Archive for May, 2010

From one extreme to the other!

Wednesday, May 26th, 2010

Last time I was complaining about the frost scorching my pumpkin seedlings, and this time I am going to mention that the extremely hot sun this week has made my vegetable patch almost dessert like!  What I would really like now, and I am sure many other gardeners would agree, is some rain to hydrate my seedlings automatically!  Anyway,  earlier this week I served up a salad made from my homegrown lettuce and rocket with some spring onions that I planted from seed in the Autumn.  I thought I would  astonish my teenage daughters and their friends with my organic offerings, but sadly this generation are not easily impressed!  I still get enormous pleasure from growing my own fruit and vegetables and providing this nourishment for my family  …  I hope that when they are grown up they may be inspired too!

The weeds are sprouting at a great rate with these perfect growing conditions …  I have been hoeing regularly and although I have been taking great care around the seedlings, I have  reapplied some Slug and Snail Deterrent   around my lettuce plants to ensure there are no gaps allowing access to the slugs.  I have also applied the Slug and Snail Deterrent around the bases of my hostas that have, as if by magic, reappeared  in my tubs.

Now that the weather seems set to stay warm, I have been busy planting up some hanging baskets and tubs ….  my father-in-law very kindly shared with me some beautiful plants including Geraniums,  Bizzy Lizzie’s and Petunias that he has been nurturing in his greenhouses.  I am also experimenting with a hanging basket with tomatoes this year too, and have just given it the first feed of EcoCharlie Tomato Feed

 

And as for my hens ….  well they love this sunny weather, and have been laying consistently well …  in fact now is the time of year I make meringues and lemon curd with the left over egg yolks  ….   I have made one batch already, and will be making more this weekend.  This is the recipe I use for the Lemon Curd

 

LEMON CURD

Makes 2 small jam jars
zest and juice of 4 unwaxed lemons
200g sugar
100g butter
3 eggs and 1 egg yolk

Put the lemon zest and juice, the sugar and the butter, cut into cubes, into a heatproof bowl set over a pan of simmering water, making sure that the bottom of the basin doesn’t touch the water. Stir with a whisk from time to time until the butter has melted.

Mix the eggs and egg yolk lightly with a fork, then stir into the lemon mixture. Let the curd cook, stirring regularly, for about 10 minutes, until it is thick and custard-like. It should feel heavy on the whisk.

Remove from the heat and stir occasionally as it cools. Pour into spotlessly clean jars and seal. It will keep for a couple of weeks in the refrigerator.

I have been using the automatic plant watering system for my indoor conservatory houseplants, and my final job for today is to go and top up the bottles with water on the Aquadrip spikes ….


Doing battle

Monday, May 24th, 2010

The badger has visited the garden again.  First he circumnavigated the garden and came in at the back breaking a fence panel to get into our garden.  We replaced the fence panel, repaired the damage to the grass and had one night without damage.  Last night he must have spent the whole night breaking through the wire fence at the front of the garden again but we did not have any damage to the grass.  perhaps he had used up all his strength.  We have dug two garden forks into the ground where the damage is and hope that he doesn’t break through again.  Tomorrow we will repair the fence with some stout wire and I think that we will have to invest in an electric fence.  The second thing that we have a problem with in this garden is bindweed. No sooner have I weeded an area and untangled and dug up the bindweed than it has grown again.  It is a very difficult weed to deal with and I think patience is needed.  If my borders weren’t so full of plants I could use a Glyphosate weed killer but I have too many plants squashed together for that so hand weeding it is.  It is always much easier with a glass of wine to hand!

the new badger damage

the new badger damage


A shocking site

Thursday, May 20th, 2010
Badger damage

Badger damage

I opened the curtains to another beautiful day.  As I gazed over the garden I suddenly noticed that during the night we had had a visit from the badger.  He or she or maybe  there was a party of badgers but anyway they had dug up the whole lawn.  I think they were looking for earth worms and I can only assume  they had found lots judging by the huge mess they had made.  There are holes and bits of grass everywhere which will take me along time to repair.  I have found the hole where they are getting in and intend to repair it today as well although I think I might be onto a losing battle.   On a happier note as I sit here writing this blog there is a pair of swallows swooping and diving around my head.  They seem to be eyeing up my wood shed as a potential nest site, I do hope they stay I will let you know in future posts.


