Transparency+New Romantics= Revolution

It’s the time of year when the tree surgeon comes to see me in the garden. We talked about hedges and trees and the badgers (they’ve dug up the newly cut meadow looking for leatherjackets,chafer grubs and worms). Then he remarked that to him my garden is a “see through” garden: where you look through plants and planting to the beyond, “like lots of veils”. Of course he said just the right thing and I beamed with pride (what a charmer).

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Gravel Terrace, August 2016

To me my garden is Romantic (with a capital R) and it is the use of transparent wafting plants (many of them grasses) that conjures up this romance. John Keats said “ what the imagination seizes as beauty must be truth”….

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Matrix Bed, September 2016

Sunlight filtering through grasses; dewdrop covered cobwebs; the filigree lace flowers of the carrot; all these moments are celebrations of the beauty of our planet. So, more soft focus low light shots of floaty, diaphanous planting are an absolute must:

This is not Mills and Boon…. More Wordsworth and Colleridge: surely our relationship with “nature” is a moral touchstone for our day-to-day lives?

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Backlit Stipa Gigantea and Cardoon on the Gravel terrace, August 2016.

Our world is increasingly urbanized, pressure is being put on natural resources and we are becoming conscious of our footprint on the planet. I see a movement in gardens back towards the “natural”: using nature and natural habitats as an inspiration to create not just beautiful evocative planting, but, to also give “something back to nature” in creating a habitat for wildlife that is sustainable and creates biodiversity.

It is important to understand that these are still heavily designed spaces. Nature is a muse and an inspiration, not the goal. The pastoral idylls of woodland glades, meadows and hedgerows that we evoke in these plantings are the result of man’s stewardship of the land, they do not naturally occur.

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The Matrix Entrance Bed – Fluff and Waft in abundance, September 2016

By making beautiful, aspirational, organic, wildlife-friendly, ecologically sustainable gardens we are making a political choice in our own private spaces and investing hope in a more harmonious relationship with the natural world.

So when Moldy Warp or Crock next dig up your lawn, try my mediation: breathe deep and quote Wordsworth.

Sweet is the lore which nature brings:

Our meddling intellect

Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things:

-We murder to dissect.

 

Enough of science and of art;

Close up these barren leaves;

Come forth, and bring with you a heart

That watches and receives.

 

Remember: the Romantics were more revolutionary than nostalgaic. Instead of yearning for a Paradise Lost, our gardens could be a nature regained.

Holidays and Hollyhocks

Apologies for Blog -hiatus. Whilst the children have been at home I have found it particularly difficult to put finger to keyboard and to think for a period of uninterrupted time. Life has become a series of bite-sized goings-on that are rooted in the moment. And now that the holidays are nearly over I can take 10 minutes to stand back and look at the garden and appreciate it. It has grown hugely and gone through many stages: early summer “zing” (click on photos to enlarge)

high summer abundance

and late summer “golden hue” – where the tawny bronze seedheads and the golden grasses predominate – my favourite.

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Gravel terrace, late August, 2016.

 

I’ve just got back from Ile de Re… A small island off the south west French coast, very near to La Rochelle.

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The island has a lot of protected habitat. Marshlands that were deliberately   created to farm oysters and sea salt are now havens for wild birds and wild flowers. Large sand dunes lead into pine forests.

Everywhere you go there are meadows. The sandy limestone soil suits similar plants to the ones that thrive in my garden…. Except that the heat and the sand mean that the flowers (not the grass) dominate.

Self-seeding biennials and perennials find their way into cracks in the pavement or space in the gravel or masonry joint.  The flower that has become synonymous with the island is the hollyhock… They are everywhere, in every colour.

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My favorites are the lemon coloured ones. The first time I saw lemon yellow hollyhocks were at my Dad’s farm in his graveled carpark. Dad had gone on hoiday to Greece and had loved the hollyhocks, so he had brought back some seed and “thrown” it into the gravel around his yard. He had also sprinkled fennel seed liberally. The result was completely captivating: beautiful, cultivated and yet haphazard and chaotic and a “natural”- looking planting. So I am going to attempt to do the same.

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I planted a cultivated hollyhock last year. The specialist plant nusery I bought them from called it Alcea “Parkallee”. I was dubious about it because it is a double flowered cultivar… But the canny nurserywoman showed me it covered in bees growing out of a crack in a polytunnel and I fell for it. So, I planted it by the big barn door and it grew and grew and grew…. Not like a hollyhock… more like a giant candelabra.

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I did some snooping online and found it IDed as x Alcalthaea suffrutescens ‘Parkallee’. Apparently, it is a hollyhock crossed with a wild marshmallow. It certainly grows like a sub-shrub, rather than a straight-up hollyhock, and it has no hollyhock rust, but, it has needed staking and it doesn’t stop growing.

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The bumble bees are all over it….They get so drunk that you find them sleeping in the underskirts…( It looks a bit indecent).

I like its delicate tutu-like buff flowers with maroon fringing…. But it doesn’t mix with my fennel or satisfy the hollyhock-hankering.

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I have deliberately used a lot of self-seeding plants in my gravel gardens. Allowing and encouraging plants to self-seed must be part and parcel of gardening with nature. Garden guru, Noel Kingsbury says:

“Once we planted things and expected them to stay where they were put. Gardening now is much more accepting of spontaneity, of natural processes of birth, death and decay. Embracing plants that self-seed is part of becoming a manager of nature rather than a controller. Seeding is a vital way in which plant communities thrive and survive. Allowing it in the garden can be seen as a way of the garden becoming an ecological system.”

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This approach means that the naturalistic planting schemes that I admire can be attained much more readily. But, its major downside is its unpredictability. Some species may not do as well as imagined, and, those that do too well can quickly become weeds.

So, my gravel beds have been planted to a “plan”, but it was the evergreen “permanent” planting that I concentrated on, by contrast the self-seeder plants were placed where I thought they might like, but I expect them to move and find their own spaces. Most of these plants are shallow rooted annuals and biennials. Here is a run down of some of my mainstays (Click onto photos):

The advantages of using self-seeders is that from a packet of relatively cheap seed you can have instant colour and introduce plants to the garden that are valuable food sources for wildlife (honestly – the bees are amazing). The disadvantages are that you need to weed carefully, – identifying new seedlings and letting them grow on and weeding out weeds as well as over dominant plants. You will not be able to completely control your planting; you are merely an editor. And, in order to make sure your seed can germinate you need to keep some soil/ gravel surface bare (which means more weeds and more weeding).

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As the saying goes: The only constant is change. Sow some seed and add a bit of chaos to your gardening… its addictive.