[Quote from ‘Indian Summer’ by John H Bryant, 1807-1902]
In August I said this wasn’t a monthly blog anymore. That was over 3 months ago, so yeah, it isn’t.
And, you may ask, what’s happened in those 3 months?
Well I finally went to South Africa – 2 years later than the original plan, postponed twice thanks to Covid. It didn’t disappoint. Cape Town was beautiful and the safari exceeded all expectations.
There wasn’t much of a garden theme, unless you count the exotic trees in the Greater Kruger area. Tall jackalberry, bare marula, creamy-flowering knobthorn, yellow cassia, gigantic euphorbias, purple jacaranda and bright red weeping boer beans.
And of course, the fynbos. I was there just at the start of the flowering season and saw some gorgeous specimens in Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens.
Hang on, you were probably asking what happened in our garden.
Can we agree the drought is over?
Remember the drought? Remember when it didn’t rain every single day? Remember when the only alternative to rain wasn’t freezing fog?
I mean, thank goodness the drought is over because that was becoming weird and horrible. You could see the trees and other plants getting stressed by the lack of water. But did it have to be replaced with this for weeks on end…?
In truth it feels so much better now – the trees appear restored to their usual selves and it seems as though the ground is replenished and ready for next year. I guess we need to brace ourselves for more extremes like the past summer.
Adding some jewels to the garden
For the past 2 years (yes, we celebrated our 2 year anniversary here in October) the view above the courtyard outside the kitchen was fine. Nothing special. Just fine.
We fixed its main problem early on – removing overgrown box hedges that obscured the view, both into and out of the courtyard.
But what was left didn’t do much: clumps of day lilies, ferns, a couple of shrubs and the odd bluebell. There was a small flowering cherry that’s pretty for about a week, a hardy fuchsia, scrappy berberis and cotoneaster, and a rose. We vaguely thought it could be a lot better but didn’t get around to doing anything.
That was until October, when suddenly we decided enough is enough. Take out the dull stuff, let in more light and add a bit of colour (ideally a lot of colour).
While Laura set about clearing the bed, which is on 2 levels, I went shopping for flowering perennials. At that time of year, garden centres and online retailers don’t have a lot of perennials on offer. For the time being I got a few rudbeckia, echinacea, salvia and veronica. That will start us off and I’ll fill in the other spaces in the Spring.
We added allium bulbs – ‘Purple Sensation’ and sphaerocephalon – and scattered the tulip bulbs from the pots that flowered in April. If only half of the 120-odd tulips come up, we’ll have a gorgeous display of Princess Irene, Couleur Cardinal, Purple Lady and St Petersburg.
I want this area to glow with colour – reds, oranges, yellows and purples – so we get a mental lift every summer morning while sipping our coffee. With apologies to Monty Don, let’s call it the Jewel Garden™.
The hard work is paying off
Simon’s project on the slopes at the top is coming on brilliantly. In September he sowed 2 batches of grass seed and was delighted when the first shoots began to appear. Happily the rain arrived at exactly the right time and worked perfectly with the warm sunshine to help the seeds germinate.
We’ve oversown some more seeds where there were gaps, and carefully trimmed the grass with shears (hopefully it will be robust enough to use something less back breaking when it’s established next year).
There’s an obvious line where the work stopped, and the rest of the area will be meticulously cleared and seeded next year. Simon is delighted with the outcome and I certainly agree; looking upwards or downwards, the whole rear part of the garden looks nicer and more coherent now.
Dead hedge = more wildlife
There’s a lot of hawthorn near the top of the garden. One tree is huge and gets covered in gorgeous May blossom. But they’re good breeders, which means we’ve also got scrappy bits of sub-trees nearby. It’s time to keep the good stuff and turn the rubbish into something better.
Gabe, our tree surgeon, suggested creating a dead hedge from the cuttings. I don’t think it was just to avoid manhandling the horribly spiky branches down through the garden and away for disposal (though that may have been a factor). He’s dedicated to supporting native habitats and nurturing wildlife.
He pointed out a couple of spots by the back fence that would be ideal, and began by building a structure out of a few old bricks and paving stones.
He used conveniently located living trees and a couple of stakes to hold it together, and then he arranged the cuttings on top.
A dead hedge gradually breaks down, and you can keep adding to it over time to maintain its integrity. It should offer a home or a foraging place for birds, insects and, we hope, hedgehogs. We’re now thinking of getting an outdoor camera trap to see what visitors it attracts.
Question: Is there room for a few more bulbs?
Answer: Always.
The alliums in Spring were such a success that naturally we decided there should be more next year. As well as those in the new Jewel Garden™, we’ve planted 100 anemone blanda (mixed colours), 80 anemone coronaria ‘De Caen’, 100 allium ‘Purple Sensation’, and 100 allium sphaerocephalon in the flower beds, and 100 more mixed crocus in the front lawn.
We took the opportunity to fill a few gaps with new perennials too – purple phlox and geranium ‘Rozanne’, and frilly white leucanthemum.
I’ve also planted up around a dozen pots, mainly with tulips. They’re sitting in a quiet corner, covered with netting to avert the squirrels, but will move into position when they get going.
Bringing the harvest home
The 7 courgette plants (once again, why oh why did I plant 7?!) produced and produced and produced. In my absence, Simon and Laura were in charge of harvesting them and giving them away. There’s an optimum size for picking courgettes, but sometimes you miss one and then this happens…
The tomatoes were a washout. I never have much luck and I’ve resolved not to buy tomato plants next year. I tell myself this pretty much every year. But then the new plants are so cheap, and the lure of homegrown tomatoes is so strong, that I succumb. And it inevitably ends in disappointment.
Not so the dahlias. They kept it up for months, right to the end of November.
Autumn leaves
The leaf blower continues to be a valuable – and vital! – investment.
Every few days one or both of us gets out there and picks up mounds of fallen leaves. We have 2 garden bins which are collected by the council once a fortnight. Right now they are mostly used for leaves, and we manage to fill them within a few days of their being emptied.
It’s easing off now, with only the beech trees holding onto a few remaining leaves.
Other jobs in the garden
Besides the leaves, Autumn keeps us busy. We have:
- put away the garden furniture
- tidied the shed
- cleared and tidied the greenhouse
- emptied and stacked all the summer flowering pots ready for next year
- trimmed hedges: beech, lonicera, rhododendron, privet
- weeded, cut back and generally tidied flowering beds
- deadheaded and tidied buddleia and other shrubs
- weeded out brambles
- cleared a bank of random shrubs, brambles and ivy
- trimmed yew and Japanese laurel to keep steps clear
- cut back shrubs overwhelming the washing line
- stacked firewood in the wood stores
And finally, Laura also mowed the grass, to the great amusement of the neighbouring cows, who followed her up and down the fence.
[…] mentioned once or twice or twenty times that we get a lot of fallen leaves in the autumn. Until now we’ve allowed some leaves to lie […]