News Tagged ‘Native Plants’

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.


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.


Pollination.

Monday, April 26th, 2010

Flowers and pollen.

A honeybee, covered in Dandelion pollen.

Plants in nature employ a fascinating array of strategies to ensure pollination of their flowers. When they first evolved wind was the only agent that could use to move pollen from one plant to it’s neighbour, and ancient lineages of plants such as cycads, ferns and conifers still make do with drift pollination to this day.

Much, much later on came the flowering plants. The myriad forms, colours and patterns of flowers that now exist, and in which we gardeners take such delight, all developed for one single purpose: to ensure pollination.

Flowers do this, of course, by using their none too subtle signals to attract an equally large galaxy of insects, birds and mammals to carry out their work for them.

Clouds of Pine pollen released on the wind.

This has proven to be an incredibly effective strategy and, as a result, flowering plants are able to reproduce themselves despite only producing tiny quantities of pollen.

Your average conifer, by contrast, consigns truly industrial quantities of pollen to the air each spring in the hope that a minuscule proportion of it will land in exactly the right place at exactly the right time, to ensure successful pollination.

It’s fair to say that most wild plants do successfully manage the trick of pollination in most years and are thus able to set seed and attempt to reproduce themselves.

Pollination in the garden.

An Aquilegia - a typical hummingbird pollinated flower: red and with elongated nectaries.

In the garden however, things do not always go so smoothly. Almost all of the plants that we grow as ornamentals and for food are well outside of their wild environments, and often totally isolated from their natural pollinating partners.

Not too many of us have hummingbirds visiting our gardens for instance, yet it’s they that are the wild pollination partners for a number of our red-flowered garden favourites such as Aquilegia.

Which is where hand pollination comes in.

Hand pollination.

Hand pollination is simply the pollination of a plant by “mechanical” means – i.e. by you the gardener. There are three good reasons why you might want to hand pollinate flowers in the garden.

Tomato flowers.

Firstly, many fruit and vegetable plants (tomatoes being a prime example) often need help in pollination to ensure a good crop of fruit develops.

This is particularly so when the plants are grown under glass where any potential pollinators may not be able to reach them, and where the plants may well be flowering artificially early, before most pollinators are on the wing.

Secondly, you may wish to ensure a crop of seed is produced that you can successfully harvest for sowing or distribution. In the absence of natural wild pollinators some plants will only set seed if given this additional help.

A mature stigma with a few pollen grains already attached.

In addition, in order to limit the number of genetically identical copies of themselves, many plants have developed various strategies to prevent self-pollination.

These plants are referred to as being self-sterile (heterothallic, if you want to get really technical) and they will need artificial assistance from a second donor plant in order to fruit well or to set seed at all.

Thirdly, you may, like me, wish to have a go at playing god and try to make your own hybrids. This can be extremely rewarding, and it’s certainly great fun watching new babies develop and seeing how they differ from, and hopefully improve upon their parents.

Techniques and strategies.

Anatomy of a Tulip. Dark brown pollen on the anthers of the male stamens which surround the white female stigma in the centre.

The simplest form of mechanical help that you can give a plant is to simply give it a gentle shake. Some fruit and veg plants that are self fertile (but that suffer from a lack of insect pollinators) can benefit greatly from this as the loose pollen is easily dislodged from the stamens and transferred  via gravity to the stigma. A number of glasshouse crops are pollinated in just this way and electric “shakers” are used commercially on a vast scale.

Of course this isn’t much help of you’re looking to create a hybrid or to be certain of pollination of a particular, individual flower, so this is where true hand pollination comes in.

Although the anatomy, structure and size of flowers differs hugely, the basic reproductive elements are present and correct in all of them.

Simply put, dust-like pollen grains are produced on the anthers of the male stamens and need to be received by the female stigma.

Once on the stigma the pollen grains will germinate and grow towards the ovary where they can fertilise the waiting seeds.

Hand pollination tasks.

Lily stamens and stigma.

The stages of the hand pollination are:

1) To correctly identify the stamens and the stigma in the intended flowers. Sometimes it’s blindingly obvious what’s what, but other floral anatomies, especially in small flowers, can be a bit more cryptic. The internet can usually help.

2) To figure out when the stamens are ripe and shedding pollen, and when the stigma is receptive. This is crucial.

Stamens are of no use unless they are shedding fluffy, light pollen. They only do this for a few days, so timing is important.

The stigma becomes moist and sticky when receptive, and most also change shape and curl outwards, all ploys to try to trap pollen.

Normally the stigma ripens first and then the stamens mature some time later (although some flowers operate the other way around) so you will need to keep an eye on several different flowers and use each at the right stage.

Pollen grains on a tulip stamen.

