On This Page. Erigeron Karvinskiianus. R.W. - The Perfect Perennial. G.P. - Taking A Chance With Cistus J.C. Starry-Eyed About Asters. J.H. - Big Is Beautiful. M.B.

1. Sometimes it is just a single simple plant that is all we need, at least this one has an appreciative friend in Ruth Ward N.T.

ERIGERON KARVINSKIANUS

Ruth Ward 1994

On a walking holiday in Madeira this February I met a friend from home. Beside the stony paths there were airy, hazy hummocks, and out of crevices in the rocky cliffs tumbled smoky drifts. Not a brilliantly showy plant, but a great friend of mine: Erigeron Karvinskianus (synonym = E. mucronatus). This is a spreading lax stemmed plant, originating from Mexico, which seeds itself on old walls and in odd dry corners. Like many self-seeders, it will find itself an unexpected cranny where one would never have thought of planting anything We have one in a crack of the tarmac by the garage door, that is a constant source of pleasure. Unlike some others, however, it is neither invasive nor difficult to dislodge, should it be unwelcome. The leaves are narrow, lance-shaped, hairy and evergreen; they form a neat base to the multitudinous small flowers floating above them. These open white and fade to pink and then mauve, a charming and subtle variation that adds to the light and airy appearance. It could probably smother the more delicate alpines but, in the relative rough and tumble of a dry-stone or brick wall, it shares he space good-naturedly, allows spikier plants to grow through and hide their stems, or gives a soft background to species tulips. In the course of the summer it can also spread to fill the gaps left by earlier flowerers that have come and gone. With us it usually figures on the list of plants in flower on Christmas Day, and this year continued until February frosts cut it back, to start again in mid-May. A care-free and rewarding friend.

2. But if you are going to enthuse why not pick a really special group. Here is George Parker on a group of garden aristoctrats which are infact fairly simple to grow and sould be more seen. N.T.

PEONY – THE PERFECT PERENNIAL?

George Parker 1994

Thinking about what makes the perfect plant, one comes up with a great many 'F-words': flowers, foliage, fruits, form, fragrance. These are attributes which delight the garden visitor; the grower has an interest in other qualities: toughness, an undemanding nature, freedom from pests and diseases. If one applies these criteria to hardy herbaceous perennials, which are the contenders for the accolade?

The plants that came first to my mind tended to be principally architectural ones, strong on foliage and form. The splendid Macleaya cordata, which combines strength with beauty, has pale stems clothed with deeply lobed, rounded leaves and topped with a haze of spires of tiny flowers; a strong candidate, this, though inclined to spread. Only lack of hardiness rules out the shrubby Melianthus major, with its poised pinnate leaves of sea-green and blood-red bracted flowers. The acanthuses are noble plants, especially A. mollis whose lobed leaves so pleased the Greeks that their stone-sculpted form topped the columns of the finest buildings (yet I recall a Hardy Planter asking a visiting speaker how this plant might be eliminated from her garden!) For flower and fragrance, one thinks of lilies, with Lillum regale – as its has white inside but with shades of pink to purple on their backs, are at once utterly beautiful yet of a simplicity to grace a cottage garden.

Yet it is another plant associated with cottage gardens that, finally, I nominate as the perfect perennial – the peony. Admittedly, it is not the one most often seen, P. officinalis in its deep red, double form, that I would choose – though a plant of that is a magnificent sight in May, with some of its huge, frilled globes of flowers bending their heavy heads whilst other buds are splitting open, green and red, and the grass below is stained crimson with the shed petals of those that first flaunted their loveliness. The single peonies have, it might be said, a beauty attained by no others – ethereal in pale colours, majestic in deepest crimsons, and always with a central boss of golden stamens. Among the garden hybrids, derived probably from P. lactiflora, it is these magnificent blood-red singles to which I pay my homage. Evocative of the elegance and imperialism of the Edwardian age in which they were bred, such varieties as 'Sir Edward Elgar' and 'Lord Kitchener' command my silent adoration.