First rose

Monday, May 17th, 2010

As I opened the curtains this morning I was delighted to see the first rose in my garden flowering away.  It is a very mature Rosa banksiae Lutea which is a brilliant yellow. It covers the whole side of my house and is aabsolutely stunning.   Because it is using so much energy at the moment I have given it a feed of  Ecocharlie Rose plant food to give it extra nutirents and keep it flowering for longer.

My beautiful rose

My beautiful rose


The May Tree.

Monday, May 17th, 2010

Right about now hedgerows, parks, woodlands and gardens across the land are full of frothy white blossom, which is itself buzzing with a multitude of hoverflies and bees. Richly evocative of an English spring, there’s little that’s more eye catching or pleasing to all of the senses than a May Tree in full flower.

A young Hawthorn, or May Tree.

One of the most marvellous and beautiful of our native trees Crataegus mongyna – AKA Hawthorn, Whitethorn, Haegthorn, Quickthorn or May Tree – has an ancient relationship with mankind.

The old Anglo-Saxon name Haegthorn – literally the “Hedge Thorn” – as well as Quickthorn – referring to the value of the plant as a living, impenetrable barrier – shows that it has long been the most valued of hedging and boundary plants. But the Hawthorn has much more to offer than a life as a prickly hedge. These are truly multi-season trees. In good seasons the foliage turns bright red in October.

Hawthorn berries, all a-glow.

Autumn also sees them smothered in tiny bright red berries (the “Haws”). These are packed with antioxidents, vitamins and minerals and are an invaluable pre-winter food source that is harvested by anything and everything that can get to them.

As well as providing great autumn viewing interest to us those berries are a guaranteed bird magnet and they alone make a Hawthorn a near-essential element of any wildlife garden.

Actually much of the plant is edible in one way or another. As well as the fruit that are traditionally turned into jellies and jams the young leaves can be eaten as a salad vegetable, or cooked and added to soups whilst the flowers and flower buds make a pretty and tasty garnish.

Would you like Hawthorn leaves with that, Madam?

Hawthorn wood has long been used for carving, whilst the tough root wood is traditionally used for box making. The trunk wood is also unusually dense and burns at an extremely high heat, so was the wood of choice for smelting iron.

Those individually delicate pure white flowers open from tiny, pink-blushed buds and, after being pollinated, the flowers age back to pale pink before falling in a carpeting confetti shower in early June. Other forms have much deeper pink flowers and these make a pleasing landscape contrast with the white.

Not surprisingly, given it’s long association with mankind and ubiquity in the landscape Hawthorns have many magical and pagan connections, legends and tales associated with them.

Their thorny nature as well as their often somewhat gnarled, Tolkein-esque appearance saw them approached with some trepidation and considered the haunt of  faeries, elementals and assorted enchantments.

A pink, double-flowered Hawthorn.

The common name of May Tree comes from the plants role in traditional May Day celebrations, when both people and their houses were dressed with May blossom (“bringing home the May”).

The popular rhyme “Here we go gathering nuts in May” was sung by the young men, gathering not “nuts” (which are around in Autumn rather that Spring) but “knots” of May blossoms for those May Day festivities.

Those celebrations, which are still richly enjoyed across much of the country - including our Devon neck of the woods – are all about welcoming the arrival of spring, new life and new growth.

Folks “wear the green”, by decking themselves in Hawthorn greenery and flowers, whilst the appearance of the early May blossom always had great significance and itself symbolised the beginning of new life and the onset of the growing season.

Snowy white blossom.

Hawthorns are also extremely long lived. The most ancient of all trees in France is a Hawthorn, reputed to be over 1700 years old.

The oldest British specimen, known as “The Hethel Old Thorn”, grows near Norwich and is believed to be around 700 years old, whilst the most legendary is undoubtedly the famous Glastonbury Holy Thorn in the old ruined Abbey.

