Colour

I don’t know if it is the autumn sun accentuating the vibrancy of the garden, or perhaps my new medication, but at the moment I am slightly obsessed with colour combinations.   Looking from each and every angle, however unlikely and impossible for anyone who is not allowed to stomp around the borders, and exclaiming “have you seen the alonsoa against the Salvia atropurpurea!” or”just look at the coronilla next to the delusional azalea!”.

What I did not shout when I saw the perfect marriage above was “How fine the Symphyotrichum novae-angliae ‘Andenken an Alma Pötschke’ appears in conjunction with Salvia guaranitica ‘Black and Blue’ .  I well may have fallen off the front garden at Max’s, where I was tettering to take the photo, into the road below.  Still, it is a rather fine match.

So Much More

Gardening is so much more than being able to identify a tree or know which way a plant goes in the ground.   Stating the bleeding obvious?  Perhaps.

After lunch today Lady Mantle whisked me off to visit a local garden, ostensively to admire some autumn colour.  Which is exactly what we did.  The on-cue afternoon sunshine highlighted the burning leaves of Cornus kousa, ivory fruit of Sorbus cashmiriana, and the fragrant Cercidiphyllum japonicum amongst many fine specimens.  Late flowers of hesperantha, Hylotelephium spectabile and verbena graced the borders.   Brash dahlias, potentillas and caryopteris are a few others that warrant a mention.  Except there was so much more.  People.  Yes, I’m talking about those often dastardly human creatures who seem to mess most things up in the world.  Not in this case though.  The aim of this group of rural friends is to create a mutually beneficial gardening society.  For novices, tinkerers, the encyclopedic, the easily distracted and those who just want to get out of the house.  To share and encourage and support and laugh and enjoy their gardens.  To gain all the benefits of exercise and learning and good companionship.  To grow.  To help others to do the same.

So much more than learning Latin names and which way is up.

Coconut Ice

There is still a lot going on in Nancy Nightingale’s garden.  Obviously there is the singing, dancing and a little rough housing, but also there are dahlias, rudbeckia, cosmos and calendula.  Although past their best, looking a little windblown and tatty around the edges, they still contain enough vibrancy to restrain the tidy instinct that is strong at this time of year.

This ageratum, grown from a mixed packet earlier in the year, keeps drawing me back for another inspection.  Coconut ice, pure and simple.  And that, of course, is a good thing.

Six on Saturday – A Challenge

When I switched my phone on this morning the first thing I saw was a message from my sister-in-law “have you two tied yourselves to the house?”.  Curious.  And then it dawned on me, the news of our very own cuddly Storm Callum had reached the Netherlands.  For your information we are managing to stay attached at the moment, without the need for baler twine.  Unfortunately the plants are not doing quite so well, it has been quite wild out there in the big bad world.  Hence, it is a miracle that there are any photos today.  A feature peculiar to Chez Nous is that the weather is often different in the front of the house to the rear.  When it is sultry summer in the back garden it can be an arctic winter on the seaward side.  Today the front was merely dark, dreary and dank, a little horizontal rain but that is par for the course.  The rear however was a raging bough-splitting, swirling cataract of tempest.   I exaggerate not.   Photography was a challenge.  I took at least 5 million pictures and have managed to glean a scant six from the dull blur of the rest.  What I am blithering on about? Why the urgency?  I had to get enough photos to contribute the The Propagator’s Six on Saturday phenomenon of course!

There are positives and negatives to my first photo.  This is the little alley to nowhere flanked by the house on one side and the garden retaining wall on the other.  There is a shelf (rotting, I might add) on one side where I cosset the special ones.   Pots are stored underneath for winter protection and shade lovers are given some shelter beneath the whitewashed wall.   This is where all and sundry have been shoved in order to avoid damage whilst works are continuing to the house.  Whilst these unceremoniously shoved-in pots (not by me, I hasten to add) have been protected from the worst of the weather, all but a few on the margins are totally inaccessible.  Who knows what high jinx my nemses are up to?   And the interminable nasturtium is marching ever closer …….. It is a worry.

gazania

Come on, less of this misery, let us have a bit of good cheer! Here is a plucky gazania, continuing to flower in spite of the inclement weather.  Actually it is not strictly “continuing” as it, as well as others in the garden, had a short hiatus during the best/worst of the dry summer.