3) Transfer clean pollen from stamen to stigma. Traditionally this has always been done with a very fine artists paintbrush…which I personally think is a terrible idea.

Firstly much of the pollen is lost either in the bristles or in the act of moving from flower to flower. More importantly, once used the brush is then tainted with the pollen of that flower and needs to be sterilised with alcohol to kill the pollen residue before being used on the next variety of flower.

Unless you are only pollinating one variety of flower this is totally impractical and some flowers produce such tiny quantities of pollen that almost none would be transferred on a brush.

Hand pollinating an Iris using tweezers.

Another popular technique uses cotton buds. These are pretty good at collecting pollen and can be discarded after each plant, so there’s no danger of pollen contamination.

In my experience though much of the pollen is again lost in the fibres of the cotton and some of the flowers that I hybridize - Epimediums for example – are far too small for a cotton bud to be of much use.

By far the simplest and best idea is to use a pair of long handled, narrow pointed tweezers to pluck the ripe stigma and us it to “paint” the stigma with pollen. If the flower parts are large enough, you can simply use your fingers instead of tweezers. This way you get the maximum possible amount of pollen transferred and there is absolutely no possibility of contamination. Easy!

Painting the stigma of a courgette flower using a plucked stamen.

4) If you’re attempting to hybridize you must prevent anything else from pollinating the flower afterwards. There are two aspects to this.

Firstly you’ll need to prevent the flower from pollinating itself. The surest way to do this is to simply remove all of the stamens before they ripen and shed their pollen. This process is called emasculation, and is easily done with those same long tweezers.

Secondly you need to prevent any insects from visiting the flower.

If you are pollinating a small-ish plant then you might want to have it in a pot which will allow it to be moved indoors for a few days until whilst the stigma is still receptive.

Alternatively you can hood the flower, to prevent anything gaining access to it. Paper bags secured with cotton or cotton are ideal, and allow good movement of air and humidity, which is crucial if the pollen is to germinate successfully. The third option is to remove all of the petals from the flower so there’s simply nothing left to signal to an insect.


Hooray for hellebores.

Friday, March 19th, 2010

Some of the colours of the hellebore rainbow.

There’s no doubt that hellebores are pretty special garden plants.

Flowering at the tail end of winter, with only snowdrops and the occasional early Iris, Cyclamen and Crocus for company, these improbable members of the buttercup family never fail to inspire as they push up their multicoloured flowers and divided leaves through snow or ice, or whatever the winter weather has to throw at them.

Emerging so much earlier than most other spring-flowering plants hellebores would probably command attention even if they were small and weakly coloured.

Apricot with dark nectaries.

Thanks to generations of dedicated enthusiasts, there’s not much chance of that, and these perennials now pack a truly dramatic punch with large cup-shaped flowers in a kaleidoscope of colours from vivid green and pure white through yellow to apricot, pinks & purples and on to the most intense slate blues and deepest violet blacks.

Flower shapes vary from very rounded and cup shaped, to starry with a range of different shaped doubles. Some also have dark red or black-ish nectaries, which gives a different look altogether.

As if that range weren’t enough the flowers of many forms also come with a multitude of different markings. These have evolved to guide pollinating insects safely and accurately towards the reproductive organs of the flowers, but luckily for us it’s not just the eyes of passing bees that are dazzled by the endless different combinations of spots, blotches and lines.

A bit of Botany.

Near black - both flowers and foliage.

Before going any further I need to qualify exactly which hellebores I’m referring to. Helleborus is a small genus of around 15 species, all but one of which are native to Europe. H. foetidus (the rather unkindly named Stinking Hellebore) is actually a British native, but the large majority hail from central southern and eastern Europe, with particular strongholds in scrubby mountainous regions of the Balkans.

The only non-European species is the beautiful H. thibetanus, which, you won’t be surprised to hear, is a native of Tibet.

H. niger (the so-called Christmas Rose) and H. argutifolius are both very well known garden plants, but the large-flowered, multi-coloured garden hellebores are all very complex, multi-species hybrids based in part of the species H. orientalis.

Double white spotted.

Strictly speaking these should be called H. x  hybridus, but in reality hardly anyone used this name.

As a group the plants have widely and pretty consistently come to be known as the Orientalis Hybrids (as well as picking up the unfortunate and totally misleading moniker Lenten Rose)….having said that for simplicities sake I’m going to continue referring to them here simply as hellebores.

Cultivation.

Reverse picotee white spotted.

One of the other great appeals of hellebores is that they really are incredibly easy, tolerant and rewarding plants to grow.

In their wild habitats the species invariably live on slightly alkaline, rocky and generally pretty impoverished soils.

In cultivation they will happily grow in virtually anything you care to give them, although they will of course grow better and certainly provide a better flowering display if they have something halfway decent to sink their roots into.

