News Tagged ‘Winter Gardening’

Summer Cuttings.

Thursday, August 18th, 2011

Aside from all their other many distinctions and similarities, gardeners tend to fall into one of two camps: those who propagate and those who don’t. At the ago of around 10, and with able parental assistance, I built myself a little heated propagator, fuelled by a single light bulb. Into this tiny hot-house I put all manner of tropical and house-plant cuttings, those plants being my primary interest at that age. The ease with which most of my experimental subjects sprouted roots and became new, independent living plants astonished and delighted me, and from there on I was pretty much hooked.

There’s no greater encouragement than success, and I suspect that, much like myself, most gardeners who have tried and succeeded in creating new plants from old are equally hooked and continue to dabble in the art of propagation for the rest of their gardening days. Those who haven’t yet dipped their toes in the water are missing a treat. After all, what could be more satisfying than producing new plants for yourself or for friends, for free, particularly when doing so requires very little time and no particular green-fingered skill.

Newly rooted Salvia cuttings - just 4 weeks after being taken.

There are a variety of types of cuttings and times of year in which to make them, from softwood – made from the new growth of spring – to fully matured hardwood – often made over winter. Right now, though, is the perfect time of year for success with two different cutting types, taken from two different plant types. The first of these are semi-ripe cuttings of hardwood shrubs, both deciduous and evergreen. The second are soft growth cuttings made from tender perennials  such as Verbena, Pelargonium, Argyranthemum, Fuchsia, Salvias etc. Despite the obvious differences in the types of plants and the cutting material involved, the techniques for both are the essentially the same, dictated, as they are, more by the time of year rather than the type of plant involved.

Once you’ve decided upon a plant that you want to propagate the first course of action is to assemble your materials, very simple though they are. In it’s most basic form, all that you will need are:

1) Sterilized small plastic plant pots (boiling water will do the trick perfectly well)

2) Clear plastic bags (freezer bags etc.) that fit snugly over the tops of the pots and/or elastic bands to keep them in place

3) Potting compost (more of which anon)

4) Labels

5) Hormone rooting powder or liquid (optional, rather than essential)

6) Sharp secateurs (essential, rather than optional)

Semi-ripe summer cuttings are the ideal way to propagate many woody shrubs.

You’re now ready to take the cuttings. On shrubby plants choose growth that has been made earlier the same year, which will be noticeably different in colour and firmness than the previous years’ growth. The shoots should be pest and disease free and also non-flowering. Aim to make cuttings that are approx. 5 to 10 cm in length, making a straight, clean cut just below a pair of leaves or growth buds – it’s often easier to take somewhat longer shoots and then re-trim them ready for use later. Place the cuttings into a moistened plastic bag immediately, and keep in the shade, to help prevent water-loss and the subsequent wilting which can be terminal for a new cutting.

Make the cut just beneath a leaf joint.

Once back at your potting area you can further trim and prepare the cuttings, leaving just one or two pairs of leaves at the growing tip, and removing all of the lower leaves, most particularly any that would be in or upon the compost once the cutting is potted up. This reduces water loss as well as helping to minimise the risk of rotting and fungal infection. The leaf joints of plants are loaded with growth hormones, but many cuttings tend to root better and more quickly if the cut end is dipped into rooting hormone power or liquid, although this artificial hormone boost is far from crucial.

Dipping a newly trimmed Perlagonium cutting into hormone rooting powder.

The next step is the compost mixture, which, for cuttings, needs to fulfil two somewhat opposing roles. Obviously a cutting, until rooted, is unable to draw water up in the way that a fully formed plant can, so composts need to be sufficiently moisture-retentive to prevent drying out and death. At the same time the compost much be very free-draining since any hint of water-logging will likely spell rot and the rapid advance of fungal infection. The nutrient level of the compost is largely irrelevant since cuttings do not draw food from their compost until they are well rooted. With all of this in mind a good cuttings compost should be about 50% sharp, coarse, large-particle drainage material – horticultural grit or perlite, definitely NOT sand – and 50%  potting compost, preferably soil/loam or bark based.

Parent plant and new cuttings in a sharply draining grit/loam mix.

Fill one of your pots with the compost mixture, firming down well and levelling off leaving a few cm at the top of the pot to allow for eventual watering. You can then insert several cuttings around the edge of the pot (this being where the drainage is best) making sure, as much as possible, that they do not touch one another and than none of their leaves touch the compost surface. In the case of cuttings from plants with very large leaves it is often best to reduce the size of each individual leaf so that they fit more comfortably into their pot. Cuttings root best when in company, so by all means place as many as possible into each pot. Then label and water well, making sure than the water drains freely out of the bottom of the pot.

Hebe cuttings being inserted around the edge of their pot.

Then pop one of the plastic bags over the pot, holding securely with an elastic band if neccessary. It’s essential that the bag is airtight in order to maintain close to 100% humidity within. If the bag is loose or ill-fitting then the cuttings will rapidly dry out and are almost certain to fail. Further options are the use of a propagator – a commercial variant of my childhood heated cuttings frame – or an under-pot heating pad, both of which can speed up the rooting process. The pots should then be placed in good light place, but kept out of direct sunlight until they have rooted.

Rhododendron cuttings, trimmed to size and firmly sealed into their zip-lock plastic bag.

