Tree Watching – Trauma

IMG_0875On the face of it my larch is doing splendidly.  The downy growth of last month is maturing fast and although still fresh-faced now has an increased look of adulthood.  An aura of its first flush still remains but is swiftly outgrowing its innocence.  However it seems that life has not always been so carefree and rosy for my new friend.

IMG_0873 (2)Even the most renown of botanic gardens nail labels to their specimens, it must therefore follow that it is considered harmless by The Wise Ones.  Still it makes me cringe.  The reason this particular nail was hammered into the blameless trunk is unclear but it pains me to see it there.  It seems rather sad to reduce this wonderful tree to a mere notice board or somewhere to hang your fairy lights.

IMG_0874More severe and, in turn, distressing is the trauma towards the base of the tree.  At some point in its life it was damaged, perhaps by the dreaded strimmer, perhaps a bunny had a nibble, perhaps a vehicle knocked into it when the driver was distracted by the bunny.  A small wound can enlarge as the tree grows making it seem more catastrophic than it was initially.  This large area stripped of bark exposing the wood below looks raw and vulnerable.  Although not sightly the tree lives on, undaunted by its disfigurement, keeping secret the story of its ordeals.  I think I love it all the more for its resilience.

Rubus spectabilis “Olympic Double” – Salmonberry

IMG_0651 (2)There is something to be said for visiting other people’s gardens, places that you aren’t intimately acquainted with.  Actually there is a lot to be said.  At certain times of the year I go for long periods without travelling much further than my workplaces and this is to my detriment.  This only relates to my professional life you understand, I do occasionally venture to Barnstaple* for recreational purposes.   I, naturally, digress; garden visiting can be inspiring, consoling, enlightening, encouraging.  Recently I have visited two garden in the capacity of admirer and commentator.  They are both gardens that I have visited often, they are both gardens that I love.  The first is Marwood Hill Gardens, 20 acres of wonder and water.  The second is RHS Rosemoor, excellence without pomp.  Both contain an enviable selection of specimen trees, shrubs, herbaceous, bedding, the list is comprehensive.  Both have their own personality and mood.

This flowering bramble, Rubus spectabilis “Olympic Double” or the Salmonberry, was found in both. It is a North American cousin of our favourite roadside berry provider and erstwhile adversary. Whilst it has some of the bad habits of its wild counterpart (it suckers, has a lax habit and is generally unruly) the stunning flowers at this time of year balance the negatives.  They will produce fruit but the jury is out as to how worthy they are, they are at worst dull and at best average.  Perhaps as a rejuvenating nibble as you wander past on a hot day they would be ambrosial but do not expect them to wow in a crumble.

*for those of you who know Barnstaple this may be mildly amusing, for those of you who don’t, it is absolutely hilarious.

Sea Campion

IMG_0855For the last few days we have had my family staying with us.  Not all at once, but in relay. The first tranche arrived on Friday, the second attack left this morning.  Typical isn’t it?  You wait for ages for one brother to come along and then two come in same weekend!  On Sunday, after an enormous feast cooked by some fine folk in a local hostelry, some of the more spritely of us (yes I am including myself in this category, but to be honest you should see the others) walked up the towering hill that lies between our house and the sea.  This near mountain is a designated Nature Reserve crowned by the earth works of an iron age hillfort dating 300AD to 60BC.  At the summit there are spectacular views and a stiff breeze, a befitting prize after such a climb.  We waded through long grass and nettles (yes more nettles) to the edge of the boundary and waved exuberantly at our house below.  On our return we discovered that the stay-at-homers had been engrossed in watching Pointless on TV and had forgotten to look out the window.

A diversion on the ascent were blankets of Sea Campion, Silene maritima or perhaps Silene uniflora, indeed they may be one and the same.  This relative of the common Red Campion has grey green foliage and forms a thick mat of leaves and white flowers with distinctive “bladders” behind the petals.  The plant is edible, the leaves are on the bitter side and can be eaten raw or cooked, the flowers sweet with nectar.  But please don’t eat too many, we want to continue to enjoy our native beauties! There is a dark side to this pretty little flower; common names include Devil’s Hatties and Witches Thimbles and it is said to be bad luck to pick the blooms.  Now whether this is because the witches/devils are riled by you stealing their thimbles/hats and exact their terrible revenge, or the fact they grow on the cliff edge where it is easy to lose your footing and tumble to your demise.  That is for you to consider and for you to decide whether or not you will take the risk!

