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Ideas for Autumn container displays – our native heather and something from the South African Cape

Categories Acid-loving plants, Autumn garden, container gardening, General commentLeave a Comment on Ideas for Autumn container displays – our native heather and something from the South African Cape

Pale and interesting - Calluna vulgaris in shades of pale pinks, white and cream. Specimens such as these offer Ideal planting for window boxes and containers providing a long period of interest, alone or partnered with trailing ivy for contrast, baby skimmia rubella, the soon-to-be everywhere cyclamen, violas and pansies, black grasses (Ophiopogon) and heucheras,…

Continue reading ➞ Ideas for Autumn container displays – our native heather and something from the South African Cape

Three beauties from David Austin…

Categories David Austin roses, General comment, RosesLeave a Comment on Three beauties from David Austin…

Another flush of roses, possibly the last of the summer and for that, very much appreciated and admired. Many of the David Austin flock will have begun flowering in late May, this year at least, and will still have an abundant show left in them before the needs for a little quiet-time assert themselves and…

Continue reading ➞ Three beauties from David Austin…

Evening sunshine – exploring some warmer tones for the late summer border

Categories General comment, late summer borderLeave a Comment on Evening sunshine – exploring some warmer tones for the late summer border

Heleniums, always starring in the late summer border - the yellow here is Double Trouble, the other, Helena Red. Below, the same combination in different focus and below that, Ruby Tuesday Helenium Ruby Tuesday (above) and more rich tones to follow - Achillea Walther Funcke Crocosmia George Davison - and peaking between the twin peaks…

Continue reading ➞ Evening sunshine – exploring some warmer tones for the late summer border

Roses, naturally…

Categories General comment, RosesLeave a Comment on Roses, naturally…

Here I am at my first rose workshop at Petersham Nurseries, a worldwide tour of the rose world, taking in several million years of history, paying particular attention to the glories of the Old Rose families. Now I'm looking forward to my next Workshop on Tuesday 14th October - more roses (of course) with a…

Continue reading ➞ Roses, naturally…

A poor old widow in her weeds, Sowed her garden with wild-flower seeds, Not too shallow, and not too deep, And down came April drip-drip-drip. Up shone May, like gold, and soon Green as an arbour grew leafy June. And now all Summer she sits and sews Where willow herb, comfrey, bugloss blows, Teasle and tansy, meadowsweet, Campion, toadflax, and rough hawksbit, Brown bee orchid, and Peals of Bells, Clover, burnet, and thyme she smells, Like Oberons meadows her garden is Drowsy from dawn till dusk with bees. Weeps she never, but sometimes sighs, And peeps at her garden with bright brown eyes, A poor old Widow in her weeds.

Categories General comment, Wildlife gardeningLeave a Comment on A poor old widow in her weeds, Sowed her garden with wild-flower seeds, Not too shallow, and not too deep, And down came April drip-drip-drip. Up shone May, like gold, and soon Green as an arbour grew leafy June. And now all Summer she sits and sews Where willow herb, comfrey, bugloss blows, Teasle and tansy, meadowsweet, Campion, toadflax, and rough hawksbit, Brown bee orchid, and Peals of Bells, Clover, burnet, and thyme she smells, Like Oberons meadows her garden is Drowsy from dawn till dusk with bees. Weeps she never, but sometimes sighs, And peeps at her garden with bright brown eyes, A poor old Widow in her weeds.

A Widows Weeds Walter De La Mare A poor old widow in her weeds, Sowed her garden with wild-flower seeds, Not too shallow, and not too deep, And down came April drip-drip-drip. Up shone May, like gold, and soon Green as an arbour grew leafy June. And now all Summer she sits and sews Where…

Continue reading ➞ A poor old widow in her weeds, Sowed her garden with wild-flower seeds, Not too shallow, and not too deep, And down came April drip-drip-drip. Up shone May, like gold, and soon Green as an arbour grew leafy June. And now all Summer she sits and sews Where willow herb, comfrey, bugloss blows, Teasle and tansy, meadowsweet, Campion, toadflax, and rough hawksbit, Brown bee orchid, and Peals of Bells, Clover, burnet, and thyme she smells, Like Oberons meadows her garden is Drowsy from dawn till dusk with bees. Weeps she never, but sometimes sighs, And peeps at her garden with bright brown eyes, A poor old Widow in her weeds.

