I have spent a large part of the past month waiting.
Waiting for the two of us to recover from a nasty chest infection – not quite there yet. Waiting for our internet to be mended – a serious matter when we, and our neighbours, have no mobile signal either. It came back yesterday – hurray. And then, I realised, I was waiting for the principal border in the garden, which is visible from the house, to get going.
It does have various bits and pieces which offer some pleasure before it really begins to work. But now it begins to please me properly. The most important bit is Koenigia alpina, previously known as Persicaria alpina.
Alpina, of course, because it’s like an alpine plant, tiny, hmm – as in about two yards tall and a couple of yards wide.
Here it is (above) – the white flowering plant. There’s only two here, but I realised I needed MORE and after years of working on establishing it, I now have it repeating down the border. It flowers for ages, starting white and turning pink as it goes over – see below.
Still not enough of them, but you can see their beautiful soft pink
Today you can also see the begining of Campanula lactiflora – the blue flower,
Campanula lactiflora
which will shortly fill the border, along with the pink flowered Chamaerion angustifolium ‘Stahl Rose’ – an early pink willow herb. And after this things don’t stop until autumn.
Chamaerion angustifolium ‘Stahl Rose’
But my reason for going on about it was that this year I was so aware that I am waiting for it to begin.
And that when it does, it will signify the peak of the flowering year for us. In other parts of the garden rambling roses begin to pour out scent, the meadow is full of moon daisies, and hydrangeas are begining to flower. Much of the garden begins to peak.
Rosa lucieae (syn. Rosa wichurana) – with a wonderful spreading scent.
Something occurred to me about this.
That we are encouraged on all sides to have flowers and great performing gardens all year, including ‘winter interest’. Perhaps we are missing something here.
If you want flowers from spring to autumn in your garden you are very likely to get the dotty look, as they appear one after another. Making a rather sparse look as they perform one by one over months. Most of us cannot afford the plants and the work involved in layering plants in our borders so that they never stop being full of flower, as I understand they manage at Great Dixter. So perhaps going for a major climax is a feasible and glorious alternative? Maybe my Crescent Border could have one amazing climax instead of several months flowering?
We could choose a time and go all out for it. Do a winter garden, following in Marianne Willburn’s footsteps. Or fill the garden with spring bulbs. Have a midsummer garden, with roses, roses and more roses. Or wait until autumn and focus your planting there – with autumn colours and flowering grasses.
I love autumn at Veddw
Forget all the rest.
You don’t have to go without treats – some plants in pots, bought flowers, houseplants….. but have a major time, when all is focused on a floral celebration. What a great way to enjoy a small garden, where you simply can’t grow all you’d like to. Focus your flowering instead. When is your climate best for enjoying the outdoors? That could be your time. Which flowers do you love best? Make them a speciality. Which flowers love you best? Get more! When do you have most time for tweaking and enjoying? Make that your time.
However, it would involve a lot of waiting…….
I like this idea. I like spring bulbs the best. I like foliage over flowers. Our hot humid summers destroy any desire to be working in the garden for long. What time I do spend is focused on the vegetables and the berries. Mid and late summer flowers don’t get me excited. Prairie plantings? Meh. Time to order more bulbs! Of course I need plants to cover the bare spots left by the bulbs.
And I think it’s a good bulb ordering time – go for it! (Bare spots = foliage ground cover..?)
I am very much in the camp of having a “major time”. Living in Aberdeen I don’t really venture out at all into my garden between early November and late February due to it going dark so early ( for American readers in Scotland we are as far north as Alaska so it goes dark between 3pm and 4pm in winter) so I have no interest in “winter garden” articles that start popping up in magazines late in the year.
Its also the case that leaving plants to die gracefully only works aesthetically if you get hoar frosts, if you get wind, rain, snow, ice followed by rapid thaw then most things turn to an unsightly mush very quickly.
Again being in the north, spring arrives late (probably 4-6 weeks later than yourselves in Wales) so for my “major time” it is May through to August. It’s when I get to enjoy my garden, so its when I want to see things.
I also don’t have the space to extend that into September so I’ll enjoy what I’ve got!
It’s not so very different in South Wales when it comes to what happens to foliage. If there really are bees that need sticky up stems, they are looking in the wrong place here too. I’m happy to ignore the outside in winter.
Anne, you always crack me up. But you pose a good question. Should we strive for multiple climaxes throughout the season or just be happy with one grand climax (I like to think of these are “horticultural orgasms”. ) At the risk of frying my “horticultural synapses” I would say, “Why not both”. As the season progresses we are tickled with a little “horticultural foreplay”. Yes, this can produce some “spottiness” in the garden but it is still very much pleasurable. I am a big fan of “multiple horticultural orgasms” (or the real ones for that matter, yikes, did I just type that?) Focus Steve, focus.
Let’s see, where was I? Oh yes, gardening is a sensual activity and the more stimulation we can create the better in my book. Enjoy the ride and don’t over-think it. Steve
I think over thinking is my job, Steve. And, of course you describe what most of us enjoy….. but some people may benefit from an alternative?