Addiction

IMG_0849 (2)Above are some of the plants I have bought this week.  Our garden is tiny.  There is no where for these plants to go but still I buy them.  Earlier in the week the plant sale at U3A offered cheap but well-grown plants, so a candelabra primula and the golden variegated grass Hakonechloa macra aureola along with some house leeks and hellebore seedlings could not be ignored. It would have been rude.  At a wet, windy Powerham Castle Garden Festival yesterday, solace from the dire conditions was taken from a venus fly trap, Dodecatheon meadia, Tulipa linifolia, Euphorbia x martinii and a South Africa restio Calopsis paniculata (3m tall, what’s your problem?) Oh, I nearly forgot the variegated form of creeping Fuchsia procumbens.  Of course a spot will be found for them, there always is somewhere.  Plant buying is a drug, and it feels darned good!

Talk

IMG_0665Those of you that know me well would say that I am pretty good at talking.  That I am.  In a “supermarket queue”, “bus stop”, “train journey”, “any time any place” kind of way.  This is part affliction, part blessing.  My mum is to blame as she has perfected The Art over the years and has passed these cursed genes on to me.  Today I gave a talk to U3A, the University of the Third Age.  This was quite a different matter all together.  It is not idle gossip, passing the time of day or indeed small talk.  It involved a lot of forward planning, a projector, Powerpoint presentation, an audience and, a first for me, a microphone.  How many of these torturous talks make you a seasoned professional I am not sure, I think today was number five in my career.  In truth I was marginally less nervous than normal, the nightmares only began a couple of nights ago.  I awoke at 6.00am with a calm innocence until I remembered what lay ahead.  Then came countdown to doom, frenzied rereading of notes and wondering if the Foreign Legion takes women recruits these days.  After all the stress, I think it went well and I might even have enjoyed it.  The projector worked perfectly, I remembered all parts to my computer, most plant names and, as I was dangerously armed with a microphone,  I didn’t forget myself and start a karaoke session.  They were an attentive and generous audience who laughed at my jokes.  There were trays of member donated plants, several of which I now call my own.  I only spotted one man with his eyes closed and I would like to imagine he was going into raptures at my sage-like words.  All in all it was a good day.

The First is Always the Best

IMG_0847 (2)This is my first aquilegia flower of the year.  Undoubtedly there have been some that I missed along the way.  I was probably admiring foals, sending WM’s into water butts, falling into nettles, eating my sandwiches, chitty chatting, digging, fighting ground elder, dancing or perhaps even day-dreaming.  Either way today’s columbine was looking marvellous, as Mr K* nearly said, it is an exceedingly good flower.

*For those of you not brought up on Mr Kipling’s Viennese whirls, cherry bakewells and french fancies then I must explain.  Mr K was/is a manufacturer of all things sweet, delicious and decidedly bad for you and his slogan is/was “Mr Kipling makes exceedingly good cakes”.  And he does/did!

Cunning Plan No. 237

IMG_0830 (2) I had a cunning plan today, yes another one!  Actually it was quite ingenious whilst still in the safe confines of my head.  If I written it down it would have been most excellent on paper.  However, when put into practice, the theory met with a few variables that had not been allowed for.   It seemed quite straightforward:  stinging nettles en masse, a willing man with a strimmer, an empty water butt and a new tap close by.   For those of you not keeping up, let me spell it out – WM would strim off the nettles, pack into the water butt which I would then fill with water; voila a free and effective liquid fertiliser.   So nettle were strimmed, packed and water was added.  Then the water came straight out again.  It appears that the water butt had a leak.  WM bravely unpacked the nettles again.  He managed a grimace when I pointed out (accompanied by my most charming smile) “it could have been worse, they could be brambles”. He fixed the leak, repacked and ran away as fast as his legs would take him.  Can’t think why!