Possibly even better news is that Hawthorns are ridiculously easy to grow, and failure is pretty much impossible. They will grow in virtually any soil (aside from a perpetually wet one) and will cheerfully inhabit any aspect.

A single flowered pink form.

Here we have them planted everywhere from full sun to deep shade, although they certainly flower better when given a sunny aspect.

In a completely ideal and open situation they can eventually reach as much as 8 metres (25 feet) in height and breadth. Where space is more limited Hawthorns can also be severely pruned to any acceptable size and shape without compromising flowering.

So from a historical, cultural, culinary, wildlife and aesthetic point of view the Hawthorn is one very special native tree. Why not join in an ancient English tradition and find a spot to plant your own May Tree today.


And the answer is…..

Friday, May 14th, 2010

Actually, first here’s the question for you:

Which plant, when grown here in Blighty,

1) has absolutely no garden pests – nothing from slugs to rabbits to deer will touch them,

2) despite being a shrub requires no pruning,

3) once planted is unlikely to need real maintenance of any kind in the garden, save for maybe a decent annual mulch,

4) is ridiculously hardy, down to about -25C at least,

5) produces some of the most spectacular, highly fragrant and breathtakingly beautiful flowers of any plant anywhere,

6) was, very possibly, the first plant anywhere on earth to be grown for purely ornamental reasons,

6) is flowering right now,

7) oh, and is the number 1 subject of Japanese tattoos…

Give up?

The answer is the Tree Peony, or more accurately the Tree Peonies.

Paeonia Golden Thunder.

Emblematic of several Eastern countries, Peonies have permeated Japanese and Chinese art and culture for millennia where they have always been deeply revered.

Paeonia, the slightly awkwardly spelled genus to which they belong, is a highly distinctive group of less than 40 species.

Despite many attempts to lump them in with various other plants, (particularly the buttercup family) recent genetic studies have revealed that these ancient and highly aristocratic plants are not closely related to anything else.

Paeonia suffruticosa.

Of those 40 species more than 30 are herbaceous and disappear entirely below ground each winter.

The remaining 8 are woody and slowly build a permanent branching structure, much like any other shrub. Reducing things still further just 4 of those 8 species (namely: P. delavayi, P. ludlowii, P. rockii, and P. suffruticosa) are widely cultivated.

Thanks to several thousand years of intensive cultivation and hybridization in the East those 4 have, between them, been responsible for the creation of a multitude of forms and colours, some of which are now readily available for gardeners to plant and enjoy here in the West.

Cultivation.

Paeonia delavayi.

Tree Peonies are not hugely fussy about most aspects of their cultivation and are extremely easy to please in the garden. Plants may be seed grown (the species) or grafted onto a rootstock (the named cultivars).

If grafted, and supplied bare root, then they should be planted deep, with the graft union around 8cm beneath the surface of the soil. This helps to stimulate the grafted plant to create it’s own roots, and forms a stronger plant in the long run. Potted plants should be supplied in very deep pots, having already been planted with the graft union underground.

Soil type is not particularly important. The driest and wettest sites should be avoided, certainly, as should sites in deep shade. In the wild most species grow in quite bright, open situations, on poor soils, and although the plants will thrive in complete shade in cultivation, they will certainly flower much better in a reasonably sunny position. Good air flow is useful too, and will help prevent any fungal disease, although a site with too much exposure risks having the often large flowers smashed in high winds.

Growth habit.

P. ludlowii - new growth unfurling.

Tree peonies are never fast growers, and could certainly never be accused of romping away. Typically a plant will put on perhaps 15cm of new growth each season and will eventually form an attractive, dome shaped shrub of around 2 metres by 2 metres.

The foliage is extremely handsome in it’s own right. The leaves of P. ludlowii & P. delavayi in particular are very large and very heavily divided into various intricate patterns. This foliage is generally cut back by the first hard frosts leaving the thick, densely woody stems over winter. New shoots start to appear in March and (in my experience at least) are completely untroubled by frosts.

The enormously fat flower buds develop alongside the new foliage and  open in succession throughout May and on into June, depending on the temperatures. The species will also set large amounts of seed, from which new plants can easily be germinated.