Magnolia 'Heaven Scent'

Next we have the tawney veined leaf of Magnolia ‘Heaven Scent’, clinging on for dear life.  This tree was inappropriately purchased for reasons of name and cost alone.  I never said I was perfect.

Chilli Bishop's Crown

This chilli pepper, Bishop’s Crown, was rescued from the home for wayward plants a few weeks ago.  In a pot, far too small for its dimensions, I repotted it and then ignored it.  Really they should do some kind of home check before these neglectees are allowed into the hands of the public.  The fruit don’t look very Bishop’s Crown-y, not that I am an expert in this department.  I might try and over winter the plant, and be nicer to it next year.

Whilst much else is closing down and shutting shop for the season, this hydrangea thought fit to throw out another couple of flowers.   Blooms in minature, but the colour is just as fine, if not better, than earlier in the year.

Dicentra formosa 'Bacchanal'

Lastly we have Dicentra formosa ‘Bacchanal’, again flowering out of season.  This is a plant that has been on The List for a while and I was hyperventilating slightly when I spotted it last month on a stall at RHS Rosemoor Garden Show.   These flowers are much paler than I remember them being and I am optimistically presuming that this is due to the season, weather, planets aligning or some such variables.  We will see.

And that is it, the wind is still roaring and whistling around the scaffolding like something out of a Hammer Horror film, but I am cosy, unlike my poor plants, at the mercy of the monsters who roam ….

Thanks Mr P, take a look at his site and find out what else has been going on in the world of the SoSers.  It will keep you entertained, but I can’t promise that it will keep you out of trouble.

 

Dinosaur

Hydrangea macrophylla ‘Ayesha’ is no one trick pony.  The pretty puckered flowers would be reason enough to welcome this beauty into your garden.   You could sit back and say “you have earned your place with your glorious blooms, no need for anymore effort”.  But then, as a autumnal bonus, the serrated leaves blush scarlet before they fall in embarrassment at their beauty.  I pointed out the red hemmed stegosaurus foliage to Ben today.  “Have you seen how wonderful these leaves are?  They remind me of dinosaurs”.  He squinted, tried his very best and made a hurried excuse.  Perhaps I should have drawn a picture.

 

Repeat

I have begun to repeat myself.  Most stories are prefaced with “please say if I have told you this before”.  Perhaps it is an inevitable phase of life.  It is not really that important unless, I suppose, you are the victim.

This is Dahlia australis, but it isn’t really.  Grown from seed as such, its semi-double flower indicates that all is not well.   I think that the milkman might have been a-calling.

I am depending on the fact that is that you have all forgotten that I have mentioned this before.  That too is an inevitable phase of life.  Which works for me.

Blame

Some plants are very late coming into bloom in our garden.  As we live in a blame-blame culture I am going to point the finger at a hard winter, a late spring, followed by a sweltering summer.  It could be one, the other, a combination of any, whatever, they are tardy.  This reluctance to flower may have been exacerbated by inadequate cold protection and lack of watering during the great drought of ’18.  Unlikely though, it couldn’t possibly be anything to do with my poor husbandry or lack of enthusiasm after tending to other peoples’ little darlings all day.  Crazy talk.

Dahlias, fuchsias, salvias, are all dawdling along as if they had all the time in the world.  Well let me tell you something my lovelies, you laid-back-to-vertical slovens, the winter is fast approaching and do I need to remind you what happened last year!  Get a move on, flower, shut down and prepare for the worst!

A beauty that is often late on parade is Tibouchina urvilleana, the Brazilian Glory Bush.  A gift from Mrs Fish before she headed south for the summer, the buds are almost as glorious as the flowers.  Not quite.  But almost.  Won’t be long.

