Now that I have accepted that summer is really over, having never seriously arrived, I am beginning to embrace this autumn malarkey. Especially on such a gloriously sunny day. There are exciting changes in the garden, rather like springtime in reverse. Which I suppose it is. A week between visits to The Farm means that there is a lot of new to observe. Flower production is noticeably slowing as is weed growth, but leaf turning and seed development is making up for this diminishing. Today I collected some Leonotis nepetifolia seed. In the few seed heads I collected there were earwigs, tiny flies and beetles. In my struggle to release them back to safety I realised that it is not just birds that benefit from postponing tidying until the spring.
These Helenium ‘Red Shades’ have now shed their pollinator-enticing, colourful skirts. The warm sun will have been ripening their seed on this beautiful day. I will be watching. They are next on my donor list.
My morning was spent digging up crocosmia in the rain. I was fully ‘proofed and as warm and dry as could be expected in such circumstances. Whilst playing “spot the vagrant corm” I listened to my iPod on shuffle mode, doing my own semi-rhythmic shuffle when appropriate. I pondered the troubles of the world and the vagaries of life. It was then that it all became clear, that there was one certainty that I could cling to. Next year, in the very same area that I painstakingly removed every single last trace of croc, more will appear, laughing in my face.
A hard day at the coal face. I’m very tired. Here is an aster. And yes I know it is now called bobsyouruncle or jackinthebeanstalk or symphonicorchestra but I can’t quite remember which. So today, and most likely not for the last time, I am calling it an aster.
There is seldom need to sow nasturtium more than once. Not in my world anyway. In this garden we dance a horticultural dance, sometimes I am leading, more often not. At this time of year they are ever marching like a marauding army. Tumbling through and over and round, charming constrictors in opal fruit hues. Rarely do I have the inclination to pull them aside. It could be that I am aware that their days are naturally numbered. The caterpillars are munching and before long a wayward frost will turn them to mush. I am confident that next year they will return as strong as ever, just a few months hiatus in their domination. And yet again I will let them run wild.
Once more unto the Six on Saturday, the global meme hosted by superhero The Propagator. Following last week’s “Nearly’s” I am sorry to report that out of the six potential stars we only have one performer, and that is rather a half-hearted attempt.
So we will start with something that is at least trying, a honeysuckle, holding its flower head high above the griselinia hedge below. No idea where it starts, or indeed where it ends, but I claim it as our own.
Pelargonium ‘Pink Capricorn’
Next we have Pelargonium ‘Pink Capricorn’ and friend. I featured this little beauty a couple of years ago in Pastel Power. This means it has survived the onslaught of two wet and windy North Devon winters. Fingers crossed for the next one! And of course for the for the spider.
Salvia corrugata
Here we have the sole member of last week’s bud group that could be bothered to flower in time for today. Salvia corrugata is making a feeble effort to bloom. Don’t you realise that people are waiting!?
Acer palmatum
Having just tallied them up for the first time, I can report that we have five Japanese maples in pots. They are various unnamed Acer palmatum cultivars, bought as tiny sticks many years ago. Several were from Woolworths, ah the wonder of woolies, we miss you.
Osteospermum
Another anonymous osteospermum, I love this copper colour, and like its golden counterpart included a couple of weeks ago, it has enjoyed a summer snuggled on a sunny step outside the kitchen door.
Hedychium forgottenum
Lastly we have another ginger lily, unfortunately not the one I was hoping for. Hedychium greenii has not moved one iota. Still this first reserve hedychium has a stunning flower, a worthy understudy. It was gift from Steve and Dawn at Devon Subtropical Garden. To my great shame I have lost the label and don’t know which ginger it is. I thought it was Devon Cream, but looking at it now I don’t think so. Rubbish gardener. Steve and Dawn’s garden is open for the National Garden Scheme tomorrow, if you are in the area I highly recommend a visit.
That’s the lot, thanks Mr P! I have a note from my mum for next week, so hopefully in a fortnight, like Arnie, I’ll be back.
As a girl in the 1970’s my mum bought me a moss-green corduroy trouser suit, and I looked like the bee’s knees. Or rather I imaged that I did. It was rather avant garde for St Ives CP Junior School. There were “looks”. Since then I have allowed the latest trends to get lukewarm before I decide whether to adopt them or not. Never at the cutting edge, somewhere just behind, at a safe distance.
Fashion in horticulture I have tried to avoid altogether. Of course none of us are immune to the great marketing machine. We get sucked into the current wave and are carried along unintentionally. Generally I manage to stay out of trouble. A visit to Hampton Court Flower Show sealed the contract. What seemed like dozens of people staggered back and forth, parading their new purchase, the standard shrimp willow, Salix integra. It was a rather disturbing sight, watching these bizarre trees bobbing past at regular intervals. My reaction was “Why on earth would you want to buy the same plant as everyone else?”.
In May 2011 Anemone ‘White Swan’ won Chelsea Flower Show Plant of the Year. In August 2017 I liberated one from the bargain bin of a garden centre. I call it fashionably late.
My daily commutes range from a scant 10 minutes to a country half an hour. Both have their advantages. An extra few minutes in bed is always a joy, especially as winter gallops towards us, but I also enjoy the longer journeys. My music is invariably playing, problems are solved, plans are made. And early in the morning, the views are all mine.
A t-shirt and refreshing (non-alcoholic) cold drink day. Felt full of vim even though I have got a code in my dose. Love my job. Love this lantana too.
Today’s gardening duties were straight out of The Book of Horticultural Cliches, chapter three Autumn. Collecting seed, moving perennials, tidying, planning for next year. Hesperantha were flowering, a cerise cyclamen popped and we swept the first of the leaves that had fallen in the recent gales.
This rich-red pelargonium however was having none of it. Summer was reigning its corner, its luminescence keeping the changing season at bay. Still going strong. Long may it continue.
Off The Edge Gardening 