Hellebores are essentially plants of open, light woodland, so a good, organic-rich soil with a free draining structure will give optimum results. They are also partial to a good feed, and though far from essential, a heavy mulch with well rotted manure in late autumn will see the plants respond with extra lush and large growth the following spring.

Green streaked picotee.

Despite their woodland origins hellebores are actually very sun tolerant and can be grown in a really wide array of garden positions, including that most difficult of all situations – dry shade.

In many ways, though, they both grow and look their best when integrated into a shady or woodland border situation, which of course also closely mirrors the habitats of the wild species.

Ongoing care.

Hellebores are evergreen, with flowers emerging before the foliage and on separate new stems.

The main care involved in growing them in the garden revolves around what to do with the previous years foliage. Many gardeners simply do nothing and leave the whole plants intact year round. There is something to be said for this since the old foliage will certainly help protect the soft new stems as they emerge in winter.

New spring flower stems.

However, those old stems and leaves can also act as snail hotels as well as potentially harbouring various fungal diseases, so the alternative approach is to cut all the previous years foliage and stems right back to ground level in mid winter.

This has the added advantage of allowing the new flowering stems to be displayed to their fullest, without last years raggedly, blotched old leaves marring their pristine beauty.

Propagation.

It is possible, with much care and patience, to divide large plants in order to propagate from highly desirable individual clones. In practice though, hardly anyone fiddles around dividing their hellebores, because they are one of the easiest and most reliable garden plants to grow from seed.

A selection of yellows.

Actually, if you leave the seed heads to develop and ripen on the plants then you’re pretty much guaranteed to find a little crop of satellite babies sprouting around their parent the following spring.

It’s great fun, and really very easy to hand pollinate your favourite coloured plants with one another to see what new colours and patterns result, but simply gathering the copious seed that naturally develops will do the job as well.

Although it is released by the plants in late spring and takes around 9 months to germinate – naturally timed to sprout as the same time that the adult plants come into growth – hellebore seed does not store well and quickly looses viability. It’s simple enough to deal with though, and should be sown as soon as possible after harvesting.

No special treatment is needed although the seed does require winter stratification to stimulate germination, so, after sowing the pots/trays etc. should always be kept outside to experience the winter cold.

Pest and Diseases.

Red picotee with dark nectaries.

Again, these are thankfully few and far between. Slugs and snails will attack young shoots but once the leaves have matured they are far too tough to be appealing to any mollusc. Aphids can likewise congregate on new growth and if not removed will lead to distorted and damaged foliage and flowers.

More importantly aphids are also suspected as the agents responsible for passing on Hellebore Black Death – an all too common viral disease that leads to large black streaks and distortion in the foliage, stems and flowers of hellebores.

A much less serious but also quite widespread problem is Black Spot, a fungal disease that causes “dead” brown blotches to appear on the foliage. Removal of old foliage and good general garden hygiene will greatly reduce the occurrence of this and indeed any other fungal problems.


Going native – using British plants in the garden.

Friday, March 12th, 2010

Cypripedium calceolus - Lady's Slipper Orchid.

The resurgent interest in naturalistic planting and in achieving a generally less formal look to our gardens has coincided with a growing awareness of wildlife-friendly gardening.

One of the very best ways to maximise both of these aims is to seek out and plant British natives in our gardens.

The last Ice Age left us with a relatively impoverished flora, and certainly those from equivalent climates in Asia or the US dwarf the total numbers of British plant species.

Nevertheless, a little research will turn up an amazing array of beautiful British natives of all types. Incorporating some of these into a garden will create a haven for native wildlife, as well as helping to properly situate a garden into its natural surroundings.

Dianthus armeria - one of our native Pinks

There’s a highly useful and endlessly dip-into-able on-line resource run by the British Natural History Museum to be found at:

http://www.nhm.ac.uk/fff/index.html

By simply tapping in your postcode you will be provided with a list of all the plants that are native to your immediate region.

Plants are listed by category – Annual, Biennial, Climber, Bulbs/Rhizomes, Herbaceous Perennials, Shrubs, Small Trees, Large Trees, Marsh Plants, Perennials and Aquatics.

What’s more the garden worthy plants are highlighted, and both common and Latin names provided.

Cornus suecica - a ground-covering Cornel.

Of course just because a plant grows naturally in your local area that doesn’t mean to say that it will thrive in your garden where conditions, habitats, soil and water levels may be utterly different. Equally plants from far distant parts of Britain may be perfect for your garden, which might mimic the conditions those plants have in the wild. Either way, the database can be a very handy starting point.

Although many town gardens are walled in and may not really connect with a surrounding landscape, together they do form a large wildlife corridor and the plants choices that you make can profoundly affect the health of your local wildlife.