From there it’s merely a question of checking that the moisture level is maintained – the bag should ideally be permanently “fogged” inside – and removing and fallen or aborted leaves ASAP. The aim of summer cuttings is to produce new young plants for the following growing season. Some subjects will root easily and quickly, within a few weeks, but others can take several months. Look for the presence of young roots appearing at the base of the pot, and for growth appearing on the cutting itself rather than being tempted to dig around in the pot to see what’s going on. Once they have rooted then you can punch a few holes in the bag to let the cuttings acclimatise to the lower humidly outside and eventually remove the bag and pot the cuttings up individually. Again, with rapid-rooting varieties of plant you’ll be able to get them to this stage before the end of the growing season, but slower rooting cuttings should be left to go dormant and can then be potted up individually the following spring.

A fig cutting, successfully rooted and now individually potted up.


The Winter Garden: Pruning

Monday, February 14th, 2011

Many gardeners who are otherwise reasonably confident in their approach to the care of their plants become less sure of themselves when wielding a pruning saw.

Two approaches that I’ve regularly come across are :  a) ruthlessly cut everything back or:  b) do nothing. Ever. There is also a common misconception that pruning is a kind of “dark art” best left to professionals, and/or a belief that every single plant has it’s own required pruning regime, but really neither are the case, and a few simple rules will suffice for most of your woody garden inhabitants.

The other oft-seen idea is that trees and shrubs always need to be pruned on an annual basis. The most frequent outcome of this approach is that spring flowering trees and shrubs never actually flower or set fruit in such gardens, because, of course, all their lovely dormant flower buds were merrily chopped off in the name of tidying-up the plant.

Winter allows a much clearer view of the arrangement of branches.

Pruning-wise you can divide pretty much all of your flowering trees and shrubs into three categories:

1. Spring flowering, which, as in the example above, always means that flower buds are set on the previous years wood. Such plants should only be pruned immediately after flowering, allowing them the remainder of the growing season to set the buds for the next years’ flowers.

2. Summer/Autumn flowering, which generate their flower buds on new wood that is created through the course of the same growing season. These plants should be pruned in winter.

3. Tender plants, which, regardless of their flowering season, should only ever be pruned when they are in full growth and all danger of frost has passed. Earlier pruning of such plants will often encourage widespread dieback and/or trigger growth too early in the year.

In addition, Winter is the preferred time of pruning for many trees because cut branches will not bleed sap whilst they are dormant, plus the bare leafless branches allow better access to and visibility of the branches. Still, whatever the time of year, the first consideration though is why prune at all?

It’s worth bearing in mind that woody plants do not prune themselves when growing in the wild, so there is no inherent need to prune from the plants’ perspective. For the gardener, though, there are some definite benefits. Before looking at shape and size the first consideration should always be to look for and then remove any dead, diseased or damaged branches.

Wood that is dead but still attached to a tree or shrub is a prime reservoir for infection – bacterial and fungal – that can easily spread into the healthy tissue of the plant. Likewise branches already showing the effects of disease threaten the health, or even the survival of the whole plant. Bacterial canker is common, particularly on fruit trees, and an array of fungi are all too ready to set up home too.

Coral Spot - a very common fungal disease of dead branches.

Dead and diseased branches should be taken back into clean, healthy wood. On shrubs this means cutting to just above a pair of growth buds, whilst tree branches should be taken back to live wood or removed entirely back to the trunk, depending on the shape and symmetry of the plant.

Cutting back to just above a pair of live buds.

Shrubs and trees are also subject to damage over winter. The last two UK winters, in particular, have brought extremes of cold and snowfall, both of which can cause severe damage. The weight of snow and/or ice can easily cause branches to shatter and tear, leaving large open wounds, whilst severe cold on it’s own can produce bark split as the sap freezes and expands.

Major wounds are also major sources of infection, and, as before, branches should be cut back cleanly into healthy wood, thus reducing the surface area for infection and preventing necrosis from taking hold in the damaged tissue.

When taking branches back to the trunk it’s important not to leave snags and stubs. These stubs will inevitably die back, potentially infecting the main trunk. It’s even more critical not to cut into the trunk itself. Trees have a natural infection barrier that is centred on their trunk and main branches, and, where possible, they will act to isolate dying material and reduce the potential for infection… so long as that barrier is not itself damaged by poor pruning!

Cutting back to the trunk using a pruning saw.

Large branches should be handled with great care and some forethought. Their weight can easily lead to them tearing away in mid-prune, ripping the bark and causing further wounding. Such branches should be cut first on the lower side, to relieve the weight pressure, with the cut being finished off from above. It can also be handy to have a trusty helper on hand to support the weight of branches to prevent tearing and allow a clean cut.

Having dealt with the sickly, damaged wood you can then consider shaping and sizing. Again, most plants don’t need to be cut back, but they may have outgrown their position, or require attention to restore balance and create a more pleasing shape.

Young trees, in particular, can benefit from some formative pruning to encourage the development of a strong leader, or to remove twiggy side shoots, particularly in instances where you’re seeking to create a handsome, clean trunk  once the tree has grown to maturity.

Formative pruning to open up the trunk of a young tree.

