Comment
The Garden, RHS Media, Churchgate, New Road, Peterborough PE1 1TT
g a r d e n d i a ry
the joys of A NEW garden
It may seem odd to start a diary
But back to the red pegs. One side of the garden borders an old
about a garden by focusing on a
orchard with some overgrown trees, owned by the local estate.
simple red timber peg, but that is
The third time we viewed the property, the previous owners had
where it started. That red peg is a
dotted red pegs along the edge of the land – in order to show
symbol of my new garden.
where their land stopped and started. Discussions with
My family and I moved into our
neighbours – and the landowner – ensued and the red pegs
new-to-us garden early last
soon marked out the run of our new fence.
g
n
ou
is Y
summer. On the edge
But how to choose a fence? In our old garden we
hr
C
/
S
of a village with
made do with bits of chicken wire at the back of
lovely views, it is
the garden, and traditional larch-lap fencing by the
a garden on a slope that has been cultivated for
house, but I wanted to start with something better
generations. There aren’t any new or unusual
here. My requirements were simple: high enough
plants, but it has a sense of place and (as with
to stop our spaniel escaping, using a wire mesh
so many gardens) potential.
dense enough to keep my in-law’s dachshund
I’ll be honest, it was the garden that attracted
in and the rabbits out, while allowing future
me to the property – the house needs changes to
climbing plants free reign. The result, provided
get it right, but the garden already offers so much.
by a brilliant fencer, set the boundary for my plot.
From trees to a small pond, an old herbaceous border
This simple – but effective – new fence is just the first
The ideal fence
and aged stone walls, plus endless weeds, I’ll be seeking
step of many more that I’m looking forward to sharing
for Chris’s
inspiration and facing many of the challenges we focus
with you over the coming months, as I set about getting
new garden.
on in The Garden each month. I can’t wait.
my garden into shape. I hope you enjoy reading about it.
RH
rhs / Neil Hepworth
Editor of The Garden, Chris Young’s monthly update from his new Northamptonshire garden
f rom m y ga r de n
A passion for the peculiar
Richard Johnston
Author: Helen Dillon, gardener with a sheltered garden in Dublin, Republic of Ireland
helen dillon
What do I really mean when I say ‘I want a plant’? Is it particularly
beautiful? Has it got a ravishing scent? Will it transform the garden
into higher realms, where at dusk the shadows of Vita or Rosemary or
Gertrude contemplate my efforts? Or is it like collecting stamps,
in which I seek out the rare double form, or that peculiar-looking,
blotchy-leaved, reputedly unobtainable plant, of which the onlyknown specimen of this otherwise unrecorded stranger lives padlocked in the potting shed of the even
more-peculiar owner of a Plant Heritage National Plant Collection?
I often want a plant because it is so decent, reliable and honest, such as Lathyrus vernus (spring pea),
a happy little plant. I have lots of this, in pink, white and blue, as well as its light orange cousin L. aureus.
We have just moved house (of more anon) but years ago, when I started gardening, I always had to buy
two of every plant because my ‘new best friend’ would insist on having a piece – that minute. Eventually
I learned to hide new plants, by putting an upside-down bucket on top of them when she was around.
How I would love to buy another plant of the thrilling Ixia viridiflora, an Iris relation with divine pale
turquoise petals, but it is now especially scarce in the wild in South Africa, due to habitat destruction.
Also, I do not think it is my place to try another – having already killed it twice.
Ixia viridiflora
January 2017 | The Garden
15
Comment
pl a n t s a n d p e o p l e
growing associations
John Grimshaw on cultivating plants connected with friends, events or people we admire
RHS / Neil Hepworth
A few weeks ago I was given a
plant of elephant’s-foot yam
(Dioscorea elephantipes),
a native of dryish places in
southern Africa that forms a
large and rather ornamental
tuberous stem above ground.
New shoots emerge from it in
the wet season, dying back as
drought returns. It is popular
with succulent growers but the
plant is something of a white
elephant’s-foot for me.