Convallaria majalis Rosea - the pink Lily-of-the-Valley.

In more rural locations boundaries tend to be a bit fuzzier, and all gardens are, to one extent or another, borrowing the landscape around them, either as a view or just as a backdrop to the planting.

The more you can mimic, or at least harmonise with that surrounding landscape the more your garden will merge with it, appear more natural and immediately seem much larger too, as the exact limits of the cultivated area become harder for the eye to discern.

Although it is quite possible to plant an all-native garden you don’t have to be quite so rigid and restricted in your choices. A wide variety of close relatives of our native plants can also be drawn upon without really altering that natural look and feel.

Rosa spinosissima - Scottish rose.

Equally there are also a large number of cultivars and selections of many of our native plants, some of which improve upon the ornamental qualities of the wild plant, or at least increase the number of garden uses to which it can be put.

When planning your plantings a good approach is to plant exotics near to the house and then gradually blend into more native/natural plantings towards the boundaries.

Amongst such an embarrassment of riches in the British flora I’m going to highlight a large cross section, including some of my personal favourites together with a number of existing garden favourites that you may not even realise are British natives at all.

Euonymus europaeus - the Spindle tree.

Starting with the big stuff, that last ice age did the most damage to our tree populations, and left us with quite a limited selection.

A number of the trees that we think of as “native” (Sycamore, Yew, Beech, Chestnuts Horse and Sweet) are actually all introduced.

Still, those natives that do still exist have all been endlessly selected from down the centuries.

Scots’ Pine, (our only truly native conifer) English Oak, Spindle, Hazel, Willows, Alder, Hornbeam, Field Maple, Rowan, Cherry, Hawthorn and Silver Birch are all now available in a huge range of highly ornamental cultivars – golden leafed, cut leafed, dwarf, columnar, twisted, purple leafed, autumn colouring, heavy fruiting – you name it and it’s probably out there waiting to be planted.

Viburnum lantana.

One of our most attractive native shrubs is definitely Viburnum lantana (the Wayfaring Tree), which again comes in a multitude of different selected forms. Crab-apple, Elder, Daphne mezereum and Viburnum opulus (Guelder Rose) are other good shrubby options.

There are also 13 different British native rose species to choose from, three beautiful Cornus species, a number of fruiting plants from raspberry and gooseberry to bilberry, not to mention our native heather species.

Dominating (ornamentally at least) the climbing plants are Ivy (hundreds of different, often extremely atractive forms are available) and Honeysuckle, both of which are already widely used in many gardens of course.

Humulus lupulus 'Aureus' - Golden Hop.

Golden Hop (Humulus lupulus ‘Aureus’) is another great option, and even our native Clematis (C. vitalba) has a certain fluffy charm.

Where the British flora really comes into it’s own though is in the perennial and bulbous departments.

There are literally hundreds of highly garden-worthy native ferns, grasses, woodland and meadow plants, not to mention orchids, marsh and water plants:

5 species of Primula, the marsh fritillary, Paris quadrifolia, 2 native Iris, gladioli, sedums, Aquilegia, foxgloves, bugle, wood anemone, marsh marigold, hellebores, violets….

Aquilegia vulgaris - our native Columbine.

Lily-of-the-valley, 11 species of Geranium, snowflakes and snowdrops, Arum, Dianthus, poppies, pattern-leafed celandines, euphorbias, 3 species of thyme, saxifrages gallore, bluebells, daffodils, ox-eye daisies large and small, cornflowers, mallows, wild sages and some of the world most beautiful ferns and orchids….well, hopefully you get the idea.

These are certainly not plants that you have to struggle to accommodate in any garden, and, once you start to investigate, the ornamental possibilities are pretty much endless.


All hail the Daffodil.

Friday, February 26th, 2010

So, after a long and very hard winter (including the coldest day ever recorded down here in Devon) we are at long last on the cusp of Spring….and if there is one flower that single-handedly epitomises the season of rebirth it definitely has to be the sunny daffodil.

Narcissus pseudonarcissus.

Although we now think of Daffodils as being a ubiquitous mainstay of pretty much every garden, it was only around 150 years ago that they really caught the imagination of gardeners and in particular plant breeders in a big way. The 25 to 50 wild species (botanists disagree a lot on this!) were all brought into British cultivation around the middle of the 19th Century, since which time several generations, and many hundreds of Daff obsessives have dedicated their lives and gardens to breeding new forms.

The wild species that is so commonly seen brightening up British hedgerows in springtime is Narcissus pseudonarcissus, a real little charmer, full of nodding delicacy and subtle, harmonious colour.