Almost all of the species peonies are single flowered and many have a delicate, if transitory, loveliness. A favourite of many is P. mlokosewitschii, whose tongue-twisting name has become in common parlance, “Molly-the-Witch”. Its globes of delicate lemon are a source of brief joy in Spring and if its charm lay in these alone, it might not find a place in any but the larger gardens. But beautiful foliage is a feature of peonies, and that of the Witch is among the best: the glistening dark red shoots push through the ground before winter has gone, and develop through a warm dusky purple into soft grey-green clumps, to remain attractive until they finally succumb to frosts.

Quite different in leaf is P tenuifolia which as its name indicates, has foliage so finely divided that it might be termed feathery. Its single flowers are of dark crimson. A native of the dry grasslands of SE Europe, it is hardy and easy to grow, yet rarely seen. There is a pale pink form and also a rare double.

The fresh green and lightly dissected leaves of P. veitchii are also luxurious throughout the summer and, in late Spring, the single, silky flowers of deep pink nod delicately above them. In the variety woodwardii the flowers are of a singing rose pink. In autumn the small, fat seed pods split open to reveal glistening bluish seeds. The fruits of peonies are indeed a feature of the family – not as showy as those of the Baneberries or the Gladwin Iris – but attractive, nevertheless, and colourful on occasions, for the small, unfertilized seeds are of brilliant pinkish red and these make an eye-catching contrast to the larger, round black beads by their side.

If one eschewed the garden hybrids and grew only the species peonies there would be beauty enough in one's garden – beauty of flower, foliage and form – and most make few demands on either the garden or the gardener. Appreciate some humus added to the planting hole and, on hungrier soils, an annual autumn mulch plus a scattering of bonemeal. Hardy, they do best in sunny spots or in dappled shade. Care needs to be taken not to plant the crowns too deep, for this inhibits flowering. In some damp gardens they may be susceptible to fungus but, for most folk, they will outlive the gardener, however young he be. Some, though, are a little more demanding. The exquisite P. cambessedesii, whose deep pink flowers rise above grey-green leaves with crimsonpurple undersides, is a native of the Balearic Isles and requires shelter from late spring frosts, and plenty of summer sun. A sheltered spot is needed, too, for P. clusii, whose home is Crete; its pure white flowers, among the first to appear, are carried on reddish stems.

Tempting though it is to stay with the species, it would be a pity not to grow some of the many hundred garden varieties of this perfect perennial. Some of the singles have already been mentioned, though not White Wings', a much admired beauty with some fragrance. The opulent doubles and semi-doubles may be had in a range of shades from the purest white of the scented 'Duchesse de Nemours', through maroon of 'Buckeye Belle', an American hybrid with an ugly name but a lovely flower. The 'Imperial' varieties may seem too contrived for the purist, though they elicit gasps of approval from most of us. In this form, the flower is single but the stamens have become narrow petals (technically 'petaloids'). The name of one of the most popular, 'Bowl of Beauty', describes the general effect, for its outer ring of bright pink petals do indeed form a bowl which seems filled to the brim with a rosette of tightly-packed lemony-cream petaloids. It is, without doubt, a striking bloom. Somewhat less striking (and thereby arguably more desirable) are the whites, such as the very fragrant 'Cheddar Cold' (the gold, being the petaloids), the soft pinks, such as 'Evening World', and those with self-coloured petaloids, such as the dark rosyred 'Colonel Heneage' (Surely, there is a Lincolnshire connection here, for was not a Heneage once the Lord Lieutenant of our county?)

Apart from the small P. clusii, which attains 25cm., most herbaceous peonies reach about 60-75cm. In height, and slowly build up into clumps. Somewhat more robust, is P. witmanniana, whose ample, shining leaves show good spring colour. The single flowers are of very pale yellow and it displays crimson filaments in the centre of its boss of golden stamens. This grows to 1m. In its native Caucusus it is found in alpine pastures and in beech woods and for this, as indeed for many of the single-flowered peony species, it is often suggested that it looks best when grown among shrubs.

