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HOW DOES YOUR GARDEN GROW?
Joan Hawes 2001
How is it that so many gardens on TV and in gardening magazines look so mature when in fact they are often less than two years old? And I am not talking about the instant garden make-over. When I look back at the photographs (and there are a few) of our garden's progression to what it is now, I realise that our garden took well over eight years to look anything like mature. But then we did move from approximately 1/4 acre to 2 acres of meadow with only cuttings and divisions from the old garden, and a few packets of seed. They all looked rather insignificant when the snow finally melted and we planted them out. Unfortunately we didn't have thousands or even hundreds of pounds to throw at our new plot of land.
A small piece of the garden near to the house was already 'landscaped' and thankfully had two groups of three silver birch trees in it. This gave us valuable height but as for the rest it was flat, and green, and rather waterlogged.
Because of this boggy state we drained
about ¼ of the meadow ready for a vegetable patch and built
raised beds on about ¾ of the rest. Since then, up until the
latest years of persistent rain, we have endured many seasons of
drought. That's gardening for you. But of course, good drainage also
benefits drought conditions and so we never regretted our actions. We
planted one or two trees in the two main beds for instant height and
from seed I grew Aubretia, in mixed colours, Lythnan
salicaha (purple loosestrife) and Aruncus sylvestris –
the last two because of the wet conditions. Each bed was filled out
with these simple plants and a scattering of annuals, though to be
honest, I am not much good at annuals.
Groups of plants which I explored and exploited fully. Dicentra was one of the first A plant each of Dicentra spectabilis and D. s. 'Alba' from our old garden, which incidentally thrived in the shade of a 20' holly hedge on the south side and a very tall horse chestnut on the SW side. Of course here we had no shade. None at all. Nevertheless, undaunted I purchased numerous different forms of Dicentra exima and D. formosa from a lady in East Stoke who was beginning to sell plants from her greenhouse (now a thriving nursery and pretty garden). I love the Dicentras for their delicate, ferny foliage and their tolerance of most soils and conditions. They mix well with other plants and D. formosa and its cultivars, have a long flowering period. I created shade with such shrubs as the abused and yet useful Ribes sanguineum, Kerria japonica and Chaenometes japonica. I knew that they I would quickly bush out and they were easily obtainable from Woolworth. It was some time before we ventured out in search of garden centres and nurseries as we simply didn't have the time those first couple of years.
We had successfully layered rhododendrons in our old garden and these grew quickly along with Pieris floribunda 'Forest Flame' and several viburnums. Weeding was a major problem as also was dealing with the huge amount of lawn that surrounded the two beds. We also began a wild meadow and finding a machine that would deal with lawn and meadow has taken years of trial and error.
That first year we also planted two 100' mixed hedges. Within two years one hedge (the one we weeded), was 6' tall, the other suffered several false starts – apparently I planted it out in a crooked line and so my husband was forced to replant. Hawthorn, maple, dogwood, Rosa rugosa, and blackthorn. If we did it again no blackthorn, it suckers far too readily.
We also planted a spinney of native trees. Wild cherry, hornbeams, scotch pine, holly, dogwoods, wayfaring tree, wild service tree, oak (which grew almost as fast as the others) and ash to name a few. To save on cost none of these trees were more than 4' tall and most ranged between 6-12” as whips. Fourteen years on most trees are over 15' and many over 20'.
Another group of plants I invested in was Daphne, I had a Daphne mezereum, in my last garden, a very dark purple from my grandfather, who said – as I left with my booty – that it would most likely die as they were temperamental and did not like being moved. It thrived and self seeded so much that I ended up with three plants myself and gave many away Sadly its seedlings never liked this Lincolnshire garden and all succumbed to a slow death. I have Daphne tanguitica which survives in full sun and dry conditions in competition with a group of sun roses (Cistus), and D. odor a 'Aureomarginata' thriving – so far, to fill the air with a rich scent every spring. I lost a struggling specimen of Daphne blagayana which prefers a woodland setting and sprawls naturally, the white blooms giving off a sweet scent on still air in 1 the evenings. I must try that one again now that I have a better site for it. And from Beth Chatto's nursery a healthy and very slow growing Daphne retusa which even at 6-8” tall flowers every year. I lost a large specimen of D. x burkwoodii 'Somerset' after we removed a straggly quince from near its roots. Fatal. Normally if a plant doesn't like my garden I try something different but with Daphnes I persevere, determined that I can make them like me.