Without a greenhouse it has to
live on a windowsill – in fact,
the study windowsill, so it is
under my nose as I write. I
worry that I cannot grow it
well, it’s too dingy, or temp­
eratures aren’t right – though
at least it’s not something one
has to water too often. So why
do I have this plant?
It came from a dear friend,
that’s why. He grew it from
seed collected in South Africa some 25 years ago and has
nurtured it ever since. Now elderly, he has entrusted it to my
care, and for that reason it will be cared for as best I can until
I, too, need to pass it on.
Growing to remember
Gardeners are fortunate in being able to pass on plants they love,
whether as a solid lump of a succulent or as a cutting or pinch of
seeds that will keep a memory green. My garden is well stocked
with such memories, but while many of the donors are still very
much with us, sadly some are not.
Just outside the study window is a clump of Anemone fanninii.
This is a robust species from the Drakensberg mountains, South
Africa, with leathery lobed leaves up to 30cm (12in) across and
(potentially) tall stems bearing big, multipetalled white flowers.
‘Potentially’ because it has never achieved them for me – it has
tried but been thwarted by frost or slugs. The foliage alone
guarantees its place, regardless of
non-flowering, or its painfully slow
rate of increase. It came from Cally
Gardens in Kirkcudbrightshire in
2005, collected and grown on by the
remarkable plantsman Michael
Wickenden, whose death in northern
Myanmar in October 2016 has
shocked his friends and admirers.
The numerous good plants
distributed from Cally Gardens
over the past 30 years will
remind many of us of him
for years to come.
The longevity of plants, or
their clonal descendants,
has long been a personal
fascination. In the Yorkshire
Arboretum we grow plants
collected by plant hunter
Reginald Farrer (who also
died in what was then Upper
Burma, in 1920) including an
elegant spruce, Picea farreri,
named for him 60 years after
his death.
Others may have a myrtle
derived from Queen Victoria’s
wedding bouquet, and many
will unknowingly be growing
the original clone of Wisteria
sinensis to be introduced. It
came from the garden of a
Chinese merchant in Canton,
now Guangzhou, and was first imported by tea clipper in 1816.
Most gnarly old wisterias are this clone.
In Uppsala in Sweden the Linnaeus Museum preserves not
only his home and garden but some living plants that he used as
type specimens, including hardy succulent Jovibarba sobolifera.
Guests of the museum are sometimes given a bit, and through
the pass-along network it grows here. It gives me a little thrill
every time I see it – a plant grown in the 18th century by Carl
Linnaeus, the botanist who formalised the system of naming
plants and other organisms so widely used by us today.
Even commonly grown clones can be ancient – familiar
double snowdrop Galanthus nivalis f. pleniflorus ‘Flore Pleno’
was first recorded in 1703, and the circumstances of the first
flowering in 1620 of the ubiquitous double daffodil that we
now call Narcissus ‘Telamonius Plenus’ were related by
herbalist John Parkinson. Snowball bush (Viburnum opulus
‘Roseum’) was known in the 16th century, and the great double
red peony Paeonia officinalis ‘Rubra
Plena’ was grown in England by 1548.
Some old roses may well have been
enjoyed by the Romans, and saffron
(Crocus sativus) was cultivated in
Minoan Crete at least 3,500 years ago.
Few of us could aspire to owning a
Minoan artefact, but for a few pence
anyone can acquire a Minoan plant.
‘It gives me a little thrill
every time I see it – a plant
grown in the 18th century
by Carl Linnaeus…’
January 2017 | The Garden
17
The Garden | January 2017
We were surprised to see a strange plant
growing through a crack in our patio early
in 2016. After discussing a few possibilities,
we realised it was a pumpkin plant. It
proceeded to creep along the patio and
produced a large green pumpkin. When our
grandsons harvested it in late October it
weighed 6.5kg (14 lb) – the largest pumpkin
we had ever grown – but it remained green.