And, though to write about shrubs would be to stray from my theme of the perfect perennial, I must at least mention the tree peonies. Mainly varieties of P. suffruticosa, a wild Chinese species, they are of great elegance and beauty. A form known as 'Rock's Variety' would be the one to have, could hands be laid on it. More homely, but still desirable, are the species P. delavayi, bearing golden anthered flowers of deepest crimson, and P. d. var. 'Ludlowii' with clusters of bright yellow saucers amid excellent foliage, and abundant knobbly seeds. Fresh seed (and patience) is a means of adding peonies to ones plot but, could money be better spent than in acquiring, as soon as possible, the choicest species of the perfect perennial?

3. Or you could try being a little adventure, and you never know but you may then grow into a partenership with a group of plants that become truely special to you , as Janice Chambers here explains. N.T.

TAKING A CHANCE WITH CISTUS

Janice Chambers 1994

I am always looking for evergreen, ground-covering and weedsuppressing shrubs which are also good looking and garden worthy; this has recently led me to grow members of the Cistus family.

Cistus need a sunny position and a well-drained soil. Although our soil contains no sand or grit, most of our garden faces west and has areas of good drainage and, as in normal years the rainfall in the area will be low, I thought it would be worth growing some of the more hardy varieties of this family. Cistus flowers last only one day but are produced in great abundance over several weeks and, after the flowers have vanished, one still has the evergreen, usually sage-green, leaves which contrast well with the flowers and leaves of other shrubs.

I began by buying two plants of Cistus 'Silver Pink', described in Hillier's Manual as exceptionally hardy. It has the usual Cistus leaves, pale pink flowers and a low, spreading growth. My two plants have now grown into each other around an Hypericum 'Hidcote'. As some of the hardier varieties seem to be those with white flowers, I next purchased Cistus x cyprius, C. x corbariensis and, from a stall outside a roadside cafe, two plants just called 'Snow White' (According to The Plant Finder this is a variety of Cistus x laxus). C. x cyprius will eventually become a large shrub, perhaps two metres high and nearly as much across; it has white flowers with a maroon blotch at the base. Its leaves and stems have a dark purplish cast and I am growing it with a pink-flowered broom in the hope that the Cistus will take over the space that the short-lived broom will leave.

C. x corbariensis and C. x laxus are both low growing and wide spreading. I find 'Snow White' a most superior plant – the flowers are large and have a boss of yellow stamens, the leaves are a brighter green than normal, and it seems to have a most excellent constitution. My two plants are growing in front of a group of Potentilla fruticosa 'Katherine Dykes', and I am very pleased with the combination.

Although C. x purpureus is not one of the more hardy forms I have taken a chance and have planted it on a west-facing raised bed for the sake of its lovely large crimson flowers, with purple blotch at the base of the petals, and their cluster of yellow stamens. The leaves, which pick up some of the purple, also have an attractive wavy edge.

The Helianthemums are also members of the Cistaceae but are very much smaller and thus suitable for low walls, rockeries and raised beds.. Everyone grows them and we all have our favourites. I especially like them in early spring when small daffodils grow through evergreen leaves. I purchased my first two shrubs, unnamed, from a charity sale; one is certainly H. 'Wisley Primrose', with its greygreen leaves and clear yellow flowers. The other, having orange flowers with a brown centre, might be H. 'Ben Heckla'. Recently I bought a double form, H. 'Boughton Double Primrose' but, so far, it is a very shy flowerer. When they do arrive, the flowers are just like a very miniature shrub rose, with the petals packed together. My favourite to date is H. 'Henfield Brilliant'; it has terracotta coloured flowers, grey-green leaves, and a desire to flower itself to death.

Another group of shrubs in this family, coming between the above two in respect of size, are the Halimiums. At the moment I have three of these. Halimium umbellatum is a dwarf shrub with a dense, prostrate habit and is very obviously related to the Helianthemums. In June it covers itself with white flowers which are large for the size of the plant. H. ocymoides looks more like a small Cistus, with a wide, spreading shape on woody stems. The sage-green leaves are wavy-edged and narrower than those of a Cistus. The flowers provide the yellow which is missing in its larger cousins. Each petal has a brown blotch at its base. H. lasianthum has similar leaves and flowers but its manner of growth is very similar to that of a rosemary, spreading outwards and upwards from a central point. Because of this it does not cover the ground and so is not as good as a weed suppressor but, to compensate for this, it has the most elegant of shapes all the year round and looks very good in front of some densely-leaved shrub such as a conifer.