It would, as you say, involve a lot of waiting. But that’s not a bad thing. I look forward to asparagus, to snap peas, to tomatoes – too brief a season — and do not expect to have them year round. And flowers too, to some extent. But I think that good bones in a garden – which is what you have at The Veddw, allows you ‘garden’ when you don’t have ‘GARDEN!’ – and that’s what I am working towards slowly.
Keith Wiley at Wildside speaks of climatic gardening (though not in Steve’s colorful terms) in his book On The Wildside – as he has large areas that do different things at different times and he revels in it. I like that approach. From my perspective, you’re doing much the same – didn’t notice the lack of Persicaria in May as there was so much else to see.
To some extent – perhaps to a great extent – it is the plant marketers that have set us up with expectations of ‘blooms spring till frost’ – and we are in that cultural mindset to such an extent that we are almost annoyed at the plants that have a season lasting three weeks at best.- MW
You and I, and Keith Wiley, have large spaces to play with. In our several acres I’m not fond of different areas for different times of year: I feel mostly responsible to our visitors to have as much as possible for them, of all kinds, during visiting months. And winter off for me.
But what about handling a few square yards? That’s ordinary in the UK.
I do think plant sellers and the relentless garden media have set us up to the idea of year round lovely gardens. Good to think of some alternatives. And to free some of us up a bit?
I have to confess I just can’t stand articles about “winter interest.” I live in New England (CT) and I am hardly looking at the garden as I bundle up to shovel or run to and from the car in the freezing cold. I no longer put pressure on myself, at 58, to look as dewy and sexy as I did at 28. I am going to cut my garden the same slack in its march toward dormancy each winter. Also: I bought one Persicaria Polymorpha two years ago, and am head over heels in love, absolutely smitten. It was maybe 2 feet the first year, and is easily 6 feet this year and now in bloom in my front garden. I might plant a row of them along the new, deep olive green fence panels I had installed last summer in the backyard.
One Persicaria Polymorpha is wonderful. A row, amazing!
Attempting to imitate nature and the succession of plants, as one goes and another replaces it, is the Valhalla of gardens……I’ve counted 14 (some are early and late varieties of the same plant) in the area immediately outside the house. The anticipation of ‘what’s coming next’ is a great pleasure…so far Dec is the only empty month.
The anticipation, with regular checks on signs of change, is definitely a great pleasure.
Anne, I’m glad you, Charles and the internet are mending. A garden “pleasing properly” is what I need. A good chunk of Kentucky got as much rain, the last few days, as anyone would want. We were forsaken and bone dry in central Kentucky. A quarter of an inch—tops. It’s not “heat dome hot” but it is toasty. Hellebores are lying flat on the ground, still green, begging for mercy. I’m testing their fortitude and being stingy about watering. I’ve tried to pretend our garden can be all things in four seasons. I’m looking ahead to next spring, though a good soaking rain unforeseen could change my mood.
I hate drought and heat! So hard – my sympathy.
And yes, thanks, we are recovering, but horribly feeble.
So frustrating when everyone else gets a good dowsing of rain and it dies before getting to you. Or in our case this past month the storms looked promising only to part as they got to me, going north and south of my neighborhood. Did finally get half an inch yesterday morning. Hot I expect but hate when also blast-furnace dry!
I love the idea of a ‘peak’ experience in a large space. And certainly when your local weather is most amenable.
It took a while for me to appreciate the separated iris gardens and lily gardens. They are exquisite in bloom and rough as heck out of bloom. Tucked away in separate hedge areas gives them their own peaks.
The only advantage of a tiny suburban yard is that anything blooming is noticeable.
Anything blooming at any time of the year is less than 30′ away.
Early flowering Chinese fringe flower shrubs/small trees. The native dogwoods and reblooming azaleas start in late March, then the hybrid dogwoods, then the kousa dogwoods carry us into June. Hydrangeas, Echinaceas and Garden phlox in June, and July and August (when I’m admiring the 92° humid garden from the 74° house) reblooming iris of various types, asters and golden rod and fall foliage. All mixed in with roses, native spring ephemerals, evergreen ferns, evergreen perennials and evergreen, tropical looking, broadleaf shrubs, pansies, iris unguicularis, double hellebores in winter. (‘Winter’ typically being in the sunny 50’s, except for 3 or 4 cold snaps.) A highly desirable time to garden locally.
We are in USDA 7b, no wait! 8a, no wait, 8b! Lol, not buying any of that just yet. We still get cold snaps of 3 days with a high below freezing. Not planting any date palms just yet.
The main disadvantage of a small area is ‘only’ considering plants with a long bloom time. A lot of beautiful flowering plants who’s sole claim to fame is a 3 week bloom time just don’t make the cut. Especially herbaceous plants. Most of winter is beautiful here. Large hostas, large spreading perennials, etc. leave a huge hole during ‘prime time’.
Regarding your disadvantage: what garden doesn’t have its restrictions? The rest – sounds amazing!