Another good reason for pruning is to promote a flush of growth once Spring arrives. This is the ideal way to restore vigour to tired looking shrubs whose flowering has started to wane. Many garden shrubs end up flowering at their uppermost points only. This may be where the most light and pollinating insects will be found – which are the reasons the plant is flowering in the first place – but when such flowers are pretty much out of reach then the time for action has arrived. Consider how much growth the plant is likely to put on each season and the level at which you would ideally like to have the flowers and the “bulk” of the plant, then shape accordingly.

Many entire books have been written about pruning, so this is a necessarily brief run-through of the subject, but before you reach for those loppers, secateurs or saw there are another couple of important issues to consider. Firstly, tools. It’s no good trying to tackle a tree branch with a pair of secateurs, nor a whippy shrub with a pruning saw, so make sure that you have the right tool(s) for the right plants.

Pruning Tools to tackle any eventuality.

It’s equally important to make sure those tools are sharp or you risk creating jagged surfaces and torn bark. Finally always consider plant hygiene. If you have just removed a branch that was harbouring disease then your pruning tool will very likely be carrying the spores of that disease with it to the next healthy wood that you cut into. Disinfecting tools regularly is therefore vital. There are proprietary disinfectants that will do the job, but boiling water works equally well.

The final consideration, but again, one that need to be sorted before you begin, is on treatment of the cut surfaces. Small cuts and shrubby branches don’t require any treatment, but wounds on larger branches do need attention to minimise the potential infection.

The advice used to be to fully seal such wounds and a variety of paints and tars were (and still are) marketed for the purpose. It’s now known that this is entirely counter-productive, since a galaxy of bacterial and fungal spores are ever present in the air and are thus transferred to the cut as soon as you make it. By sealing the cut you seal these spores into the tree and actually encourage infection and discourage natural healing. Breathable balms are now the way to go and help to promote regrowth and healing whilst combating the potential for infection.

Pruning Balm.


The Winter Garden: Galanthus Gala.

Monday, January 31st, 2011

As this unusually long and rather harsh winter moves into it’s final stages, and the days finally start to grow longer and brighter, one of the most familiar and totemic of all our wildflowers is re-emerging, seemingly in defiance of the cold. The Snowdrop – Galanthus nivalis – is so familiar it’s easy to take it for granted, but take the time to kneel-down and study an individual flower and you’ll be rewarded with an intimate portrait of a fascinating plant.

Galanthus nivalis 'Daphne's Scissors'.

Members of the Amaryllis family (Amaryllidaceae) our native species is one of a small genus of around 20 species.  Some, such as Galanthus elwesii, are larger and rather more bold in the garden, whilst others  including Galanthus woronowii, are dwarf, they all pretty closely follow the same familiar pattern and floral structure.

Their scientific name was one of the first “Latinized” names to be published, indicating their significance in the landscape. Linnaeus, the oft-styled father of modern plant taxonomy, chose the name in 1753, fusing two Greek words gala (meaning milk) and anthos (flower), and adding the specific name nivalis (meaning snow) to underline the season as well, perhaps, as the pure white quality of the flower.

Galanthus 'Hill Poe'.

Whilst the common name “Snowdrop” is now utterly inseparable from the plant, in earlier times the flowers had a huge number of other, rather charming regional names including “February Fairmaids”, “Dingle-Dangle”, “Candlemas Bells”, “Snow Piercers” and “Mary’s Tapers”.

The species that we regard as our wild snowdrop is actually native to a wide swathe of Continental Europe spreading Eastwards to Turkey and the Ukraine. Here I must drop what could be something of a gardening bombshell too, for “our” Snowdrop, so permanent and ubiquitous in British woodlands, hedgerows and gardens is actually nothing of the sort. The species is actually believed to have been introduced from the continent as recently as the 1500′s.

Galanthus 'S. Arnott'.

This raises an interesting question about what we really mean by “Native” British flora. A good number of plants we now regard as always having been here were also introduced by various different human endeavours, and some have gone on to define aspects of our vary landscape – the Beech tree being perhaps the most significant of these. One thing is for sure though, as soon as the diminutive Snowdrop arrived on our shores then it was taken to the hearts of everyone who clapped eyes on it. By the early 1700′s different flower forms were being noticed, selected and propagated, and by the Victorian era Galanthus fever was in full effect, a condition that persists to this day.

Galanthus 'Boyds Double'.

Snowdrop collectors, fans and growers – collectively know as galanthophiles – have between them named over 500 different forms. This is a truly astonishing number for a plant which displays relatively little natural variation, and (arguably!) stands as one of the best examples of horticulture as obsession. But one of the great lessons that the galanthophile can teach any gardener is to look, really look, at the details of a flower, and in these details can be found endless beauty and micro-variations.

Snowdrop cultivars can be roughly divided into groups, for ease of navigation. The first division comes between the single and the double-flowered forms, for yes, there are a multitude of each. Another important division separates forms with yellow, rather than green markings on the white flower, collectively known as the Sandersii Group.

Galanthus 'Sandersii'.