We now realise that it must have grown
from a seed dropped by our grandchildren
in 2015, when they carved their pumpkins
for Halloween. What a wonderful surprise
provided by nature.
Geoff and Joyce Warrell, Hampshire
✤ Helen Bostock, RHS Senior Horticultural
Advisor, replies: ‘Thank you for sharing this
story with us. Members of the pumpkin and
squash family are great to grow and can
readily come from seed. They are not averse
to interbreeding which means seedlings
often don’t come true (so the fruit on your
unexpected plant may not look the same
as the original pumpkins). The Halloween
pumpkin that your grandsons carved out
will likely have been grown in a field and so
could have been open-pollinated with any
number of other pumpkins or squash grown
on the farm or nearby. With both summer
squash and courgettes, this cross-pollination
can lead to bitter-tasting fruit.’
www.rhs.org.uk For more
information on growing pumpkins,
search ‘Pumpkins’ at the RHS website.
Kniphofia ‘Erecta’
Autumn flames
The cover line from November’s The Garden
aptly describes the Prunus jamasakura
(hill cherry) in my garden. Seed raised,
it is now almost 30 years old and a multi­
stemmed, small (5m/16ft) tree. It has a
short-lived blaze of autumn colour which
I expectantly look forward to each year;
however, for four years now that pleasure
has been absent. Seemingly unsettled by
the warm, wetter autumn conditions, the
leaves have been changing from green to
brown with no attractive autumn display.
For 2016, however, I am pleased to report
that my tree made its adjustments, and
during just 10–14 days at the start of
November the colours changed from green
to maroon, then bright orange and yellows,
through to a final brown before they fell.
Interestingly, the timing of this has moved
considerably during the past decade – the
display used to start mid-September,
coinciding with the clear sunlit days and
the first overnight frosts.
Roger Bailey, Hampshire
Growing chestnuts
The Worrells’ pumpkin, which
grew from a crack in the patio.
Therapeutic gardening
Since joining the RHS as a mature student
in 2015, and through my studies in Social
and Therapeutic Horticulture (STH) I have
been interested in references in The Garden
to gardening as therapy. I was not surprised
at the reports of physical, mental and
social benefits. As Nicola Stocken says
(Comment, June 2015): ‘There is nothing
new about the idea of gardening as therapy’.
Indeed, the modern-day version of STH is
grounded both on a long-held understanding
of the people-plant connection and on
modern theories and models of occupational
therapy which recognise that ‘meaningful
activity’ such as gardening is important for
health and wellbeing.
I have been surprised
that little mention has
n
been made of the
many therapeutic
gardening charities
and projects in the
UK and beyond.
These use STH to
support people with
physical disabilities,
mental illness, autism,
post-traumatic stress
Leading charity
Thrive uses
disorder, dementia and
gardening to help
more, to gain improved
with ill health or
health and wellbeing
disabilities in a
process known
through gardening.
as Social and
These projects have
Therapeutic
wonderful, positive and
Horticulture.
inspiring stories to tell
of the achievements of
their clients and the successes
of therapeutic gardening.
I encourage all gardeners, whether novice
or experienced, if you also have an interest
in people and some spare time, to seek
out your local STH project and ask if it
would welcome the support of a garden
volunteer. You will see the therapeutic
benefits for the clients you support as well
as feeling them for yourself.
Clare Farley, Oxfordshire
na
Self-sown surprise
The item in November (RHS Advice, p36)
on growing plants from nuts reminded
me of driving through the Avenue of
Remembrance in Colchester nearly
40 years ago. We stopped so our young
daughters could gather sweet chestnuts
that had fallen from the trees. These were
placed in a plastic bag and brought home
before being forgotten for a while. Some
time later the chestnuts had sprouted and
I planted some in the garden. One is
now a large tree, which for several years
has produced chestnuts.
This year, however, there seem to be fewer
chestnuts, and they are somewhat smaller
– perhaps due to the lack of rain. Of course
it is possible the squirrel beat me to it.
