All day I have been trying to sit down and write this blog. Now it is late (for me) and I have to work tomorrow early (for me) so I will precis what was intended. Devon Subtropical, nonstop chat, creamy hedychiums, crazy cats, budding Hildebrand, passionate flowers, exuberant gunnera, flowering brugmansia, premature canna, strangled bananas, guerrilla openings, electric blue geckos, all rounded off with some fragrant Viburnum x burkwoodii. You may well be relieved you only got the condensed version.
Tree Following – In the Green
And we are off!!! The larch has finally awoken and each and every branch, branchlet (and curiously also at odd intervals across the trunk) is now covered with thousands upon thousands of lime green whirls. Over the last week or so they have evolved from bashful mini-shaving brushes to porcupines in full display. You can almost feel the energy, their enthusiastic gusto, as they burst forth in a way that surely encapsulates the word “spring”. I can’t help thinking this is going to be the my perfect “watching” moment. That it would be hard to beat this time when everything is so fresh, so innocent. These avocado hued needles have yet to toughen, they are yet to be exposed to wind or rain or harsh sun, they are soft and pliable and vulnerable. But harden they will and they will continue to do their job of feeding this tree throughout the summer into autumn, whether I think they are more or less beautiful than before. That of course is the most important thing.
Who has been sleeping in my bed?
George was in a foul mood today, in fact he was in a first class strop, he kicked over his water bucket, he bellowed and he grumbled and he stomped and he barged. Still sleeping beauty did not rise from her slumbers. It was probably best just to ignore his temper tantrums, now come on Georgie Boy, cuddle up!
Cuckoo! Cuckoo!
Yes a Cuckoo Pint, Arum maculatum. What do you mean you were expecting that harbinger of spring and prize nest squatter Cuculus canorus? Sorry. Earlier today, whilst innocently skipping through the streets of fair Ilfracombe, I was stopped in my tracks by this outlandish inflorescence, which is known as a spadix. If I was a Victorian lady I would have averted my eyes. I may have blushed a little. I tiptoed past sleeping Rottweilers to take this photo. Luckily I didn’t have my tap shoes on …..
Mukdenia rossii
This lovely little member of the saxifrage family enticed me with its rosy autumnal foliage. Little did I know quite how delightful the flower spikes of Mukdenia rossii would be, standing tall above the barely emerging bronze/green palmate leaves. If you have a sliver of woodlandesque garden, not too dry, I would recommend this Chinese native for a long season of splendid interest. It certainly brightened a misty spring morning for me.
Unfurling
Over the years it has become apparent to me that some plants are more reluctant to awaken in the spring than others. They like to take their own time, pootle along at their own rate, unaffected by what others may be doing around them, namely participating in the Great Spring Re-Clothing. These plants are players in a horticultural soap opera, complete with a dramatic “will they wont they?” cliff hanger, the following episode culminating in an emotional finale “yes I am still alive, and it was actually all a dream”. In my garden the reticent “I’m just not a morning person” is Cercis canadensis “Forest Pansy”. It may have good reason to be sloth-like as I have held it captive for the last few years in a pot. A large pot admittedly but still a pot. I wouldn’t blame it for being a little miffed. However today I have spotted some buds so we should be on our way very soon. The fine weather, a handful of fertiliser and a few encouraging words (delusional I know) and before long those demon hearts will be emerging again. Whilst in confessional mode I should point out that we have several trees in pots; some delicate like the Japanese Maples, some less so like Liquidambar styraciflua. It is a prime example of when Plant Lust wins over Plant Sense. One day they will be released, but only on the day that I have the space to liberate them. Until then I will try my best to keep them happy and recount tales of halicon days to come, when they will feel the bare earth beneath their roots and they will be able to run free ……….
This acer, however, is not ashamed to unfurl its merlot leaves for all to admire.
Proper
Now that is what I call a proper Easter Sunday. The sun shone, the people smiled and the cherry tree bloomed. Happy Easter everyone!
One Love
A Rasta sheep, could there anything better on a mizzly, cold Maundy Thursday? Only perhaps a Rasta lamb. But for those will have to wait a little longer. But not much. As Mr Marley once sang:
One Love! One Heart!
Let’s get together and feel all right.
Thanks for all your good wishes x
Complacency
Complacency – don’t do it! For some inexplicable reason, certainly not involving excitement or adventure of any kind, I have hurt my shoulder/shoulder blade/ribs/back kind of area. After a night without a wink of sleep (well it felt like it anyway) I did not have a happy day. Pretty grumpy on the whole. It hurt to lay on my left side, right side, front, back. It hurt to cough, to move position and most inconveniently, to breathe. Not conducive to sleep. Perhaps foolishly I took some ibuprofen and went to work. It hurt to reach, to carry, to dig, oh and to breathe. Not conducive to being a gardener. All this just as spring is sprunging. Actually, really grumpy now. This chaenomeles, an unnamed flowering quince, did go some way to cheer me up. So did George the Pig’s squidged up face as he legged it across the field when this afternoon he spotted me at the gate. I know it is possible this was because he thought I had an apple for him (I did) , but it may have been that he could see my pain and wanted to cheer me up. I thought you might like a picture of the lovely flower, it may help if you have also had such a day. I will save lovely George for another day.
Great Expectations
Over the last few months I have been gardening blind, for the most part anyway. My new clients’ gardens were previously unknown to me and as such a mystery. Strangers who I needed to become acquainted with and hopefully will eventually call my friends. In an attempt not to appear a complete dimwit (quiet please in the cheap seats!) I have desperately been studying twigs and bark and interrogating owners for clues as to what various trees and shrubs might be. Many of the herbaceous perennials have also been dormant, nestling underground until warmer conditions tempt them out, and I have been stumbling across them in borders along the way, trying to distinguish the wheat from the chaff. Now as spring progresses every visit divulges a little more of each garden’s secrets and in turn inspires even more expectations. The turn of the season is slowly revealing what lies beneath and within. I had correctly identified this as a magnolia tree (such brilliance) but today, when I saw a tantalising glimpse of dark dark flower beneath the split casing, the anticipation of this tree in full bloom is almost unbearable.
Off The Edge Gardening 