Of course the patterning and amount of pigment can also vary considerably too, from almost pure-white, unmarked flowers at one extreme culminating in Galanthus nivalis ‘Virescens’, which is the nearest approach yet to a snowdrop with an all green flower. ‘Daphne’s Scissors’ is an interesting example, too, in which a green imprint in the shape of a pair or scissors appears on the scape  - the tubular inner segment of the flower. Further distinctions focus on size, from the unusually tall and large-flowered forms such as  ’Straffan’, ‘John Grey’ and the well known ‘S. Arnott’ & ‘Atkinsii’, down to miniatures like the recently named ‘Snow White’s Gnome’.

Galanthus 'Snow White's Gnome'.

Finally there are a small number of forms in which the basic shape of the flower differs from the norm. ‘Scharlockii’ (AKA donkey’s ears) has an enlarged and split flower; the double flowered ‘Walrus’ has tightly packed rosette of green surrounded by tubular, narrowed “tusks”; ‘Boyd’s Double’ has an almost brush-like flower; ‘Hill Poe’ is another double form with five or six petals, as opposed to the more typical three.  Most of the differences between the cultivars are much less pronounced, however, and it’s the ability to spot and select these differences that is the mark of a true galanthophile.

Galanthus 'Scharlockii'.

All the varieties are a treasure trove for the collector or general gardener, and it’s easy to find space in even the smallest garden for a couple of interesting named forms. But a slight word of warning, once the bug has bitten you could awake to find yourself transformed into a full-blow galanthophile, set on a mission to collect as many cutivars as possible.

The hobby can become an expensive one too. Prices of less common, though not super-rare varieties average around £10 per bulb, though £50 is not uncommon and a single bulb of a pure white flowered cultivar recently sold at auction for £357. But whether one is a collector or just enjoying their natural charms in a wild garden or border, those swept up in the February flowering celebrations will be following in a rich gardening tradition by joining the ever-swelling ranks of snowdrop aficionados.

Galanthus nivalis 'Virescens'.


The Winter Garden: Rehabilitating the Conifer.

Thursday, January 20th, 2011

Picea orinetalis 'Aurea'.

Trends and fashions in garden plants wax and wane just as they do in clothes or music, and one decades “must-have” garden plant can all too quickly become the next decades “wouldn’t be seen dead growing it”. Often such plants have become victims of their own successes – so ubiquitous and widely grown that they come to represent an era in their own right.

Picea likiangensis - startling cones of red/purple.

Kniphofia – Red-Hot Pokers – and Cortaderia – Pampas Grass – are pretty good examples. Quintessential plants of the ’70′s they were both relegated to the compost heap of all “fashionable” gardens in the 90′s.  The plants themselves, of course, weren’t to blame, and, as is the way with fashion trends, both are now back in a big way, with Kniphofia, in particular, one of the hippest plants for the border all over again.

Cunninghamia lanceolata

What does any of this have to do with conifers, much less winter gardening you may be asking…well, at about the same time that front gardens were being filled with those Pampas and Pokers back gardens were being planted out with faux rockeries and dwarf conifers. Both of these fell foul of gardening fashionistas sometime later that same century and, aside from use as hedging, the use of conifers in many gardens became all but unthinkable. A situation that, for many gardeners, remains largely unchanged to this day.

Pinus bungeana - python-like flaking bark.

It’s pretty hard to consign such a huge and important group of plants to garden history, however. The problem for conifers in gardens arose not so much with the plants themselves but the way that they were used and the selections that were promoted via garden centres. The dwarf, often shapeless blobs that came to dominate so many gardens denied colour, variance and (ironically) seasonal interest to many plots and were seen as the epitome of suburban gauche, whilst mis-planted leylandii hedges just compounded the problem.

Sciadopitys verticillata.

Conifers are, of course, a numerous, diverse and fascinating group of plants. Having paid homage to giant Sequoia in California, amongst others, I can testify to their enormous appeal and often astounding beauty. These two-thousand-year-old giants are a world away from some golden dwarf perched in a dodgy rockery, but delve into the vast array of conifers now available to the gardener and you open up a treasure trove of forms, textures, scents & colours.

Athrotaxis laxifolia.

AND (finally arriving at the crux of the matter…) Winter is the season when they truly excel. No matter how many winter-flowering bulbs, shrubs and perennials you gather together nothing better gives an air of majesty, structure and sheer personality to the scene than a well chosen and well placed conifer or two. What’s more the effects of frost, snow and winter light can transform coniferous foliage into a thing of sparkling magic.

Pinus wallichiana.

I must say, however, that I still have an aversion to those blobby, often gold-leafed dwarf conifers with very finely divided foliage – Thuja, Juniperus, Platycladus are perhaps the main culprits. For me they lack the two primary joys that conifers can bring to the garden – striking bark and bold foliage. Instead I’d like to turn your attention to three key genera - Abies (the Firs) Picea (the Spruces) and Pinus (yep, the Pines).

Abies koreana - numerous blue-ish cones produced from an early age.

These are three big groups of plants that offer an array of bold leaves, beautiful bark, elegant forms and sometimes spectacular cones. A few of the species are suitably small growing for almost all gardens – the beautiful violet-coned Abies koreana and the fabulous Lacebark Pine – Pinus bungeana are two such for example – but there are also a multitude of slower, smaller, stiffly upright and weeping forms that have been selected.

