Winter Light

I was listening to a conversation on the  radio travelling along the M20, between two ladies, one who loved January, the other claiming she found it dull and difficult and for her the year should begin in June.

I wanted to shout – open your eyes – look around you at the beauty of winter. I was frustrated at not being able to stop to photograph the dramatic scenes as we whizzed towards a grey, threatening sky; a steely-grey with a promise, no, a certainty of rain.

Behind us a watery sun shone, lightening the trunks of the wayside silver birch trees, making their purple twiggy stems an even stronger contrast. Old Man’s Beard shuddered in the wind. A small copse of ochre-yellow willow glowed – a stronger comparison against the backdrop of lush pale green pastures. Red cornus stems (at least I think that was what they were), and small crab apples hung like Christmas baubles. Some of the scrubby hazels sported tight buds, whilst others had mature catkins dancing in the breeze.

Open your heart to nature – look at your surroundings. There is a wealth of winter beauty to be seen.

And to quote @Littleashgarden from Twitter – ‘There is so much beauty to be seen in the details of winter…'

Shades of Yellow

Many years ago I read (sadly I don't remember where), that as an 'immature' gardener, yellow would be a favourite colour and as you 'matured' you would forget yellow in your garden scheme.

I can only say I never matured. I love yellow, every shade of it. Lemon, pale, marmalade (lemon of course), deep, vibrant - the old cliché 'it makes me smile' comes to mind - and it does, the colour makes me feel warm, content and happy.

A 'mature' gardening colleague hated my love of yellow, more so the tendency to mix it with pink. That memory leaves me with a grin on my face.

A low hedge of golden-leaved origanum, tumbled across a wood chip path, behind which grew a row of clove pinks. She (above mentioned 'mature' gardening colleague) refused to weed this part of the garden, declaring it vulgar. Hey-Ho.  

I recall her name each every time I see a mix of yellow and pink in the wild, verges alive with the glorious clashes of nature, and think what do you know.

Back to The Haphazard Gardener

This was one of the original borders that had been in place since my childhood. The backing to the border was a line of different shrubs, most of which were still in place when I gave up the garden in 2005. It was north facing, the ever maturing shrubs made some its depth very shady, but this gave many new planing opportunities to me.

The darker 'blob' on the right hand side in the distance is one of two yews that Phil planted in the early 1990s. It was to be 10 years until the two met and joined to form an archway.

This border ran the length of the back lawn, from nearby the garage to the greenhouse in the distance. This greenhouse was the one that Arthur built in the 1930s. The aluminium and glass had been replaced but the brick base and concrete interior was exactly the same...it was my favourite greenhouse.

Again on the right hand side the Yew border is not even dug and the tiny yew trees are lost in the greenness, only the white of the paving slabs used to hold back the soil where the sandstone was taken give me any idea of what beauty was to come.

You can read the story of our transformation in The Haphazard Gardener.  www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1781764131

Oh happy days....

Rosa 'Sympathie'

A stunning pillar rose for those with slightly less space; although if you bend those stems horizontally you will be blessed with many upright stems from their branches. This is not a rampant rose, it is one which is fairly well behaved.

Rosa 'Sympathie' in shade

Glossy dark green foliage compliments the cluster of buds that ensure flowering over several weeks. A delicious fragrance emanates from the deep red flowers. Fully double and cupped in shape this is one rose that will tolerate shade as well as sun. 

Rosa 'Sympathie' grown in full sun

Growing around the trunk of a tall palm in our Italian garden, where the only light was sunlight reflect off the driveway it flowered more prolifically that where it was planted in full sun: in this position we found that heavy rain could spoil the petals.

More Rosa 'Paul Transon'

Rosa 'Paul Transon'

I wrote about Rosa 'Paul Transon' in my post on the 14th February this year. Now I am reminded once more of the beauty of this rose, as it's light apple fragrance fills the air.

   I believe the colour can be variable...even on my climber there are differences in the fullness and hues of the flowers. The fragrance is described by many as of 'apple' or of 'tea'. It must be fairly strong as I can pick up the scent. 