On my shopping list for this year is X Halimiocistus 'Merrist Wood Cream'. This is another small shrub with Cistus-like grey-green leaves. The flowers are pale cream and the blotch at the base of each petal is crimson and is surrounded by a yellow stain. This is a really lovely plant and I am looking forward to adding it to my small collection of Cistaceae.

4. Judy Harry on the other hand would like us to think about some old favourites, which could do with a helping hand back into the forefront. N.T.

STARRY-EYED ABOUT ASTERS

Judy Harry 1994

It calls for more than a streak of obstinacy to keep growing 'Michaelmas daisies” in the drier parts of Lincolnshire. All too often, as happened this July, a spell of hot, dry weather reduces the foliage of the Aster novi-belgii varieties to mildewed and browned apologies for border plants. But, and it is a but worth pausing for, if the plants can be kept in a reasonably healthy state, the gardener will be rewarded in September and October with sprays, spires and clouds of the most beautifully coloured daisies that persist in many cases until the frosts bring them to a reluctant close. I would therefore make a plea that gardeners make the effort to grow these lovely plants, not only to enliven their gardens at the end of the season, but also to keep alive some of the hundreds of novi-belgii varieties which were bred during the first half of this century.

Since it is dryness at the roots that puts the plants under stress, it helps if the root run can be kept moist. The easiest way is to dig copious amounts of moisture retaining compost into the site and to reduce the amount of root itself. In other words, if the clumps are lifted and divided every spring, with only the young pieces being replanted, their uncongested and healthy roots are able to make the most of the moisture available. This works particularly well with the largeflowered varieties like 'Fellowship', a soft pink semi-double, or the powder-blue 'Marie Ballard', while the handsome white 'Albanian' (thought by some to be one and the same as 'White Ladies) definitely needs to be treated in this way. Some of the varieties listed as novi- belgii seem to have in their breeding those species which give them better resistance to mildew and, in my garden, the very late flowering 'Sonata', with its open sprays of single blue flowers, seems almost immune to this problem. Another very healthy hybrid, which has A. cordifolius in its blood, is 'Little Carlow' which I would argue is one of the very best. The tall branching stems bear such pyramids of blue flowers that one could not guess their number. It was another cross, this time with A. dumosus, that gave us the many dwarf varieties that are usually classified as novi-belgii types. These are usually easier to keep healthy as less demand is made on the root system. They make useful front-of-border plants as long as there is something just behind them to give interest during the summer months when they are, of course, just mounds of foliage. I grow 'Professor Anton Kippenburg' which carries masses of lavender flowers, and the slightly taller 'Jenny', which just asks to have brightly coloured butterflies come and pose on it. They often do, of course, because all the border asters are favoured by the autumn butterflies.

A very long list of good varieties could be paraded before the sceptical reader, so it is probably time to acknowledge that there are, of course, Michaelmas daisies that just do not get mildew, notably the varieties of A. novae-angliae. These are often accused of lacking charm, which is rather unfair. A brave stand of, for example, Barr s Pink', backed by a pale pink Lathyrus latifolius and partnered by the graceful wands of Lavatera cachemiriana in our garden could be awarded many complimentary terms, including “charming”. These •types certainly tend to be tall, leafy, and of stiffer bearing, but they carry masses of flowers and include among their number the really good white 'Herbstschnee . Also in this group is the well-known, luminously shocking-pink variety 'Andenken an Alma Potschke1 which, as the nurserymen put it, “sells on sight”.

It is the rough texture of the leaves that protects this group of plants from the ravages of mildew, and the same characteristic gives protection to the darling of the garden writers, A.' x frikartii 'Monch . The same stubbornness that makes me grow novii-belgii also prevented me from buying a plant of 'Monch'. More fool me, for when I eventually succumbed, I found it to be everything that the writers proclaimed: floriferous, healthy, persistent, even self-supporting. The daisies in this case are large, lavender-blue with good gold centres; other varieties from the same stable, also named by their breeder, Frikart, in the 1920's, after famous mountain peaks: 'Eiger' and 'Jungfrau', but these are available from very few outlets.