Narcissus 'Tracey'

It has to be said, though, that for much of the history of Daffodil breeding, the emphasis has been on creating bigger, bolder, blowsier flowers, and many of the current hybrids are grossly enlarged from their wild counterparts and come in an array of improbably gaudy colours.

These hybrids may look appealing in colour catalogues, but can suffer from a few weather-related problems when growing in your typical garden – they easily snap and tear in strong winds, are damaged by heavy rain and scorched by sun.

Like much else in the garden, fashions in Daffodils and their breeding have recently shifted somewhat, and the emphasis for many has reverted back to producing weather resistant, easily cultivated Narcissi will readily naturalise in the garden and that (even where they have resulted from convoluted inter-breeding programmes) have an essentially wild-flower look to them.

For convenience all garden Narcissi are grouped into 13 separate “divisions,” each of which bring together hybrids that resemble one another under headings such as “double-flowered” or “small-cupped.” Also amongst these divisions are groups of Daffodils derived from particular wild species, and three of these incorporate those wild-looking, easily cultivated Narcissi.

Narcissus 'Thalia'

Division 5 Daffodils all originated from the species Narcissus triandrus - an exceptionally pretty plant native to Portugal and Spain.

Most of the garden forms are hybrids and back-crosses with our own N. pseudonarcissus, which was used to bring vigour and hardiness into the mix.

Commonly known as Angels’ Tears Narcissi, these generally carry two or three smallish flowers on each 30cm stem and come in a range of whites, creams and yellows.

‘Thalia’ is an old, widely available, pure white hybrid that is a very good do-er which naturalises extremely well in grass. ‘Petrel’, ‘Ice Wings’ ‘Tresamble’ and ‘Niveth’ are other good creamy whites, ‘Lemon Drops’ has contrasting yellow trumpets whilst ‘Liberty Bells’ is one of the best pure yellows.

Narcissus 'Rapture'

Division 6 is the home of the Narcissus cyclamineus hybrids.

This is another species native to southern Europe, but which is, nonetheless, a particularly tough and very easily cultivated garden plant here in the UK.

As its name suggests the species has flowers that (in shape at least) somewhat resemble a Cyclamen, with severely swept-back petals that, in the best forms, give a lovely just-caught-in-a-wind-tunnel effect.

Though still very much on the small side for a Daffodil, these are generally a little taller and larger flowered than the Division 5 plants, and always have one single flower per stem.

As well as white, cream and yellow, new forms are now incorporating orange and true apricot into the flowers.

Narcissus 'Cotinga'

Cultivars like ‘Tracey’ (white) ‘Warbler’ and ‘Rapture’ (both yellow) sport flowers that closely resemble the wild species, whilst ‘Cotinga’ and ‘Elizabeth Ann’ ‘Foundling’ have more rounded flowers, all with soft apricot-coloured trumpets and pure white petals.

‘February Gold’ and the beautiful creamy white ‘February Silver’ are short, tough and vigorous growing forms selected for exceptionally early flowering, although in most years this generally kicks off in March rather than February.

Finally, division 7 daffodils are the Narcissus jonquilla hybrids, again derived from a species that is native to Spain.

These can vary from quite dwarf to around 60cm tall, but they are always robust and weather resistant carrying up to five (rarely eight) flowers per stem.

Narcissus 'Cherie'

The flower shape is generally rounded; colours range from vivid daffodil-yellow through primrose together with a few white cultivars – some with orange tinted cups – but the majority are beautifully fragrant.

‘Sweetness’ and the Devon bred ‘Rosemoor Gold’ are both very easily grown pure yellow selections, ‘Oryx’ ‘Curlew’ and ‘Sweet Blanche’ are amongst the best whites, whilst the recently introduced ‘Cherie’ is an exceptionally beautiful pastel peach and white.


Getting to know your soil.

Monday, February 22nd, 2010

Selecting and arranging plants in the garden is probably one of the most rewarding tasks for any gardener, and one that many of us devote lots of time and thought too, but how many of us can say the same for the soil in which those same plants will have to grow?

Good old garden soil isn’t as pretty, glamorous or tasty(?!) as the flowers, trees and veg that it supports, but getting to knowing your soil, it’s limitations and benefits, must be one of the most useful things you can do in any plot. It will allow you to determine the range of plants best suited for success in your particular garden, and so minimise disappointments, and will also let you figure out the best methods to improve the soil you already have.

There are five different types of soil found in British gardens. Any given site can, of course, have a combination of several of these types, and there are also gradations between types, as well as extremes of each, where the gardening is at it’s most challenging. Being able to recognise your particular soil types is probably the best place to start in any garden.

Clay.

A pure clay lump - typical of subsoil that has been brought to the surface.