   It enjoys the full sun of Italy as much as it did the dappled shade of a cherry in my Sussex garden.  The soil here is thin and stony which seems to contain the more rampant growth of a rambler.

   The RHS site lists many 'pests' that could be attracted... with me it is one of the few that doesn't succumb to blackspot, and despite the dryness of the soil does not suffer with mildew.

   I do not know the bug which enjoys the pollen, it is widespread in this part of Italy and becomes almost 'drunk' with pollen.  I believe that they chew the buds before they open. 

   It is a Barbier cross between R. Wichuraiana and L'Ideal. It gives a scatter re-bloom if not pruned too severely.

   Rosa 'Paul Transon' is a rose to consider if you have the space. 

The White Hydrangea

The White Hydrangea - well technically it isn’t white, from the tight buds of the early flowers a greenness like jade jewels nestles deep within the dark green leaves.

Hydrangea bud

Developing bud

Further development

Nearly there

Not a true bush, several cuttings growing strongly

   I was surprised to see Hydrangeas growing so well in the north of Italy where I live; large heads (for the most part) of sturdy mops.  A few lace caps can be seen too but the mop heads or hortensia as the Italians call them are the norm, and seen in most gardens and I would guess shared. You only have to stop and admire a garden and the owner, if around will proffer a cutting or ten.

   Shades of blue and pink are most commonly seen. We moved two sad looking blue flowered mop heads to a more shady position to join a pink flowered one already in situ, they reverted quickly to pink, as well. Now I understood that, but for the newly moved and recently divided plant, it reverted to white and two years later has mellowed to a delicate pearly pink.

   The precise instructions for propagation were ignored (this is usual practice for me) – with bottom leaves stripped, the top pinched out and a neat cut beneath a leaf axil the cuttings were pushed into a circle of soil where another plant had failed. Within weeks several had become firm in the ground, several others had not survived.  The pictures show the joy this years’ flowers have brought.

   The only way to control the colour of a hydrangea is to grow it in a pot. The colour of the flower will depend on the soil in which it is grown. Hydrangeas flower blue in acid soil.  Less acidic soil gives pink flowers.

   In Italy the Hydrangea will start to flower as early as April in a warm spring and continue on with their aging hues until autumn.

   Cultivation requirements suggested for the UK are different in the Italian gardens that I have seen them grow, frequently bowing their heavy heads as the warmth of the sun takes its toll. Deep and fertile, is not how you would describe the soil in our garden, well drained yes, but thin and lacking goodness. They also require plenty of water in dry periods. The word hydrangea means water vessel.

   In our town they prune the flower once it has faded.  I was horrified when I saw this, and although we rarely suffer frosts in the way the UK may, there can still be extreme cold.  They rarely remove inner branches, just a random deadheading, leaving long stems that heighten the shrub each year.  However their method of pruning does nothing to lessen the number or size of the flowers.

   I still prune mine as I would in the UK, not removing any flower heads until the spring except if they are top heavy and weighed down.

Diamonds drip...

An except from The Haphazard Gardener reads - 'Dew laden spiders' webs glistened in the early morning sun. Minute diamonds dripped from open panicles of Panicum and Miscanthus.'

Grasses became a passion of mine, adding another dimension to an already interesting selection available at the nursery. For the first couple of years many of them were kept in pots on either side of the steps which lead from the back patio - so I could observe them more closely and learn their needs.

In Arthur's day there were only three different grasses in the garden - 'The Blue Oat' grass - Helictotrichon sempervirens, 'Gardener's garters' - Phalaris arundinacea 'Picta' and a couple of different Pampas grasses, some more attractive in flower than others. Gardener's garters was considered a nuisance by many in the garden...the Pampas untidy, with wickedly sharp leaves and a nightmare to keep tidy. Only the Blue Oat grass behaved in a gentile manner, sending long flowering stems from neat basal growth.

But once I began to buy grasses many more became firm favourites...I grew Briza maxima in the square pots on the top of the front terrace steps. Viewed closer, the sweet heart-shaped flowers bounced and rattled gentle in the breeze: the open panicles of the Panicum species too...the photograph below taken on a grey day when the rain stopped for just a moment, but the diamonds dripped...

Panicum virgatum