Many of these offer tremendous beauty and potential for moderate or even small sized gardens. Even in limited space the addition of just one specimen conifer – say Picea omorika ‘Pendula’ – will add tremendous personality and depth to the garden in winter as well as providing a perfect backdrop for winter-flowering shrubs like Hamamelis.

Picea omorika 'Pendula' - every individual forms it's own unique shape.

Whilst these three key genera should perhaps comprise the backbone of the winter garden supporting roles could also be played by a cast of somewhat less familiar coniferous beauties, many hailing from the southern hemisphere. Cunninghamia lanceolata is a fabulous and deeply exotic-looking gem from South America with huge, spiky foliage; Athrotaxis species are small, highly architectural conifers native to Tasmania; Podocarpus salignus is an extremely graceful Chilean native with drooping, willow-like deep green foliage; Sciadopitys verticillata is a unique and extremely ancient species with tremendous personality and a fascinating appearance; Wollemia nobilis is the headline-grabbing newly discovered Australian relic that is proving to be remarkably garden hardy here in the UK.

Wollemia nobilis.

Whichever you opt for the key is to think big, and think bold. Consign the apologetic blobs to yesteryear and allow the full beauty of these magnificent plants to reign supreme in the winter garden.

Podocarpus salignus.


The Winter Garden: Early Arrivals.

Tuesday, January 18th, 2011

In my last blog entry I suggested that nothing much grows at this time of the year. That’s not entirely true, of course, because there are a small, but crucial band of plants that can and do emerge into life in Winter. These seasonal pioneers re-appear pretty much regardless of the vagaries of the British winter weather and I’d have to say that nothing throughout the whole gardening year is more pleasing to behold than those first plants that pop their heads out in Winter. They herald the start of new life throughout the garden and really feel like they’re marking a new beginning. With a handful of these plants strategically scattered through the garden it’s easy to kid yourself that spring is just around the corner – even if may still be months away in reality. Garden centres will be bulging with gaudy winter-flowering bedding plants right now – Pansy’s and the like – but let’s not go there…much better to focus on plants that can provide ongoing interest in the garden year after year and winter after winter.

The boldest, most vigorous plants in our garden right now are Arum italicum ‘Marmoratum’, a well-known  marble-leaved beauty that has been in growth since late autumn, but which is peaking just about now. Despite the extremes of cold and snow of the last month the foliage looks completely fresh. The Arum flowers and vivid scarlet berries will appear in later seasons, but in January the lush foliage looks incongruous against the drab weather and so all the more appealing.

Arum italicum 'Marmoratum'.

The last couple of winters have seen the early arrival of snowdrops, often in December, but February is their more usual month, and things seem to have got back to normal this year. Eranthis hyemalis – the winter aconite – is always earlier, though, and it’s fern-like divided foliage and giant buttercup flowers are an essential ingredient of the woodland understory or shady border. Tuberous Cyclamen coum appears a little later in winter, it’s silver-marbled heart-shaped leaves providing a foil for the pink to white flowers.

Eranthis hyemalis.

Careful selection can give your garden a near-continuous succession of Crocuses from Autumn thorough to Spring. The beautiful Crocus laevigatus flowers right in the centre of the season with lilac-stained white flowers appearing in late December.  C. tommasinianus is much bigger and more robust and produces large flowers in a variety of purple shades from late January, whilst C. sieberi closes out the season with white flowers that open in February.

Crocus laevigatus.

Hellebores pretty much dominate herbaceous perennial beds at this time of the year, their exact floral timing varying with the weather and general temperatures.  H. x hybridus (often, though wrongly called H. orientalis , which is a true species in it’s own right)  is an absolute stalwart of winter, and now comes in a dazzling array of forms and colours, but most of the true Hellebore species and their many hybrids also perform in winter and are well worth checking out.

A whole gaggle of winter-flowering shrubs can be deployed, and many brighten the garden with both flowers and fragrance. Hybrid Witch Hazels – Hamamelis x intermedia - are particular favourites of mine, and late January is when the flowers hit their stride in a big way. The citric fragrance (strongest by far in the yellow flowered varieties) is intoxicating and the bright spider-like flowers are a joy, particularly when viewed close-up.

Hamamelis x intermedia 'Barmstead Gold'.

Chimonanthus praecox – Wintersweet – is more understated in flower, but equally fragrant, whilst Daphne odora and the larger growing, semi-evergreen Daphne bholua are phenomenally perfumed and exquisitely beautiful with their winter-borne tiny pinkish white urn-shaped flowers. Daphne relative Edgeworthia chrysantha is rightly the most prized of all winter-flowering shrubs and opens it’s tubular, fragrant, furry flowers of gold and crimson on bare stems right about now.

Daphne bholua.

Not to be outdone the Honeysuckle family can also pack a winter punch. Lonicera fragrantissima, it’s close relative L. standishii and their well-known hybrid offspring L. x purpusii ‘Winter Beauty’ all do their thing round about now, and though none will win any awards for structural prowess these tough occupants of the winter garden reward with a mass of fragrant flowers.

Mahonias are a tad more dramatic, and, if they weren’t so familiar to British gardeners, it would be easy to imagine that they were delicate denizens of some tropical forest. Most Mahonia species don’t actually flower in winter, but the few that do are highly prized. M. japonica and it’s various winter-flowering hybrids are all pretty much bomb-proof, whilst M. lomariifolia and M. napaulensis are more dramatic species that require some shelter to succeed. Each flowers for a lengthy period and often throughout the entire season.