The species.

Paeonia ludlowii.

Although the hybrids are very spectacular the smaller flowered species from which they were derived are also extremely garden worthy.

P. delavayi (with incredibly intense, blood red flowers) and P. ludlowii, (with larger canary yellow flowers) are very closely related to one another and often considered part of the same species.

Both are widely available as very good value seedling plants, which will flower when only 30cm or so tall, and are to be highly recommended.

P. rockii form.

P. suffruticosa is the Chinese species that forms that backbone of all of the Tree Peony hybrids.

It is widely variable in the wild, with flowers ranging from white through pink to deep crimson and it’s this variation that has provided so much material for generations of plant breeders.

Finally P. rockii (named after the Austrian-American botanist Joseph Rock) is another widely variable Chinese species, but the finest and most sought after forms have single or demi-double flowers that are pure white with black-red markings in the throat. Although there are numerous variations on that theme they are collectively known as the Rock Peonies.

The hybrids.

Paeonia Botan Pink

With such a long and important history of cultivation there are, not surprisingly, innumerable hybrids and named forms in China and Japan.

Widespread interest in the UK has only really taken off in the last 15 years or so, and there are now a number of specialist suppliers who are introducing the Asian hybrids (often under their true Chinese names, sometimes under Anglicised versions) in increasing numbers.

Most of these are regarded as heritage plants – i.e. amongst the heirlooms of the gardening world – and many command hefty price tags that reflect the slowness of grafting and the limited quantities of plant material.

A single flowered P. suffruticosa/rockii hybrid

Flower forms encompass singles, semi-doubles  and full doubles, whilst colours range from white through all possible shades of pink and red, together with yellows and a few peachy/oranges, some with contrasting streaks and stripes in the petals and many with darker centres, where these are visible.

For me, though, the beauty of the Tree peony flower comes through it’s simplicity and purity of form.

The single-flowered white, yellow, and intensely red plants, each with a contrasting boss of golden stamens, some with that dark central “eye” and many with a beautiful perfume, together sum up the glory of the garden on the very cusp of summer.


Poorly Pumpkins!

Thursday, May 13th, 2010

 

For the last three mornings I have woken up to a ground frost, and today I regret not taking better care of my newly planted pumpkin seedlings  …  they seem to have been doomed from the beginning .. first the mice dug up the seeds and ate them! And now Jack Frost has visited my vegetable patch and decided that the pumpkins are not to be, and has damaged them beyond repair.  Determined to not be beaten in the quest for homegrown pumpkins for Halloween,   I planted out a packet of seeds directly into the ground when I planted my seedlings, so I am hoping they will germinate when the soil warms up, and produce some heavyweight fruits!

On the chicken front, I have had a poorly hen too :(   Her tail feathers were looking a bit mucky, so I tried to bath her in a bucket of warm water, and then on closer examination, I found that she had louse eggs firmly cemented to the base of her feathers.  After seeking some advice from a fellow hen keeper, I have dusted all the girls with some Livestock Louse Powder and will check later in the week, to see if the problem is under control.  I love the ethos of  the EcoCharlie Garden, and would prefer to use environmentally sustainable products as much as possible, so I researched some methods for keeping chickens fit and healthy, and found that if you add Apple Cider Vinegar and garlic to their drinking water, it works not only as a poultry tonic but also to control intestinal worms and parasites.  My garlic is growing well at the moment so we soon be self sufficient, and I have found a local source the the vinegar  … it has to be live and non-pasturised and not the sort you buy from the supermarkets.

 

 

On a more positive front, my rhubarb is immense, and I have been picking it regularly for the last couple of weeks.  This will also encourage it to keep growing throughout the Summer months.  I usually simply roast the rhubarb in orange juice and zest, fresh and ground ginger and a sprinkling of brown sugar for about 15 minutes in the Aga.  the combination of flavours works so well, and the cooked rhubarb can either simply be eaten with a dollop of creme fraiche, or made into a crumble or fool, or used with any other recipe requiring cooked rhubarb.