Before the Roman came to Rye or out to Severn strode, The rolling English drunkard made the rolling English road. A reeling road, a rolling road, that rambles round the shire, And after him the parson ran, the sexton and the squire; A merry road, a mazy road, and such as we did tread The night we went to Birmingham by way of Beachy Head. I knew no harm of Bonaparte and plenty of the Squire, And for to fight the Frenchman I did not much desire; But I did bash their baggonets because they came arrayed To straighten out the crooked road an English drunkard made, Where you and I went down the lane with ale-mugs in our hands, The night we went to Glastonbury by way of Goodwin Sands. His sins they were forgiven him; or why do flowers run Behind him; and the hedges all strengthening in the sun? The wild thing went from left to right and knew not which was which, But the wild rose was above him when they found him in the ditch. God pardon us, nor harden us; we did not see so clear The night we went to Bannockburn by way of Brighton Pier. My friends, we will not go again or ape an ancient rage, Or stretch the folly of our youth to be the shame of age, But walk with clearer eyes and ears this path that wandereth, And see undrugged in evening light the decent inn of death; For there is good news yet to hear and fine things to be seen, Before we go to Paradise by way of Kensal Green.

Categories General comment, Wildlife gardeningLeave a Comment on Before the Roman came to Rye or out to Severn strode, The rolling English drunkard made the rolling English road. A reeling road, a rolling road, that rambles round the shire, And after him the parson ran, the sexton and the squire; A merry road, a mazy road, and such as we did tread The night we went to Birmingham by way of Beachy Head. I knew no harm of Bonaparte and plenty of the Squire, And for to fight the Frenchman I did not much desire; But I did bash their baggonets because they came arrayed To straighten out the crooked road an English drunkard made, Where you and I went down the lane with ale-mugs in our hands, The night we went to Glastonbury by way of Goodwin Sands. His sins they were forgiven him; or why do flowers run Behind him; and the hedges all strengthening in the sun? The wild thing went from left to right and knew not which was which, But the wild rose was above him when they found him in the ditch. God pardon us, nor harden us; we did not see so clear The night we went to Bannockburn by way of Brighton Pier. My friends, we will not go again or ape an ancient rage, Or stretch the folly of our youth to be the shame of age, But walk with clearer eyes and ears this path that wandereth, And see undrugged in evening light the decent inn of death; For there is good news yet to hear and fine things to be seen, Before we go to Paradise by way of Kensal Green.

Rolling roads there were, to these rolling hills above Muker, deep in the heart of Swaledale. The poem, 'The Rolling English Road' by GK Chesterton http://www.theguardian.com/books/booksblog/2011/jun/13/poem-week-g-k-chesterton    

NOT in rich glebe and ripe green garden only Does Summer weave her sweet resistless spells, But in high hills, and moorlands waste and lonely, The vast enchantment of her presence dwells. Wide sky, and sky-wide waste of thyme and heather, Perpetual sleepy hum of golden bees…

Categories General comment, Wildlife gardeningLeave a Comment on NOT in rich glebe and ripe green garden only Does Summer weave her sweet resistless spells, But in high hills, and moorlands waste and lonely, The vast enchantment of her presence dwells. Wide sky, and sky-wide waste of thyme and heather, Perpetual sleepy hum of golden bees…

the cycling references are for Le Tour de France, which recently triumphed through Yorkshire and finally, mad cow, no, though a little eccentric... A break from the strictly horticultural life and out amongst Natural Beauty, this time in the Yorkshire Dales and here, Swaledale in particular. A walk starting in Reeth, taking in Marrick Priory,…

Continue reading ➞ NOT in rich glebe and ripe green garden only Does Summer weave her sweet resistless spells, But in high hills, and moorlands waste and lonely, The vast enchantment of her presence dwells. Wide sky, and sky-wide waste of thyme and heather, Perpetual sleepy hum of golden bees…

I think an Ark is needed….

Categories General comment, Petersham NurseriesLeave a Comment on I think an Ark is needed….

Campsis radicans, a vigorous tropical-looking climber with orange trumpet flowers. Requires a sunny, sheltered site - and room to grow. A mature specimen is a glorious thing. Penstemon Riding Hood Purple (below), intense colour on a shorter plant, happy in the front of a sunny, well-drained border, even an alpine bed. Crocosmia Emily McKenzie (below)…

Continue reading ➞ I think an Ark is needed….