Six on Saturday – Happy Holidays

After a week or more away, I have come home to builders, scaffolding, inaccessible plants and a really vicious cold.  For this reason (and I will continue to blame everything on the builders including my poor health, who in reality are rather nice chaps, until further notice) my Six on Saturday will dwell on holiday snaps.  Of course these consist, on the whole, pictures of plants.  This is probably just as well you wouldn’t want to see myself and OH in our “kiss me quick” hats, trousers rolled up daringly above the ankle, having a paddle.  If you would like to share in the experience of other SOSers, with or without builder input, pop on over to our Site Foreman to find out more.

First we have an osteospermum, growing in the recess of a wall overlooking St Ives.  Always a joy to visit, come torrential monsoon and high winds or shine.

bamboo

Next is a golden bamboo, possibly Phyllostachys aurea, but I’m not absolutely sure as I wandered off to admire it and I was reined back in.  Which happens unsurprisingly often. This photo was taken at The Leach Pottery, also in St Ives.  It is located about 100m from my childhood home and we always visit when we are down.  Incredible pots and wonderful memories.  Not that we were aware of it as kids, we were just kids.  In those days we were just interested in playing on the beach/woods/moors and eating Mr Kipling’s produce.  And yes we did buy more pots.  Very beautiful they are too.

Bidens

Then on to Penzance to catch up with old friends and continue our hedonistic adventures.  Our guest house had a rather amazing garden, which not only had sea views but was packed with colour.  These bidens were a treat, as was the Hummingbird Hawk Moth feasting on the Verbena bonariensis, which unfortunately avoided my lens.  You will have to trust me on that one.  On our last morning we were waiting for our taxi to take us to the train station, when a gentleman in a rather flamboyant shirt left the house.   He started a conversation, asking us where we going and the like.  He then dropped into the conversation, like a feather into a vat of oil, that he was returning from Kew Gardens to Tresco where he is the curator of Abbey Gardens.   I may have fainted.

Colquhounia coccinea

During our stay we visited the small-but-perfectly-formed Penlee Art Gallery and Museum, which is situated in Penlee Gardens.  I almost didn’t get in the door.  Waylaid variously by swathes of Tulbaghia violacea, a largeTrochodendron aralioides full of Sputnik fruit, white crinum and night scented Cestrum parqui.  The treasure which made me squeal with glee was this Colquhounia coccinea, unlike my own specimen, a strong and flower-full example.  When I got home I rushed to see if a miracle had happened.  No.

Fascicularia bicolor

I had a hunch when I saw the expanses of swordfish foliage that it might be something special.  A little poke about and I found what I was looking for, the outlandish flower head of Fascicularia bicolor .   Planted in a tiny garden, come seating area, just opposite the Jubilee Pool, this is another example of the exotic as ordinary.  Wonderful.

Peggy Pearlers

On our last day we had an itinerary.  We were having a day out with my good friend and jeweller to the stars (and me) Duibhne Gough, known to her pals as Div.  She would take us to The National Dahlia Collection, then lunch, then to a nursery, then to see her new workshop before home, tired but happy.  I have long wished to visit the dahlias at Varfell Farm, even more so since I named a dahlia after my Mum, read all about it here It Is All In The Name.  It was a fabulously sunny day with bloom after bloom after beautiful bloom.  But none were the special one.  Soon I was beginning to doubt myself and that it was in fact a cruel hoax.  Then a point and smile from the lovely Div and there she was in all her glory.  I can quite honestly say, in a totally biased manner, that Peggy Pearlers was the most beautiful specimen in the field.

After a delicious lunch our itinerary was scrapped, as £20 worth of unleaded had found its way into the diesel Citroen.  It turned out for the best, a balmy afternoon of laughter and lager (and the odd house white but that didn’t scan as well), and I didn’t buy a single plant!

Thank Mr P for being the host with the most.  Until next time!