Outed...
Yes, to those of you who've been asking by email, I am a finalist in the 2006 BBC Gardener of the Year competition. No I can't discuss the result. In the December BBC GW mag, I'm the one in the shocking-pink T-shirt, aggressively pointing at the fence, while my assistant (Hazel) hides behind the bird feeder. I think I'm looking forward to the programme, but it all seems a long time since it was filmed and I am a little uncertain about what I actually said and did. I do remember that it was very stressful!
Here in the real world the garden is slowly slipping towards winter. Though temperatures are still well above 10C most days, many of the plants measure day length and they know what's coming. With 7" of rain in November, sunshine has been at a premium, but the sun came out for a few valuable minutes yesterday.
Miscanthus sinensis 'Zebrinus'
Next door's climbing rose, still flowering close to December
Euphorbia 'Silver Swan' looking very pretty and 'winter-proof'
Packing up the garden.
Since it's too dark to be outside, I took a look back at the blog for November 2005 to see what I was doing this time last year. I was planting bulbs, sowing seeds, digging out for the prairie garden and enthusiastically planning ahead for 2006. It was also freezing cold with fog and frost barely lifting for four days.
By contrast today was wet, mild and windy and I spent the afternoon digging out plants and potting them up. These are ones that will mean nothing to potential new house owners, but are unusual or scarce. Also, there are several plants that I feel very attached to, because I grew them from seed or cuttings, or were a present (I'm filling any gaps by a bit of judicious rearrangement - it still looks good) But I can't take the trees, and I feel particularly affectionate towards my winter cherry, Prunus subhirtella 'Autumnalis'. I've never seen another with such a good shape, or such a prolific flowerer. Only one of my hardwood cuttings succeeded last year, so I've taken a few more. It would be lovely to watch her babies grow to maturity - I won't feel so bad about leaving her behind.
The inner beauty of plants
There's not much to photograph in the garden - the last two weeks have been wet, windy and gloomy. But as it happens our college session this week was spent peering through the microscopes at plant stems, leaves and roots. On a hunch, I got my camera out and pointed it down the microscope lens. To my amazement, some of them came out quite well and are wierdly beautiful. Here's the best of them:
Phloem (thick walled red cells), xylem (thin wall red cells) and cambium (green cells in between) in a helianthus stem
Vascular bundle (phloem and xylem cells) in a monocotyledon stem
Dicotyledon root section
Ready to move on
On a cold, wet day in November it's hard to remember quite why I want an outdoor life. But wrapped up properly and encased in waterproofs even a squally day has its moments. I was at Dunham Massey today, gathering leaves in the now quiet garden, closed to the public for the winter. And for a while the sun came out, the raindrops on the few remaining beech leaves shimmered in the weak light and the sweet, musky perfume from the fallen walnut leaves hung around our little gang of three beddraggled volunteers. I was happy to be there, in the rain, raking.
It's just as well, since we might, just might, have bought a house with a thriving plant nursery attached. If it comes off, the weekend gardener will become a full time horticulturalist.
In praise of rowans
Some trees have a fleeting week of glory, only to fade into anonymity for the rest of the year. The rowans deliver all year round for me, starting with tresses of white flowers in April/May. Delicate, shapely leaf cover takes over until August when the berries start to colour up. But their peak moment is in autumn, when the leaves turn and the whole tree becomes an eye-catching two-tone delight. In a good year, the berries will last all winter, providing colour and essential bird food till February.
I have two; Sorbus 'Joseph Rock' and Sorbus hupehensis. At college there is a beautiful Sorbus vilmorinii with lovely purple and white berries. When we move there will definitely be a place for a few more.
Sorbus hupehensis. These vary quite widely apparently - some have quite pink berries. The leaves last longer than any of the others, often well into December.
Sorbus vilmorinii - I missed the leaves but it's still lovely with just berries.
Sorbus 'Joseph Rock'
Starting the autumn clear up
The wind and rain lifted today for just long enough to let me sweep up piles of leaves and pull up a few finished annuals. This is the first year for many that I've taken the leaves to the council recycling rather than filling the leafmould bin with them. I don't expect we'll be here next year so there's no point keeping them, but it does seem a shame to see them go, albeit to another good use.
Still on the Oz theme, this is my best Jacaranda picture, taken close to Sydney's Darling Harbour. I've checked and they really aren't hardy enough for anywhere in the UK, but what the heck, I might as well try germinating the seeds anyway, for the fun of it.
Feeling a bit tropical
I've never been in the least bit interested in tender houseplants. Why bother with all that intensive mollycoddling and nurturing when so many beautiful plants grow outside here quite happily? But having seen in Oz what fabulous plants can be grown if the temperature stays above 5-10C I'll admit I'm tempted.
I'm probably going to have a go at growing a Jacaranda tree (I seem to have acquired a few seeds, somehow....) but I can't ever imagine having a protected space big enough to bring one to maturity. I was also impressed with a huge Brugmansia in Sydney Botanic Gardens.
But what has really tempted me is a cycad. I thought the ancient ones in the rainforest were pretty impressive, but I spotted a young beauty near Mission Beach that was unfolding a new set of leaves. I might just have to have that hot house after all.
From spring to autumn in 24 hours
Yesterday we were in Sydney, Australia in warm spring sunshine, admiring the Jacaranda trees decked out in their pretty purple spring flowers. Today we're back home, watching gale force winds strip the last of the autumn leaves.
We've been away for three weeks in Cairns, Brisbane and Sydney and by all accounts it's been a lovely autumn here - mild, sunny and colourful. I've not missed it all though. The birch tree is all but bare, but Sorbus 'Joseph Rock' looks fabulous with golden berries against the scarlet leaves. And there is as much beauty in a witch hazel or a cyclamen as in a frangipani or a gardenia if you are minded to see it. I've taken a few quick photos here but I really need the sun to come out to capture it properly. Also, it needs a good tidy up but it's far too cool and windy.
Anyway, apart from having a brilliant time down under (great people, superb climate, wonderful food, beautiful landscapes, two world heritage wildlife sites etc....) I learnt a bit about horticulture in the tropics. So I'm planning to warm this blog up during the winter with some occasional photos and tales about Australia's tropical plantlife.
Berberis 'Harlequin' dripping with shiny scarlet berries.
I have finally found a spot where hardy cyclamen will naturalise.
Joseph Rock shines again.
One from Oz - a huge stagshorn fern. These epiphytes are common in the Queensland tropics and usually grow high up in the rainforest canopy. This one was massive - about 5' high. I took this photo from the veranda of a cafe we stopped at for lunch just outside Cairns. Large rainforest epiphytes were apparently nicknamed 'widow makers' because so many 19th century loggers wre killed when these giants fell off trees they were cutting down.
Miscanthus sinensis 'Zebrinus' 
Next door's climbing rose, still flowering close to December