Mahonia nepaulensis.

Viburnums are a large and incredibly valuable genus of plants that collectively can offer something at most times of the year. Winter sees the unfurling of the earliest flowering species and various selections of the hybrids V. x bodnantense, V. x burkwoodii are widely available, reliable and easily grown in most gardens. Sarcococcas are pretty easy to cater for too, and are very much at their best in mid-winter, when the tiny white flowers appear and scent the air with vanilla.

Viburnum x bodnantense.

Garrya elliptica is another subdued prospect, flower-wise, but it’s elongated winter tassels give the winter garden a unique elegance.

Rhododendrons are almost entirely associated with spring, but the delightful tubular-flowered hybrid ‘Yellow Hammer’ bucks the trend and kicks off in January. A number of Camellias do flower in winter too (though not reliably so in our garden) but these need careful placement if those early flowers aren’t to be regularly burned off by frost. The winter flowering Cherry – Prunus x  subhirtella ‘Autumnalis’ – is well known and widely grown and, although it can’t compete with it’s spring-flowering cousins in terms of flower power, it’s tissue-paper petals certainly brighten the season effectively. Prunus mume – the Japanese Apricot – is more showy, but less reliable as a winter-flowering tree, the blossoms being held back until spring in colder years.

Rhododendron 'Yellow Hammer'.

There are very few true climbers that flower in winter. Canary yellow Jasminum nudum is widely referred to as one such, but is really a sprawling shrub that will forever need to be reminded that you’d rather it was a wall climber. Clematis, though, can provide a couple of true winter-flowering species. C. cirrhosa is surely the queen of them with beautiful bell-shaped flowers of cream through to burgundy, depending on the variety. The delicate ferny foliage is a big bonus too. C. urophylla is a less well known but equally worthy species, and the selection ‘Winter Beauty’ produces an abundance of pure white nodding bells in the heart of the season.

Clematis urophylla 'Winter Beauty'.


Gardening Tips September

Thursday, September 2nd, 2010

There is one little cheat’s trick that will instantly revive a tired September garden:  Go out and edge the lawn, if you have one, and then take hand fork and loosen the soil at the very front of your borders and winkle out any young  weed seedlings or wisps of stray grass that have wandered in there.  I have just been grubbing around outside myself (I have been writing books this summer rather than gardening, and things have got away from me a bit) and the transformation is amazing.  Coupled with a bit of snipping and tweaking here and there, and the garden will stagger on quite attractively for another month before the big Clear Up starts in earnest in October.

I am often asked how you make a garden ‘last’ longer – most people are very good at planting spring bulbs and high-summer show-off plants, but fail to leave room for flowers that look their best in August and September.  If its blowsy colour you are after make space next year for a generous clump of lovely lofty, pleated daisies with ferny foliage – Cosmos bipinnatus – the tall ones not the boring dumpy ones called ‘Sonata’.  You can grow them from seed in individual pots on a windowsill – but don’t sow them till May since they germinate quickly. They will flower in profusion from late July until the frosts.   Many perennials cut back in July put on an extra show in late summer, and my Hybrid Musk roses (‘Penelope’ and ‘Buff Beauty’) are now coming back into flower, too.  Still looking quite smart in my borders is a hunky, late flowering Phlox (P. paniculata ‘David’), a blue Aster frikatii ‘Monch’ and a huge white single Shasta daisy (Leucanthemum maximum).  Other asters – ‘Little Carlow’ and ‘Harrington Pink’ will show up in a few week’s time, and all the while deep yellow, black-eyed Rudbeckia ‘Goldsturm’ glows on and on.


Gardening Tips May

Wednesday, May 5th, 2010

May – just before all heaven breaks loose – is a big month in the garden.  Fending off serious slug and snail invasions is a serious business.  I use a combination of methods and copper and grit barriers (such as the highly effective one from EcoCharlie) feature heavily.  In fact with Hostas and spreading plants such as Brunnera ‘Jack Frost, I cover the entire crown of each with the coarse, extra rough stuff, so important is it that their lovely leaves stay intact.

The other must-do job for May – if you haven’t done it already – is a thorough appraisal of all herbaceous border plants to decide what supports are needed:  If you don’t get things in place now, it will be too late and you will find yourself in a few weeks time standing on one leg in a crowded border trying to ‘rescue’ plants that have flopped after heavy rain.  With plant supports, it is definitely a case of horses for courses:   Unless I have a decent source of twiggy sticks with which to make a supportive forest, I make sure that each growing stem of lofties such as delphiniums gets a slim cane to which it will be tied in every few inches as it grows – really worth the bother, since most spires become catastrophically top heavy after rain.   Other plants will need metal hoops on legs placed so that they will stop them from falling all over each other, and herbaceous geraniums such as G. ‘Johnson’s blue’ are completely transformed if they are grown through a circular grid frame (no more flopping open in the middle as they age).  Put in place before the border fills out, all this corsetry becomes invisible in high summer.

Finally:  You can stop the cat getting stoned and sunbathing in the middle of your nepeta by bunging an obsolete hanging basket over its heads (the nepeta not the cat).