To me half the fun of gardening is how the garden evolves. Our attention is taken by a group of new plants and we are off, on a crusade to own every kid on the block.
We see a garden, or part of one, which inspires some design spark in us and out comes the drawing pad, hosepipe and spade. How many times do you find yourself wandering around your patch with a potted plant held aloft wondering, 'Now where will I plant this?' If this image is you, then you are a plantsperson and an evolving garden is your lot. Yes it would be nice to wake up after only a few months, to a beautifully manicured lawn and tidy beds burgeoning with colour.
In reality though, where is the fun in that?
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NOTES FROM A BARGAIN PLANT HUNTER
David Maine 1997
In her stimulating lecture Sheena Hesketh paralleled my plant purchasing philosophy when she stated that the seeds she obtained through the HPS Seed Distribution would have cost her £37 through retail outlets. Incidentally, the five plants I bought at the plant stall that day cost me under a fiver; I am sure they would have cost at least twice as much at a nursery. So my simple hypothesis is mat 'paying the earth' for plants or seeds is often unnecessary and sometimes unproductive.
When I moved into my present house ten years ago I only intended to stay for a few months. Accordingly, I bought some cheap plants to give some colour and cover. The local supermarket provided Potentilla fruticosa 'Elizabeth' for £1.20. For eight successive years it has bloomed tirelessly from spring to late autumn. Fired with enthusiasm for these floriferous wonder shrubs, I bought from nurseries four quality plants which ranged in price from £1.90 to £2.75. I tried to create a P. fructicosa hedge to mark a boundary. Alas, three of the quality plants petered out after a year or two. It is 'Elizabeth' that has survived and given me years of undiluted pleasure.
The vagaries in price came home to me
very forcibly this summer. In spring I was given some seed of Primula
florindae; to my amazement, it germinated and I pricked out
seedlings until I ran out of patience, pots and peat, but not plants
– so I composted the leftovers. On a visit to a specialist
nursery I noted P. florindae priced at £3.00 a plant
Admittedly. It was a healthy plant in a good-sized pot. On our plant
stall it was available for just 60 pence.
Aileen Stock's article on Nandina struck a chord. My personal plant catalogue tells me that I bought a Nandina domestica from Sprowston Garden Centre in Norwich in 1989. It was reduced from £9.75 to £2.00. (When I go away on holiday or a visit, my souvenir is, as often as possible, a plant). Pressure of work resulted in a lengthy neglect of the garden and the Nandina was forgotten and lost in a sea of perennials for years. When I rediscovered it, the plant remained virtually as the day I canadensis (or is it A. laevis?), where it sulked. I determined to give this bargain a last chance by taking it from its alkaline home and potting it up in a container with an ericaceous compost. I thought it could stand by the house door, Japanese style. Perhaps I would get growth and flowers and berries! When, a few days later, I marched down the garden with my spade it was only to find extraordinary growth: Nandina had doubled its height and, moreover, was looking decidedly healthy. Patience really is a virtue when dealing with plants. Maybe Nandina will prove to be a bargain after all.
Sheena mentioned during question-time that she normally plants out very small. This is a practice I like to follow. Plant a 15 cm silver birch and it will never require staking. One of the factors that governs retail price is the size of the pot. Perversely, the bigger the pot the more it costs. I say perversely because the longer a garden plant is in a pot so its quality diminishes. All too often its roots go round and round; there may be a thick scum of liverwort round the stem, and the plant has very likely endured stress from an inadequate watering regime. In addition, it becomes increasingly difficult to remove a substantial quantity of the growing medium – normally peat – which, if left intact, so often results in poor performance or death. Is there a case for demanding small plants in a soil-based compost?
On a recent visit to a garden centre I was tempted by Pieris f. 'Flaming Silver' for my acid raised bed. On offer was a small plant at £2.99 and a much larger specimen for £8.99. I suggest the practice of offering small plants for sale is to be encouraged.
