Gone Fishing

Lady Mantle went fishing today.  More accurately she went skimming.  The pond has become a little green in recent weeks, caused by a film of dastardly duckweed, not an ideal look for a healthy water feature. So Her Ladyship put on her wellies (for aesthetic affect only, she didn’t actually enter the water, although it was touch and go on occasion, and if she had gone in the wellies wouldn’t have helped much, but I did have my camera primed just in case, you really can’t miss these opportunities, and no I wasn’t wishing, well OK maybe a little) armed herself with her trusty fishing net and set to work.

Each net was examined for creatures which had been inadvertently transported from the depths to the light of day and these were quickly returned.  LM left piles of aquatic vegetation poolside, giving easy access for the critters that were missed to return back to their preferred habitat.   Here are a few that had a more exciting day than they perhaps were planning on.

A zillion tadpoles:

tadpoles

A dragonfly nymph:

dragonfly nymph

A shiny water beetle (and friend):

Three newts, or perhaps one newt desperate for attention:

newt

And most exciting of all, a fine example of the very rare Exmoor Frogus plasticus:

Keep this last one to yourself, we don’t want to cause a commotion.

 

 

Kilver Court Garden, Somerset

 

Kilver Court

I tend to divide my friends up into categories.  As well as divisions of personality such as “sophisticated” (not many of these), “artistic” (quite a few), “dangerous” (enough) and “grown ups” (a couple), there are tribe types such as “sporting”, “virtual” “work”, “school” and of course “horticultural”. Sometimes they stray into more than one department, sometimes they are unclassifiable, occasionally we have known each other for so long I can’t quite remember how or why.   My friends Venn diagram is extremely complicated.

Last weekend I visited a very good buddy who now lives Somerset.  We have known each other for many years and she has recently placed one foot, or perhaps just a toe, from the “dangerous sporting” class into the “dangerous horticultural” one.  This meant that I wasn’t as surprised as I might have been a year ago when she suggested we visit Kilver Court garden, of which I had heard but never visited.  When she added that there was a nursery, restaurant and, wait for it ………….. designer outlet shopping, I was in the car with my handbag on my lap.

At this point I was going to recount some of the garden’s history but as I would just be copying it from their website you can read it yourself here Kilver Gardens.  And no, this is not lazy, it is clever.

Anyway I wasn’t disappointed.  It is a glorious garden.  When we entered through a sturdy oaken door, with intricate ironmongery, it hinted of the charm that was set to come.

So here a few photos, and few words but not many, to celebrate our visit.

Tulips Kilver Court

Everywhere there were large tubs of tulips in whack-you-straight-in-the-gob colours, here they enlivened the edge of the first millpond.

Kilver Court - lake

The garden is enhanced rather than dominated by the 19th century Charlton Viaduct.

Kilver Court - duck house

An adorable duck, or perhaps coot, house in the middle of the lake.  They used to have flamingos here, which necessitated slightly larger accommodation.

Kilver Court - Rockery

The rockery was outstanding and I surprised myself in how much I loved it.  Those who are young enough to carry it off without sounding daft might say it had a “retro” feel, with its close clipped conifers and alpine planting.  As I am not one of those people, I won’t.  This part of the garden was constructed in the 1950’s when this style was outrageously modern.  I think it’s time might have come again.  For me anyway and, as everyone knows, I have my finger on the horticultural pulse. You in the cheap seats, stop sniggering!

Kilver Court - Anemone

A single red anemone stood proud at the edge of the stream.

The parterre had some lovely planting combinations including these deep mauve lily tulips and sky blue early geraniums.  No picture of the actual parterre, must have been chatting.

Poncirus trifoliata

Lastly there was a curious shrub, with a serious personality clash, that a kind soul on Twitter identified for me.  It is a Poncirus trifoliata, or Citrus trifoliata, or the Japanese Bitter Orange.  Take your pick.  It has delightful cup-shaped white flowers (good news) and long vicious curved spines (not so good).