My next job of the day, is to sow some Cat Clear as I have a continual challenge of the neighbours cats using my front flower bed as their toilet area!  Cat Clear is an Eco-Friendly solution to feline control in all sized gardens.  It works on two instinctive properties of the plants that are grown from seed – odour and texture.

Hopefully the next time I write, the frost should be gone for this part of the year, and I can continue to plant out some of the more succulent varieties of vegetables including some courgettes.


Garden plants…from outer space.

Monday, May 10th, 2010

Asarum caudatum.

You know those slightly dodgy sci-fi movies & TV series from the 60′s, where our intrepid heroes land on some far-away mysterious planet and find it’s surface rich with bizarre and other-worldly plant forms?

Well, one of my great joys in gardening life is to seek out new, and improbable plant life-forms that can be grown in the garden.

These we affectionately refer to as “Star Trek Plants”.

They’re fun; they’re fascinating; they’re highly collectable: they’re strangely beautiful; best of all they will greatly enrich any garden. Here’s just a few favourites:

Saracenia.

Saracinia flava - red form.

Carnivorous plants are, by their very nature, pretty unusual from the get go, and many defy earth-bound floral conventions by doing away with various things that we’ve come to expect from plants. Like leaves, for example.

Following in that tradition are the Saracenia’s, the hardiest of all Pitcher Plants, and certainly the only ones that can be considered garden hardy in this country. Native to the eastern seaboard of North America, the leaves of these little beauties have vanished, fused instead into a slippery funnel that traps insects and digests their prey in a soup of enzymes.

Great fun (unless you’re a hapless fly, that is) and compellingly beautiful plants that are very much at home in a bog garden too. S. flava and S. purpurea are the ones to look for, along with a huge array of hybrids, each with distinctively patterned pitchers.

Asarum.

Asarum maximum.

If there’s an award for the most fashionable/collectable/in-demand plant in the temperate world then one or other of the 100 odd species of Asarum would have to be a serious contender. The “Wild Gingers” are actually completely unrelated to true gingers but they do exude a warm, gingery fragrance from their foliage.

They are slow-creeping plants of the woodland floor with beautifully patterned, marbled and veined heart-shaped leathery leaves. Beneath their often fabulous leaves they hold an extraordinary floral secret.

Asarum delavayi.

Their flowers vary widely but all defy conventional description. Fleshy, sometimes tubular, sometimes with hugely elongated “tails” and flaring lips in colours such as jet black-and-white, death-grey, lurid purple.

The most flamboyant varieties command huge prices in Japan and the US, but the likes of A. caudatum, A. delayavi and A. maximum are all readily available, and readily grown.

Miracles of nature on any planet, I would never be without them.

Aristolochia.

Aristolochia macrophylla.

Aristolochia, or “Dutchman’s Pipes”, are a large genus of almost exclusively tropical climbing plants with some wonderfully bonkers flowers which can reach epic proportions in the largest species.

Just one species, A. macrophylla, can be regarded as hardy, and, whilst it’s nowhere near the scale of it’s giant cousins, it does share their fabulously bizarre flower shape (the “Dutchman’s Pipe”), coupled with beautiful, large, pale-green leaves that are a perfect heart-shape. The plant is easily grown on a sheltered, sunny wall.

Paris.

Paris polyphylla.

Close relatives to the Trilliums, Paris are another legendary genus of woodland plants, that sadly have nothing to do with the French capital, but are instead, rather prosaically named after the fact that their floral and foliar parts are “paired”.

One cute little species, P. quadrifolia, is a rare British native, but it’s the Asian species that command the most devotion with their extraordinarily sculptural flowers. The petals are reduced to hair-like filaments but the remaining flower parts are hugely enlarged to expose their fascinating arrangements of orange and purple stamens and green or red-brown sepals.

Paris enjoy the same conditions as Trillium and some species follow their floral displays with arrangements of vivid scarlet fruit.

Rheum.

Rheum nobile.

Rheum are rhubarb plants on steroids. Not quite as large as the familiar bog-loving Gunneras, they nevertheless can’t fail to command attention with giant, slightly thorny foliage that is often tinted wine red.

