearia macrodonta beside it. I must remember, in the autumn, to plant a few bulbs of those gorgeous lime-green daffodils as a finishing touch for next spring.

The new leaves of Euonymus fortunei 'Emerald 'n' Gold' totally change the colouring of this small and useful shrub. It seems to lose a lot of the emerald and to become a bright gold, glowing away at me as I gaze out of the kitchen window over the washing-up. Next to it is silky bronze of Carex comans (or is it C. petriei?) and the grey of Hebe pinguifolia 'Pagei' give a soft background colouring to the bright leaves of the Euonymus.

The first of the Artemisias to come back to life in the garden this fear has been the prostrate and spreading Artemisia stelleriana 'Mori'. Its very flat, very white and felty leaves are wandering about between our small collection of dwarf conifers. One arm is trying to climb the grassy leaves of Kniphofia 'Little Maid', another is protecting the tiny purple shoots of Platycodon grandiflorus mariesii.

The Valeriana phu 'Aurea' which I planted last year is now almost brighter than the daffodils near it. The totally gold leaves have been expanding and getting brighter almost every day and, although the plant is in a sunny spot, it is showing no sign of scorch. The large mound of green leaves of Aconitum 'Ivorine' planted next to the valerian is a good contrast, showing up the gold leaves to advantage. April is certainly the month for this plant as it will quite soon begin to turn a light green and put up only moderately interesting white flowers.

Perhaps the plant which I have most enjoyed this month is one that has already finished flowering. In what had until recently been a nasty weedy and mossy patch – a long triangle, formed by conifers on two sides and a paved path on the third, we have planted a Mahonia x -media 'Charity1 which was a gift from friends. Now this unprepossessing small area is dominated by this beautiful shrub with its shining green holly-like leaves. Nothing good grew here before; now here are self-sown cowslips, oxlips, and Pulmonarias and the golden Lamium is spreading around. The sight of this shrub growing so well and so happily has made April a really good month to be in the garden.