Kilver Court is not a large garden, nor does it need to be.   At present they are in the process of creating new areas of planting, vast mixed borders which I am sure will be stunning once finished. Unfortunately the organic vegetable garden was closed the day we visited.  So that is two good reasons to return another day.  And they have pink wheelbarrows, I have bagsied already.  Oh yes, and there is the shopping, but that is another story.

 

 

 

 

Up and Downs

pittosporum

A day of ups and downs at The Farm.

Ups:

  • In the orchard two of the new apples trees, Tom Putt and Farmer’s Glory, have unexpected blossom.
  • A pretty adolescent cat lurked about the site, tortoiseshell and rather timid.
  • The quince tree beautifully floriferous.
  • Plug plants arrived, including Pelargonium ‘Orange Fizz’ and Lophos ‘Wine Red’.
  • I found an ancient animal skull, bleached white.
  • Misty the lamb lolled unashamedly in the sunshine.
  • Planting out and potting on.
  • An end-of-play ice lolly.
  • Close examination of the understated, deepest maroon, flowers of a variegated pittosporum, sweetly scented.  Some of these blooms have already been visited by pollinators, their berries swelling at the base.

Downs:

  • Rabbits
  • Bunnies
  • Peter Cottontail
  • Flopsy
  • Harvey
  • Roger
  • The White One
  • Bugs

If only they didn’t look so adorable, that is a weapon I cannot fight against.

Light

From first til last the light was special.

On occasion, whilst driving through the Devon countryside, I marvel at the strikingly vibrant hues as I whizz pass field and garden.  Then, slightly disappointed, I remember that I have my sunglasses on and what I am seeing is just an enhancement of the truth.

Today, sans shades, all around me seemed especially colourful.  Strong but not harsh, fresh and buzzing with energy.  As if, overnight, someone had polished my retinas.

The blue was blue, the white was white, the green was green and the orange, well the orange needed an accompanying health warning.

rhododendron

Bug Hotel

I spent my day at The Farm helping Young Master G construct a bug hotel at the edge of the meadow.  The aim of this salubrious establishment is to provide a comfortable, safe place for everyone.  Everyone, that is, as long as you are an invertebrate or perhaps an over-wintering amphibian.  Reptiles (of modest size) are also welcome.   Our most popular apartments include, bark packed with woodchip, terracotta pots softened with straw, bamboo pure and simple, drilled out branches and blackcurrant prunings. The penthouse (with balcony and sea views) boasts fragrant pine cones with aromatic needles.  Each extremely desirable.  Unfortunately we cannot guarantee that your neighbour won’t eat you.

Sometimes Look Back

About an hour’s drive from where we live is Hartland Quay.  If you sailed westward from our house, close following the coastline, you would pass Morte Point and Grunta Beach on the way to Woolacombe and Putsborough, then round Baggy Point to Croyde and Saunton, skimming the estuary where Appledore and Insow nestle and the rivers Torridge and Taw find their way to the sea, then onto Westward Ho! and Clovelly, past Barley Bay and the lighthouse, turn the corner and you will have reached your destination.   We forgo the dingy and took the Ford Fiesta.

My dear-dear friend Daisy-Daisy and her wonderful Chain own a caravan on a site close to the village of Stoke, a mile or so above the quay.  Several times a year they venture down from the big city to enjoy the countryside.  Sometimes they bring half the city with them.  Yesterday, however, they were alone.  So we visited.  It is a lovely site, run by considerate folk.  The camping and vans are confined to the edge of the fields, the grass is left long in the centre allowing wildlife and wildchildren to run free amongst the wildflowers.

After greetings and a quick cuppa we headed off on our quest.  We began our journey negotiating a field of nursing sheep, with an unusual preponderance of black triplets, who were intent on resting on the footpath until the combination of human and jack russell caused a bleating retreat. We carefully traversed a vertiginous cliff path, past coconut scented gorse and diverting views, then shuffled down steep rugged steps skirted by sea thrift and kidney vetch, eventually reaching our destination.  The pub.  Here we gossiped, supped and ate chips. Bliss.  Then malted milk ice cream.  Double bliss.  Then the climb back, considerably slower, to coo once more over the lambs, occasionally pausing to look back and smile.