Bold and handsome though it is the foliage in itself isn’t enough to qualify the plants for Outer Space recognition though. It’s actually the flowers, and more particularly the vast, bract-enclosed 2-metre tall floral structures of the near-mythical Nepalese species R. nobile that catapult it to the top of this list.

These yellow towers are actually protection for the true flowers that sit, completely enclosed, within. The effort of producing the flowering stems is such that the plants die after flowering, but the huge quantities of seed held in the other-worldly  flower statues ensures continuation of the species.

Dracunculus.

Dracunculus vulgaris.

Dracunculus – literally “Dragon plant” – is one of the many highly dramatic members of the Aroid (Arum Lily) family. This is one of the largest and strangest of all of the worlds plant families, and, with the mighty 3 metre tall and 2 metre wide Amorphophallus titanium,  includes the largest single flowering structure of any plant on earth.

Dracunculus vulgaris is nowhere near that size, but it does bring much of it’s giant cousins bizarre charm to the garden. Basically it’s very large, velvet textured, blood red and black flower, which has evolved to resemble a rotting corpse, with a smell to match – although only for a few days, luckily!

The species is native to the Balkans and enjoys the warmest spot you can find in the garden, where it will produce magnificent, heavily divided foliage and, just occasionally, one or two of those fantastical 90cm tall flowers.

Echium.

Echium pininana.

Echiums are another large-ish family of flowering plants, but it’s E. pininana, the so-called “Tree Echium” that makes the grade here. These plants are endemic to La Palma in the Canary Islands, but have also proved remarkably adaptable to British gardens, albeit in the most sheltered and warm positions.

E. pininana is a biennial. The plants produce a not-very-inspiring clump of low foliage in their first year of growth, but, if all has gone well and sufficient stores of energy have been built up, then year two will see an extraordinary tower emerge.

Densely packed with narrow foliage and many thousands of small blue flowers this soon becomes a giant flowering spike that can eventually reach 4 metres in height before setting seed and dying away altogether.

Cardiocrinum.

Cardiocrinum giganteum.

Not to be outdone in the giant stakes, Cardiocrinum giganteum is, essentially, a trumpet lily. But, as their name suggests, these are trumpet lilies that are keen to take the starring role in Jack-and-the-beanstalk, defying gravity to produce colossal, nearly 5-metre-tall flowering stems that are capable of putting even the loftiest Echium to shame.

It’s not just sheer size that Cardiocrinums have to offer though, their huge, pendulous white trumpets are also intoxicatingly fragrant and spectacularly beautiful, stained, as they are, with burgundy. Even the foliage is magnificent – each leaf up to 60cm across and highly glossy.

Like several of these plants, individual Cardiocrinum plants die after flowering (which can take 5 or more years from a young plant), but being bulbous they also produce a multitude of offset bulbs that can be grown on to form the next generation of giants.

They are really very hardy, but consideration should obviously be given to the size of the flowers and foliage and the most wind-sheltered spot selected, preferably with the protection of nearby trees. The more food and water the plants have access to then the bigger the flower spike that they can produce. What are you waiting for??


What’s in a name?

Friday, May 7th, 2010

The scientific or Botanical name of a plant is a key that unlocks a gateway of knowledge and information about that plant. Knowing that name will let you understand what type of plant you are dealing with, what other plants it’s closely related too, and something about the plants history or physical description. That’s really quite a lot of info to pack into just a few words, and yet, sadly, this valuable resource is too often seen by gardeners  as a source of confusion and complication.

The problem of plant names.

Ever since human kind developed language we have had names for the plants around us. Very often these were highly descriptive, but also highly localised and regional.

Arum maculatum - "maculatum" = speckled.

The common wild arum (Arum maculatum), so familiar from British hedgerows, is a good case in point. Widespread across these Isles, and also the source of many myths, as well as having been pressed into use for food, starch and even soap, the plant has, over the centuries, acquired over 100 different common names .

Lords-and-Ladies and Cuckoo-Pint are some of it’s more widespread monikers, but Devon folks called the plant Dog’s-Dribble, whilst in neighbouring Somerset it was Babe-in-the-cradle and in Sussex Ram’s-Horn.