Mary King, Essex
Wildlife in gardens
I agree with Kate Bradbury (Comment,
November 2015, p21) on the issue of
gardening for wildlife ahead of beauty. It is
the first time I have read that goldfinches
love lavender, a fact I can vouch for, having
seen a flock on the one plant that was left
untrimmed in our own garden
– an excellent excuse for not
cutting them back too soon.
I am pleased to see a
wildlife section now included
in the monthly ‘Jobs to do’ in
The Garden, to support the
needs of garden wildlife.
Anne Tucker, Devon
Goldfinches eat seeds in gardens
year-round, and enjoy lavender or
agastache if left uncut in autumn.
January 2017 | The Garden
19
northeastwildlife.co.uk
18
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comments to:
The Garden,
RHS Media,
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PE1 1TT or email
thegarden@rhs.
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Letters may be
edited for
publication.
Af
kirstie young
Allotments are lost all the time, the
beautiful rectangles of apple trees,
nasturtiums, bean poles and paths
swept aside for houses and roads.
Losses in 2016 include those at
Brooke Road, Oakham, Rutland;
Evesham Abbey, Worcestershire;
Tarporley, Cheshire; Coombe,
Gloucestershire; and likely more
that just went quietly, the plot
holders who were only ever in it for spuds and fresh air
left baffled and silenced by eviction notices and legalese.
Farm Terrace, Watford, Hertfordshire was different in
two ways: the plot holders took the fight further than any
have before; and they documented it all in a savvy social
media campaign. The group organised quickly, crowd
funded for legal fees, engaged an excellent lawyer, and
took Watford Council to the High Court. And those of us
following the case from afar saw pictures of the beautiful
site and its bountiful crops
(so we were ready with
the quizzical eyebrow
when councillor Dorothy
Thornhill described it as
‘a really hideous, derelict
site’), and got to know the
people affected, from feisty
and tireless spokeswoman
Sara Jane Trebar to
81-year-old Vincenzo.
Children join in the campaign
to save Farm Terrace, Watford. We cheered as we saw
the joyful vegetablestrung railings outside the High Court. We were invested.
Farm Terrace won twice, but the Council took them
back to court each time, and finally won. With no further
legal avenues to pursue, Farm Terrace was forced to end
its campaign. And so we then witnessed Sara Jane’s
heartbreak, saw the keys being handed in, and Vincenzo
tearfully locking up on the final day. Plot holders around
the country were moved to post pictures of their own
plots with the hashtag #iamfarmterrace, a moment of
solidarity and a recognition of our own vulnerability.
So no, it didn’t end so differently, but I do hope that this
canny use of social media has engendered a new sense of
camaraderie among scattered allotment holders. Telling
the inside story strengthens empathy and community.
So thank you, Farm Terrace, for taking the hard road, and
for showing us a new way to pull together. And maybe
the next campaign will succeed.
do you
agree?
Helen Dillon’s comments about Kniphofia
‘Erecta’ (November 2015, p15) reminded us
of our first encounter with this plant while
visiting Helen’s garden in Dublin about 10
years ago. We were immediately smitten
with it and Helen generously gave us an
offset. We successfully established the
plant, and included it in our display at the
RHS London Shades of Autumn Show 2013,
but we only had a limited number of plants
for sale. This plant was raised in France in
the 19th century and although it can be
seen occasionally in private gardens and
places such as the Sir Harold Hillier Gardens
it is rarely available to the gardening public.
We are pleased to have now had the
plant micro-propagated and will have
plants at the RHS Rosemoor and Wisley
Flower Shows in 2017. In addition to being
of historical interest this plant provides
impact, is a talking point in gardens – and
deserves to be more widely grown.
Chris and Lorraine Birchall,
Tale Valley Nursery, Devon
n
The Garden columnist Lia Leendertz salutes a
campaign that lost its plot but gained a following
Curious Kniphofia
Sea
Fighting for
allotments
letters
rhs / Leigh Hunt
B e yo n d T h e b o u n da ry
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