All soil types are, to a large extent, determined by particle size and clay soils have the smallest particles of all. Pure clay – which makes up much of the British subsoil – is just like modelling clay, the sort of thing you’d expect to find spinning round on a potters wheel. Put a glob between your fingers at it will feel smooth and putty-like.

Most clay garden soils aren’t quite as extreme as that – although individual, fist-sized balls of pure clay are not uncommon even in topsoil, and are typical of new gardens where the subsoil has been disturbed and brought up to the surface by building work.

The great benefit of a clay based soil is that it is extremely nutrient rich and capable of supporting a very wide range of plants. The downsides are all to do with that tiny particle size. When wet the soil is extremely heavy and frustratingly difficult to dig and work with. It can also be easily compacted, driving all of the air out and forming a dense, thick layer that roots can find all but impenetrable. Although clay soils are naturally very moisture retentive – which can be handy in a dry summer – when they do dry out they bake into an extremely hard, cracked surface pan which is, once again, completely unworkable.

Sand.

Sandy soil - open and free running.

A sandy soil is one with a very small percentage of clay particles, where the large bulk is instead made up of much more coarse quartz and silica originating from weathered rock. Take a chunk of this between your fingers and it will always feel gritty and loose. Unlike a clay soil, sand-based soils will never “clump” and will always be more-or-less free running when you dig through them.

Sandy soils can make for fantastic cultivation options; they warm up very easily in the spring and so promote a long growing season, they will never be water-logged and are easily worked at any time of the year. The major downsides are to do with fertility and water-retention, which are both pretty poor, or in extreme cases, non-existent. A wide array of drought tolerant, generally surface rooting plants have evolved to specialise in sandy soils, but unless you are happy to stick with these, a sandy soil will require ongoing maintenance to allow for a wide community of plants to flourish.

Loam.

Lovely loam - nutrient rich and easily worked.

Loam is a kind of generic term given to the ideal garden soil that consists of a roughly equal mixture of clay and sand, and which brings the benefits of both soil types with few if any of the disadvantages.

Loam soils are open, and easily worked but full of nutrients. They are moisture retentive in summer but free draining in winter.

There is no doubt that a loam based soil will support the widest range of garden plants with the least amount of alteration and soil maintenance. Very few “wild” soils are naturally loamy – river basins and flood plains with millennia of silt deposits are perhaps the main exception – although having a loam garden soil is, understandably, an ongoing holy grail for most gardeners. Continued cultivation and improvement will gradually move any soil towards a loamy condition.

Chalk.

Chalk soil - typically very shallow and stony.

Certain localised regions of Britain have naturally calcareous or chalk-based soils, all of which are derived from weather limestone, which is itself the result of deposition in ancient, long-since-disappeared oceans.

Chalk soils are identifiable by their light colour. They are generally very stony too, with pieces of pure calcium chalk in the mix. They can be wet and difficult to work in winter but bone dry and rock-like in summer, and their overall nutrient level is low.

Again, a specialised wild flora has evolved to thrive on chalk soils, but many cultivated plants will find conditions much tougher. Most garden plants require acidic to neutral soils in order to be able to access the full range of nutrients that they need. Chalk soils, though, are inherently alkaline in nature and, unless you plan on replacing the entire top soil, that’s not something that can be fundamentally changed.

Peat.

A very pure, black-peat soil.

The other localised soil type, and at the other extreme from the chalk soils, are the peat-based soils. All of these soils occur in regions that were once marshland, and the peat is the result of many millennia of rotting plants all deposited and compacted.

Peat-based soils are, of course, naturally acidic, and very dark in colour ranging from dark brown to pure black bog peats. This dark colour ensures that  the soils warm rapidly in spring and like loam soils, provide for a long growing season. They are also recognisable for being very light and crumbly in texture but having a poor range of nutrients naturally available.

Depending on where they are located peat soils may either be very wet and still marsh-like year round or, where the geology has displaced and raised the ground level, seasonally dry and easily cultivated. Again, a range of plants have evolved to specialise in peat-soils, and so long as the area isn’t water-logged, the gardening possibilities are rich and extensive.


Wildlife ponds.

Friday, February 19th, 2010

Having some form of water in the garden, whether running or still is certainly one of the top choices for many gardeners, wherever they may garden. Most also know that providing water, and a pond in particular, is one of the key things that you can do to help out and attract wildlife into the garden.

A very well established wildlife pond.

Not all ponds are created equal, however, and there’s a world of difference between an ornamental pond and a wildlife pond. That’s not to say that wildlife ponds are not ornamental – considering the added benefits of wildlife watching I’d say they are actually more attractive.

Equally, ponds build purely for ornament can also be useful to some wildlife, but they are just as likely to prove frustratingly out-of-reach for many species that are otherwise itching to call your garden their home.