All of which meant that even close neighbours wouldn’t necessarily know which plant everyone was referring to. This is just one example, but virtually every single European plant is in much the same boat in terms of the multiplicity of their common names.

The birth of Taxonomy.

This situation was greatly compounded when plants started to be introduced into cultivation from other countries and far away lands. It became clear than an unambiguous and universal system of naming was needed so that Botanists and gardeners alike could all know to which plant they were referring.

Linnaeus - the Swede who even gave himself a Latinised name.

The elegant solution to this problem was devised in the mid 18th Century by Carl von Linné, a Swede now regarded as the grand-daddy of Biological nomenclature.

Linnaeus, as he named himself, developed the Binomial System which was applied to plants in 1753 and then to animals in 1756. Under this system all plants are given a two part name with the first identifying the genus to which they belong, and the second the unique species that they represent.

Each species is also placed into an overarching classification that identifies exactly where it sits in relation to all other plants, and ultimately all other living things. This arrangement and classification of life is known as Toxomomy, and is overseen by the International Code of Botanical Nomenclature.

Botanical names.

Under the rules of Taxonomy the description and name of a plant must be published in Latin in a suitability respected Botanical journal or book. Back in Linnaeus’ day Latin was the unambiguous and pan-European language of scholarship, and it’s the adoption of this (rather than Swedish or English, say) that has secured the permanent future of his system of naming.

It’s common to refer to Botanical names as “Latin Names” but actually they are Latinised versions of words or names from many other languages, particularly Greek, so the term “Botanical Name” is both more useful and more accurate.

The meanings of names.

This is where things get really interesting from a gardeners point of view. Those Botanical names are never chosen at random and each carries useful information about the plant to which it’s attached.

Deutzia scabra - deutzia = after Jan van der Deutz + scabra = rough-surfaced (referring to the leaves).

The first half of each name is known as the Generic name, and identifies the limited group of close relatives (the genus) to which the plant belongs. Some random examples with handily descriptive names are:

Nothofagus – “fagus” is a Beech tree, “notho” means false, so a Nothofagus is a False Beech, i.e. a tree that resembles a Beech, but which is something different.

Aquilegia – “aquila” is an Eagle, and Aquilegia refers to the eagles-claw shape of the flower parts.

Magnolia, Fuchsia, Deutzia, Camellia & Stewartia – are all examples of commemorative names that use Latised versions of the surnames of the men associated with early the descriptions of each genus – in these cases, Magnol, Fuchs, Deutz, Kamel & Stewart.

Lavandula angustifolia - lavandula = blue-ish herb + angustifolia = narrow leafed.

The second half of a plant’s name is called the Specific Epithetic and identifies it’s particular and distinctive species.

These specific epithets are always usefully descriptive and cover a wide spectrum of derivations including the habit, shape and colour of a plant, it’s flowers, leaves, bark, fragrance, it’s country or region of origin, it’s season of growth or flowering, as well as various commemorative names.  Some examples:

acaulis = stemless
aestivalis = flowering in spring
alba = white
alpestris = from mountains

angustifolia = narrow-leaved
argentea = silvery
aurantiaca = orange
australis = from the south
autumnalis = of autumn
azurea = blue

Pronunciation.

Trying to figure out the correct pronunciation of Botanical Names is, without doubt, the barrier that prevents some gardeners from embracing them.

Rhododendron sinogrande - rhodo = rose-like, dendron = tree + sino = from China, grande = big!

Names like Arisaema zanlanscianense may seem a tad daunting at first, but they all carry that same valuable information about the plant that they describe,

In this case “arisaema” = closely related to Arums  + “zanlanscianense” = coming from the Chinese region of Zanlan.

In fact all English speakers already use quite a few scientific names in common speech without too many problems.

Amphibian, pachyderm, and Tyrannosaurus all qualify along with familiar, but actually quite long plant household-names, like Rhododendron for instance.