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.


Camellias.

Friday, March 5th, 2010

Camellia japonica 'Hagoromo'

As winter turns slowly into spring, one of the pivotal moments for me is the opening of the first camellia flower.

These often almost impossibly exotic looking shrubs have become very familiar inhabitants of our gardens, but for most of their British cultivation history they were considered as exclusively conservatory and glasshouse plants, and no one ever dreamed of trying them in the garden.

Cultivation history.

Native to Japan, China and south-east Asia, camellias were revered (and inspired countless works of art) for the last several thousand years in their home lands. Like so many other Asian trees and shrubs, the Victorians introduced the species, together with many named forms, into Europe through the latter part of the 19th century.

Camellia japonica 'Oukan'

By the early 1920’s though, they had all but disappeared from cultivation, having well and truly fallen from favour.

In large part they were victims of the massively increased cost of maintaining, heating and working those glass-houses, most of which were themselves condemned to demolition.

Post World War 2 there was a gradual revival of interest and as the general gardening fashion moved away from labour-intensive herbaceous plantings towards the more self-sustaining shrubbery, gardeners finally started trying camellias outdoors.

It shouldn’t have come as any great surprise that many of these plants were indeed fully hardy – many grow naturally in climates far more severe than our own – but their exotic flowers and foliage had for far too long seen them separated from their close cousins the Rhododendrons.

Camellias in the garden.

Camellia japonica 'Dahlohnega'

In the wild camellias are all very much understory shrubs – and ultimately small trees – which is to say that they naturally inhabit the dappled shade at the margins and in openings in woodland.

Knowing this simple fact, and then imagining what those natural conditions are like, tells you a few key facts about the conditions that they need to thrive in cultivation – 1) shady, but not dark 2) sheltered from the wind 3) with their roots in (acidic) leaf-litter.

Whilst the most frequently seen camellias are, to all intents and purposes, absolutely bone hardy as plants, the same can’t be said for the flowers themselves, particularly the earliest varieties that open in late winter.

Camellia 'Baby Bear'

Shelter from wind is pretty vital if those early flowers aren’t to burn off. Similarly, east-facing sites should be avoided since frozen winter flowers will turn to a brown mush if exposed to the rays of the early morning sun.

A westerly or northerly aspect is ideal, and walls, fences or trees and other (later flowering) shrubs can be used to provide additional shelter.

Much is made of camellias being “acid-loving” and even indicator species of acid soil.

In fact they are considerably more tolerant than most Rhododendrons in this regard, and will happily succeed on a neutral as well as an acid soil.

Camellia japonica 'Black Opal'

Having a good, open, free draining, humus-rich soil (i.e. emulating what they would have in the wild) is actually far more important than the precise pH.

Where soil conditions are totally inappropriate or un-improvable, camellias also make great container plants. Their relatively slow rate of growth means that, with appropriate watering, feeding and repotting, they can thrive almost indefinitely in pots and their formality and glossy evergreen foliage makes them ideal patio subjects.

With care camellias can be planted out at any time of the year, but early spring, whilst the plants are in flower, in the ideal season. Then the roots will still be dormant and the plants will readily establish into their new homes.

The species.

Thanks to the renewed breeding efforts of the last 50-or-so years there are now a truly vast array of camellias from which the gardener can choose.

There are just over 40 wild species, (including C. sinensis, the plant from which we get tea) but virtually all of the widely grown garden varieties derive from 3 of those species - C. japonica, C. reticulata & C. sasanqua – and their various hybrids.

Camellia japonica.

Camellia japonica 'Lily Pons'

Certainly the most important and widely grown of all the species, the Japanese camellia has given rise to an extraordinary 30,000 cultivars and forms – the largest by far of any individual species of plant on earth.

The flower forms are classified into 6 types: single, semi-double, anemone, peony, rose double and formal double, with colours ranging from pure white and pale creams through all shades of pink to deep and vivid true reds. With such a large range of selections it’s not surprising that the bloom time varies considerably with different cultivars opening throughout late winter and the whole of spring – something to bear in mind when selecting plants for any given site.

The highly desirable white flowered forms are unfortunately also the most prone to weather damage and should always be planted with extra protection if the blooms aren’t to be regularly spoiled. The equally beautiful deep red flowered japonicas though are much tougher and can take considerably more harsh weather without getting damaged.

Camellia sasanqua.

Camellia sasanqua 'Yuletide'

This much less well known Japanese species is in many ways more versatile than C. japonica and should certainly be far more widely grown.

The plants flower in mid to late autumn, generally well away from any frost danger, and have a similar (if much smaller!) range of flower shapes and colours to their Japonica cousins.

The individual flowers are smaller and more fleeting than that species, but are produced in huge numbers from a very early age.

They also have the great bonus of being fragrant.

Camellia reticulata.

This extremely showy Chinese species has the largest blooms of any camellia, with huge flowers ranging from single to semi-double in shades of white and pink with a few reds.

They are much less hardy than the previous two species though, and, although they bloom later in spring so are less frequently subject to weather damage, the plants themselves definitely require a more sheltered location in order to do well.


Winter garden wonders.