So if you have a pond already nestled somewhere in your garden, or are pondering adding one somewhere, what are the main considerations for attracting wildlife?

Situation

First off it’s pretty critical that your pond is located in as sunny a spot as possible. Shade, whether from buildings or over-hanging trees, is not a recipe for a well-balanced aquatic eco-system. From plants to frog-lets to dragonflies, they all require the suns energy in large doses if they’re to live long and prosper.

Surroundings

Broad-Bodied Chaser - a dragonfly that specialises in colonising new ponds.

Over-hanging trees can not only serve to block out the vital light, but are also likely to deposit large quantities of fallen leaves in the water, which will either spell possible disaster for the pond-life, or a considerable amount of wet and squelchy work for you as you try to keep them out in the first place.

Tree roots also have a habit of puncturing liners – even solid ones – so be wary of locating a pond too near to them. On the other hand almost all wildlife will greatly benefit from the shelter and protection of shrubs, or taller grasses and perennials.

Virtually all visiting insects will also greatly benefit from a sun-bathing spot – log piles and large, flat stones provide perfect platforms for them to warm up on a chilly morning and can become life savers through unseasonably cold or wet summer weather.

Lining

The ideal base for any wildlife pond is certainly a natural, clay lining, but in almost all cases this is either impossible or impractical, so a butyl liner is the next best option by far. Solid moulded resin ponds are readily available but are generally both too small and too limited in design to be ideal for wildlife. They also represent quite poor value for money and often have a shorter life span than a butyl liner.

Fish

In short, fish are a major no-no. If you want a fish-pond, that’s absolutely fine of course, but realise that pretty much everything else that might otherwise want to live or feed at the pond will be pretty much annihilated by the presence of fish, which, in small garden ponds at least, are strictly the preserve of the ornamental pond.

Not only do fish feed on all of the invertebrate, amphibian and many of the plant life forms in a pond, but their manure also destabilises the chemical composition of the water and can lead to algal monocultures that are encouraged by the excess nitrogen.

Depth

Palmate Newt - by far the most common of the 3 British species.

The depth of water and in particular the variety of different depths within the pond is probably the most important consideration for attracting wildlife. Somewhere near the centre needs to have a minimum water depth of 60cm, preferably 90cm. This will ensure the pond never freezes and will provide a vital haven for a huge number of over-wintering aquatic insects and newts.

Even more crucial though (and the reason why pre-formed solid ponds don’t make for good wildlife habitats) is that the sides should be gently sloping, with shelves and shallow platforms incorporated in as many places as possible. All of these features are multi-functional; they allow amphibians to easily get in any out of the water – it’s quite possible for frogs and toads to drown in unsuitable, steep-sided ponds; they create drinking and bathing places for birds; they allow the water to heat up rapidly and form important nursery zones for tadpoles and numerous invertebrates; and they allow for a wide variety of different plants, which in turn attract and support the widest variety of wildlife.

Plantings

Sagittaria - the Arrowhead, a pretty and very useful British native marginal plant.

Pond plants come in three basic types – fully aquatic/oxygenating, floating/surface dwelling and marginal. The fully aquatic plants are crucial habitats for everything that lives in the pond, as well as being the digesting engines that keep the water clean and oxygenated. The marginals, though, are at least as important, and create an array of different mini-habitats for wildlife. These are also the most ornamental plants in the pond and allow for a huge number of different styles, looks and colour-combinations, whilst benefiting the wildlife that they live with.

The floating or surface plants (water-lilies included) are also required to create pools of shade and prevent the whole pond from over-heating. Finally, consider a run-off/overspill bog garden area at one end of the pond to encourage an even wider range of animals.

Water

Ideally tap water should never be introduced to a wildlife pond, either when it’s first created and filled, or when topping-up is needed during the summer. If possible try to collect rainwater in butts or barrels – it will be far less destabilising, and will have a chemical composition close to that of the existing pond water.

Maintenance

Blanket weed - with the patented rake removal technique.

Pond maintenance is a large-ish topic unto itself, but a well-balanced wildlife pond is much more self-sustaining, and requires far less maintenance that do most ornamental ponds.

Excess vegetation may need to be cleared out in autumn, as plants are dying back. This is also the time of least impact to the wildlife, but make sure and aquatic pond-weed is left at the pond edge for 24 hours or so to allow newts and dragonfly larvae time to wriggle back into the safety of the water. The weed can then be added to the compost heap. The appearance of blanket-weed (a filamentous form of algae) or green water (a free floating form of algae) denotes an excess of nutrients in the pond.

So long as there isn’t a major run-off of garden soil or fertiliser then balance will eventually be reached and the algae’s will largely disappear, but this happy equilibrium can take a few seasons. In the meantime blanketweed can be removed by hand or by twirling it around a rake.