There are also five simple rules that will make the decoding of Botanical pronunciation much easier:

1. “ch” (as in Chrysanthemum) is always pronounced as a hard K

2. “ae” (as in Aesculus) is always pronounced EE

3. “ii” (as in wilsonii) is always pronounced EE-EYE

4. most vowels (including “y”) are pronounced short rather than long (as in maths, ethics, fish, box, bus, and cyst)

5. the emphasis is normally placed on the second to last vowel or pair of vowels, so Clematis should be clem-AY-tiss (rather CLEM-a-tiss) and henryi is HEN-ree-eye (rather than hen-REE-eye)  for example.

Hepatica henryi - hepatica = kidney-shaped (leaves) + henryi = after the famous Irish plant hunter Augustine Henry.

Following these five rules will enable you to pronounce virtually all Botanical names correctly. When faced with a new or unfamiliar name it’s best to sound them out one syllable at a time and then just run the syllables together.

You’ll also find that new names become much more recognisable from the constituent parts that you’ve already come across.

With a little practise the whole world of plant Botanical names and the valuable and interesting information that they hold will open up to you, and your relationship with your garden and it’s floral inhabitants will be that much the richer for it.


May at last

Wednesday, May 5th, 2010

It was a hive of activity here in West Sussex at the weekend.  Three long days for whipping the garden into shape.  We have been getting on with projects but we were keen to get our breakfast eating area sorted out, the water feature installed and planted also move an old rickety wooden arbour to its new home in the vegetable patch.  We enlisted the help of our strong handy man Barry on the Friday to dig out the breakfast area and lay hard core then shingle.  He stripped the grass from the remaining area ( keeping it for around the new water feature ) then he dug over where the grass had been.  I should say he used a pick axe to pick over the area.  This garden is on chalk so we have roughly about a foot of soil then we hit the chalk layer.  So as you can imagine this hadn’t been touch in a long time so it took quite a lot of digging and removing of rubble to make it into a border ready for planting.  Once Barry had done all the hard work I dug in some well rotted organic matter and removed more of the chalk chunks.  Then I had the fun task of planting.  I had saved some Aquilegia and daffodils from where the water feature has been placed so these went in first.  Then I scooted up to our local nursery to choose some plants.  As the border already has a lovely mix of cottage garden plants I decided to continue with this theme.  I choose some ground cover roses, camassia, hardy geraniums, geums, heuchera,  alchemillia mollis and lychnis.  These were planted quite closely so that the ground will be covered and hopefully suppress any weeds in time.  By this time it was quite late ( these lighter evenings are great for gardening) and I was in need of a glass of wine so with a chilled white in hand I gave my new border a water and said goodnight to the garden.

New water feature

New water tank

water feature

water tank in place

Day two.  Up early and after breakfast we enlisted the help of the family to lift the heavy lead tank to its new home.  The hard work had been completed again by my husband and Barry.  The circle of hard core was laid and pounded then this was covered by a layer of type 1 to make it smooth.  The tank was man handled into position with a sigh of relief and then filled with water.  Our electrician had made up an outdoor cable for us to connect into an outhouse so we could connect the pump and now we have the sweet background sound of splashy water.  On my trip to the nursery I brought some water plants to disguise the pump and give the whole pool a softer effect.

Day three started slowly with us all nursing aching muscles over with a long lazy breakfast.  Then we went out for a walk before starting on the garden projects for the day.  I decided to tackle a half dead rosemary bush that had suffered in the very cold winter.  I had left it to recover hoping that it would perk up but unfortunately some of it did not so secateurs in hand my daughter and I set to work.  We had chosen this side of the house because it was out of the very cold wind.  Once cut back we were pleased with our renovation.   As you can see a gravel mulch tidied it all up and will help to suppress any weeds and the cysistus will knit together and hopefully will flower all summer attracting insects.

sickly Rosemary bush

sickly Rosemary bush

After cutting back

After cutting back

After planting

After planting

A good job done and now for moving the arbour.

We took the roof off and managed to put it onto the wheel barrow.  Then we moved the main bulk over to the vegetable garden.  As the time had moved on we decided to stop for the day.  So watch this space as we reassemble the arbour in its new home.  I think that we will have to make a few modifications as it seems much bigger than in the original place.