Monday, January 4th, 2010

In times gone by the deepest darkest months of Winter were seen by gardeners as fit only for leafing through catalogues of seeds, preferably by some form of open fire, whilst green fingered urges were met by watering the house plants and admiring seasonal indoor plants. These days, though, most folks want their gardens to deliver for them all year round, and whole plots and entire books are devoted to groups of garden plants that are at their prime in January and February.

Hamamelis - Witch hazel flowers open even when encrusted with ice and snow.

You certainly don’t have to go as far as dedicating all of your growing space to a single season to reap the rewards of winter gardening. There’s definitely a special kind of satisfaction that comes from seeing a blazing red Witch Hazel bursting improbably through snow and ice, or from having the heady perfume of a Viburnum waft gently through the air. What’s more, the addition of a few select seasonal gems into a garden will encourage you off the Christmas sofa to get out and about to investigate their progress.

There aren’t too many pollinating insects around in January so a common feature of lots of winter flowering shrubs is small flowers with a powerful perfume to entice those bees brave enough to take to the wing. Low-growing Sarcococca (Christmas Box) is so non-descript in flower you might well tread on it were it not for the knock-your-socks-off fragrance that demands your attention. Lonicera x purpusii ‘Winter Beauty’ is a  popular shrubby Honeysuckle with small white flowers that also pack a powerful scent and is pretty much foolproof to grow in almost any situation.

Chimonanthus praecox - a sublime gem for the winter garden.

With it’s pretty lantern-like hanging flowers of primrose and burgundy the medium-sized shrubby Magnolia relative Chimonanthus praecox (Wintersweet) is rather more sophisticated and also provides a delicious perfume. Although it’s not often seen outside of big gardens it’s readily available and should be grown far more often than it is.

The image of Mahonias has become a bit tarnished lately, mainly due to their use in virtually every municipal park planting throughout the northern hemisphere. Still, there’s a good reason why they are so widely grown – dramatic, large, spiky, evergreen foliage, a tolerance for shade and the production of large racemes of very fragrant, canary-yellow flowers in Winter. In many ways these are the perfect shrubs for town gardens.  Viburnums are almost as popular, and the best of the winter flowering varieties, such as V. farreri, and V.x bodnantense ‘Dawn’ never fail to please with their clusters of pinky-white fragrant flowers.

If you have a wall that you’d like to see come alive in winter then Clematis cirrhosa is probably the number one choice. This moderately strong climber has delicate, fern-like evergreen foliage and really pretty, cream-coloured bell-shaped flowers that have a delicate scent. A number of forms are widely available, I particularly like ‘Freckles’ which has petals splashed with crimson on their inner surface.

Daphne mezereum - one of the finest native wild flowers for fragrance.

One of our more unusual wild flowers, Daphne mezereum is a British that thrives on chalky soils. This is one small shrub that delivers big time in winter with beautiful flowers of purple or pure white that have the most intoxicating fragrance.

Possibly my personal favourite winter shrub of all though is a Daphne relative from China – Edgeworthia chrysantha, the Paper Bush. The flexible bark of this beauty was traditionally made into bank notes, but unless you’re planning your own small-scale printing operation, you, like me, will be more drawn to the tubular, fragrant flowers of pale yellow. The form ‘Red Dragon’, if you can find it, is even more beautiful with impossibly exotic bright red flowers that, on a sunny winters day (and possibly depending on what you’ve been drinking the night before) might just convince you that you’re in the Caribbean.

Hamamelis (Witch Hazels) are firm favourites that can be found in most larger gardens. The old hybrid ‘Pallida’ is still hard to beat on the scent front, but there are a range of new-ish hybrids arriving from breeders in Belgium that deliver much larger flowers with the same awesome perfume. Colours vary from pale yellow through copper orange to blood red. ‘Nina’ is the finest of all the yellows and I particularly love the dramatic, large burnt orange flowers of recently introduced ‘Aurora’ and ‘Aphrodite.’

All of these shrubs work hard to drive away the winter cold and also serve as handy a reminder that Spring is just around the corner, but some trees are also at their best at this time of year. Birches can be rather understated small trees for much of the year but the best of them really come alive in winter. Then, with the leaves long since disappeared, the colours and textures of their often-fabulous bark are fully revealed. I’ve become a huge fan of Betula albosinensis, in particular, and seeing the low winter sun illuminate the peeling deep scarlet and bright pinky-orange bark of the many different forms is without doubt the highlight of my own garden in winter.

Betula albosinensis - a great centrepiece for any winter garden.

Of course none of these winter wonders should be planted in winter itself, but by checking out what’s looking good now it’s easy to plan ahead for a Spring planting. Unless your soil is truly dismal, then the best advice for planting all trees and large shrubs is simple: the only garden supplies you need are a spade, a fork, a short sturdy stake + tie, if your plant is tall or top heavy, and a willing digger-of the-soil…that would be you or a trusty assistant.

All of your planting time and efforts should be focussed on making a wide planting hole and breaking all of the soil into small, crumbly pieces, this way your new plantings will be able to get their roots out into the soil easily and will establish quickly.  DO NOT add compost into the hole, this damages the natural bacterial balance and can easily lead to root rot, as well as slowing down the progress of the plant into the soil where it will, after all, be spending the rest of it’s life. Instead mulch well on top of the planting, but don’t cover the stem of the plant, and the worms will do the rest.