I bought from the Group's Bulk Buying scheme (allow me to say “thank you” to Ruth Ward and others who tried so hard) some plants which duly arrived on the day before I went on holiday. So, risking all, I planted Heuchera 'Persian Carpet and H. 'Stormy Seas' in the open ground. Both survived a nasty frost and both are fine, healthy plants at the end of a difficult growing season. To conclude, the rash to the plant stall shows that we appreciate a bargain plant. If the term wounds anybody's sensibilities we could say synonym = Value for money plants'. Therefore, I move that small plants are the best buy and to pay more for a larger, older plant is not often an investment but rather an extravagance.
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UNDERCOVER AGENTS
Aileen Stocks 1996
Whilst visiting one of the gardens on the recent Cotswold trip I happened upon a clever method of 'name reminding' of plants in border.
My first impression of the garden at 'Red Gables' was relief from the intrusive army of labels so often encountered. Subsequently this gave way to frustration at my ignorance of what I was observing. Eventually, on enquiry, the owner generously gave access to her secret. Each unusual or outstanding plant had a flat stone or piece of slate at its feet and beneath this lay the clearly marked label, easily read as it was not faded or mud caked. This, oh so simple, method has yet another, even more important, role, as, when the plant dies down, be it summer or winter, there is the reminder of its hidden presence. As these labels are only rarely exposed they can be quite large and give even more information such as date and source for instance as well as the full name.
I am now engaging in the ancient country activity of stone picking so that I have a good selection ready for next season.
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BRICK RETAINING WALLS
Ruth Ward 1996
hardening on a slope has many advantages: there are often good viewpoints; drainage is usually good; and changing levels add interest to the structure of the garden. These changing levels are of I course enhanced by terracing and the retaining walls this requires. In our part of the country, where stone is not easily available, and brick is the common building material, there are many beautiful brick retaining walls built in a herringbone pattern. These fit in well with their surroundings, and provide ideal planting spaces for alpines and small treasures, and they look lovely draped with climbers, creepers and trailers.
We have a number of these walls and have discovered that they are not difficult to build, provided you start off with a level base. The first brick is placed at right angles to the line of the wall (so that its short end will be visible on the front-side),and on an edge at an angle of 45 degrees. The next leans against it, at the same angle, with its lower wide side coming half way up the previous one. Continue this for the whole row, so that I the bricks look a little like a row of falling dominoes, but are in fact quite firm and steady The second row is laid in the opposite direction with the bottom edges resting securely in the 90° angle formed by each pair of bricks below. If all the bricks are the same size, and the original angle correct, then the whole process is easy. If If variable bricks are used, then some compensation between wider and narrower ones is needed, but this looks more interesting, and provides valuable spaces for planting. As work proceeds, the earth behind must be firmly rammed down. Planting can be done as building progresses, or small plants can easily be be tucked in later, while all sorts of self-seeders will appear in the course of time. Don't think about the snails which will love their new homes – concentrate on the toads, frogs and beneficial invertebrates, that will be grateful and earn their rent. In fact there is also a bonus in the concentration of snails since a small amount of killer can be very effective in a small place.
'Reject” bricks, those that are weathered, chipped and broken, even a proportion of halves, are the ones to use for this type of retaining wall. We have found most of ours when working in the garden, and are told that some date back to the 13th century. Most come from the small local brickyards that used to abound in this area. This means that our walls are not only practical and decorative, but also an active piece of history.
They both document the continued human use of this site over a number of centuries, and preserve the evidence in a natural and living environment.
This has made me want to know more about these retaining walls: low old is their tradition, and how widespread their use? A number of inquiries has brought little information. Apparently nothing has been published either on retaining walls or on garden walls in general. Although the herringbone pattern of building can be found in Saxon stonework or the brick in-fill of timber frame buildings it has been suggested that these herringbone pattern retaining walls more probably originate in the 19th century, possibly with the availability of unwanted old brick as the Victorians rebuilt and improved the older houses. They are common in Lincolnshire and Leicestershire, where there are both slopes to be terraced and abundant bricks available, but I have no information about other areas. The only example I have come across (and greeted with excitement) was, in fact, built by my son in imitation of the ones in our garden.
If anyone reading this has such retaining walls and can tell me anything of their history, or has encountered them further afield, I should he very glad to hear from them. I am continuing to research and perhaps one day can give a further account.