Also lauded by the cognoscenti are the cultivars of Aster amellus, which have been described as “beautiful but temperamental”. These must be planted only in spring and, when I tried one, it did not take kindly to my garden or my ignorance – or both. The same fate unfortunately befell A. thomsonii 'Nanus' which, when grown well, is I endlessly in bloom with starry lavender flowers.

Producing a galaxy of white stars is the very easy-to-grow Aster tradescantii, probably the oldest of our border asters. I was given a plant of this from an abandoned garden where, I was told, it produced delicate stems about two feet tall. Once it had a whiff of decent soil and more space it turned into a massive four-footer with a root system that filled the ground with such a mat of fibre that nothing else had a chance anywhere near it. Having said all that, it continues the season well on into October, and the rather silky flowers are lovely for cutting. I found that if the leading flower was removed (for it opens considerably earlier than the rest of the spray), the remainder would stay fresh for a long time. Flowering at about the same time is a plant that I got from an HPS European °Plant Search, A. ericoides 'Erlkonig', which has lots of tiny pink daisies in long-lasting sprays and, although I find it to be less vigorous than some types, and the slugs trek miles to find and devour it in the spring, it is worth growing if only for its lateness of flower. The tiny heather-like leaves give many of which are popular with flower arrangers.

Also small-flowered and small-leaved is A. horizontalis whose dark stems bear the characteristic horizontal side-shoots that give this species its name. The flowers are white, but they have deep pinkypurple centres so that the overall effect is of a soft pink cloud. It is a lovely plant and worth leaving for the frost to coat with rime on winter mornings. Christopher Lloyd allows an informal hedge of this plant to lean over an edging of Persicaria vaccinifolia – an inspired partnership. Gertrude Jekyll, a generation or so earlier, used the rather floppy tendencies of A. divaricatus, whose spidery white flowers appear as early as August, to overlay the bold leaves of her favourite Bergenia, thereby ensuring that a patch of ground had interest from August on into the winter and all through spring.

Wherever and however the border asters are planted, they will extend the season far into the autumn and will fill the garden with attractive blooms in lovely shades and colours at every height from six | inches to six feet. If you have been guilty in the past of a certain amount of prejudice towards these very varied plants, perhaps you will now take a second look; I do hope so.

5. But at the end of the day maybe it is just one simple quality that gets some plants noticed, and gives them a common theme, as Margret Brown shows here. N.T.

BIG IS BEAUTIFUL

Margaret Brown 1997

Hardy Planters frequently enthuse about “good doers”; I would like to enthuse about three plants, all acquired last September, which in their first year have been an absolute delight. All were purchased from HPS members on visits to their gardens in either Essex or Somerset.

My first plant, Helianthus salicifolius, has now reached more than 2m in height and has five straight steins of narrow, drooping, mid-green leaves creating a “waterfall” effect. In autumn it produces quite small and insignificant yellow daisy-like flowers on top of these magnificent stems. This is a real “statement” plant and has been greatly admired all summer, providing a totally different form from any other plant in the garden.

A plant of similar height but with very different appearance is Althaea cannabina (no, we're not cultivating “hash”). Although an extremely tall plant it does not have to be at the back of the border as it is a “see-through,” being very light and delicate in appearance. Another late bloomer, it is covered in sugar-pink flowers about 4cm in diameter which appear in late August and go on and on.

My third choice is big not vertically but horizontally. Geranium x riversleaianum 'Russell Prichard' was bought as a very small plant but in nine months became a bright magenta carpet covering a metre square although only 25cm high I have had to divert it around some of its neighbours – Heuchera 'Pewter Moon' and Penstemon digitalis 'Husker Red'. It started flowering at the end of May and is still blooming in early September. In midsummer I estimated that it was bearing some three hundred flowers.

All three plants grow in sandy loam; because our soil is fine, we plant in pockets of well-rotted manure from a local stables. In spring the bed was dressed with mushroom compost in an attempt to conserve moisture.