Making a wildflower garden.

Monday, February 8th, 2010

The wildflower meadow - ablaze with colour.

Over the last 15-or so years there’s been a major shift in gardening tastes, with the emphasis moving ever more towards natural, ecological and wilder-looking gardens, and for many the ultimate goal is for a least a patch of their plot to emulate a real floral habitat.

Along with the ever popular woodland garden, undoubtedly the number 1 environment that most gardeners would like to invite back home is the wildflower garden. The appeal of swathes of colourful flowers growing harmoniously in a meadow, or at least a mini-meadow, is pretty powerful and evocative, and for many sums up what they like most about the British countryside.

So far so good, but it’s crucial to realise that a wildflower garden is not simply a piece of land that’s been left to it’s own devices. If you were to try that out in your own garden you would quickly find the whole thing running riot, enveloped in thick, choking weeds and scrubby interlopers whose wind-borne seeds would waste no time in taking root.

Cornflower - one of the quintessential British wildflowers.

The simple reason for this is fertility. Gardens, particularly those that have been tilled for generations, are, relatively speaking, extremely fertile bits of land that can play host to a vast array of plants. Wildflower meadows, by contrast, are notoriously impoverished of nutrients. The flowers that we all admire succeed there because they are pioneers that have evolved to exploit niches that would cause any self-respecting shrub to curl up and wither.

What all this means is that to successfully re-create that wildflower meadow in your garden is going to require some planning, work and ongoing maintenance.

Wildflower gardens can be as small as a dedicated bed or as large as a full-blown meadow, so firstly decide on the boundaries of the area that you will be working with, and also consider how it will work in relation to it’s surroundings – i.e. the rest of the garden and the hard landscaping/buildings etc. You will need a site that is, to all intents and purposes, in full sun, ideally with a southerly aspect.

Greater Knapweed - one of the best of all butterfly and bee attracting wildflowers.

Then, every vestige of whatever is currently growing in this defined area has to be completely removed, and that means the seeds in the soil too. In practice this is best achieved by whipping out the first two to three inches of topsoil. This is also the area of maximum fertility in the soil, so you’ll also be dramatically reducing the quality of the soil – which, of course is exactly what’s called for.

Alternatively consider removing an old piece of lawn. Areas with old turf can make ideal wildflower beds, since the soil beneath the grass won’t have been cultivated and will therefore be pretty impoverished. Either way once you’ve got back to the bare soil you then want to gently turn over the very surface, really just the top inch or two, and no deeper, just enough to give your incoming wildflowers something to get their new roots into.

Birds Foot Trefoil - a foodplant for many butterflies & moths.

Although it’s not essential, if you have the time and patience a good option at this point is to cover the entire area with plastic sheeting for a period of 3 months or so, which will effectively cleanse many (though not all) of the weed seeds that your new cultivation will have brought to the surface.

Your preparation efforts should be geared towards a spring planting, so that your new arrivals can get an immediate start into growth. As for what to plant, it’s absolutely crucial that you consider your soil type and moisture levels. Lots of the country’s finest wildflower meadows occur on dry chalk grasslands, which is fine if you happen to garden on similar soil, but don’t expect the same plants to survive if you have a damp, acid soil site. Try to take inspiration from the natural habitats around you, and consider the range of plants that are likely to succeed where you are.

Selfheal.

When it comes to the planting itself you can buy wildflower seed mixes and broadcast them over the whole area. The seed tends to extremely small, almost dust-like, and it can be useful to mix it with fine sand to ensure you get a good even coverage. Rake the soil over very gently after sowing, and keep it all watered if you’re planting in a dry spell. You can also buy small plug-type plants – although this is obviously impractical on a larger scale – and it’s often best to combine both approaches to get a good diversity of plants as well as a quick establishment.

Red Fescue - ideal for quickly filling in bare patches.

If you are planting a large area then you’ll also want to incorporate low growing creeping grasses such as Fescues. These will help to cover the area quickly and prevent the establishment of couch grass and other nasties.

Once everything is up and growing then keep an eye out for invading weeds – nettles, docks, and other broad-leafed weeds can arrive, but if your soil preparation was good then they won’t survive long. Also, make very sure that no fertilizer/compost run-off reaches your new wildflowers, or you’ll likely be back to square one.

When the wildflower garden is fully established then long-term maintenance consists mainly of mowing (at the very highest possible setting – or better yet strim or grab a scythe) in mid to late autumn, by which time the perennials will have started dying down and the seed heads from the annuals will be ready to return back to the soil.

If you’re lucky enough to have a large area to dedicate to a wildflower garden then think about leaving mown paths that will allow you to get right out into the midst of the action. Surrounded by the hum of bees and hoverflies, what could be better on a warm summers evening.