Seeing the Woodridge for the trees

At the weekend we celebrated three years of living at Woodridge.

“But wait”, you ask, “weren’t you selling Woodridge and moving away? That’s what you said in May, anyway.”

True, that is what I told you in May. And we did put the house up for sale.  But somehow, by doing that we found a clearer insight into how much we like living here. The relentlessly positive feedback from prospective buyers didn’t hurt either. So we went reverse ferret on the house sale and we’re staying put for the foreseeable.

And when I say “here” I mean not just this house and its preposterous garden, but Shaftesbury too. It’s an unusual little town where we’ve made new friends and acquaintances and feel as though we belong.

Why no blog posts since May?

I don’t know.

But I reckon it’s about time that I give this garden blog a rest. After 3 years there seems to be less to write about. Perhaps it’s because the garden is more business as usual than it is new discoveries or meaningful changes. That’s not so interesting to write or read (maybe in the hands of someone like Monty Don, but I can’t pull it off). I could go on posting about magnificent magnolias in the Spring, or gorgeous Autumn colours, but we’ve all been there, done that, in the past 3 years.

I think I’ll leave that sort of thing to my Instagram account for now.

Woodridge, here are your best bits

I thought it would be fun to skim back over previous posts and remind myself what we have achieved in the garden. What have we created? What have we destroyed? What is the day-to-day work that keeps us going? And what didn’t go so well?

You might even call it a retro (one for the work colleagues there).

Creation

Although it’s quite a mature garden, we felt there was a lot that seemed tired and in need of renewal. It has been very rewarding to reawaken some of its potential.

In the first few months I had high hopes of flower beds leaping into life once Spring had sprung. It didn’t happen. So we set to and made, not one …

Not two …

But three new flower beds!

After clearing a thicket of laurels (see also ‘Destruction’) under some much larger trees, we made the Owl Path. That is, a path down towards the tree where one or more of the owls likes to perch.

Transferring bluebells from the “wrong” places and planting them alongside the Owl Path, turning that area into the Bluebell Wood.

Clearing an underused area and sowing native wildflower seeds to encourage birds and insects. TBH the jury’s still out on whether this has been a success, but maybe next year we will see it come into its own.

Transforming a leaking, dilapidated shed that looked on the verge of collapse into a dry, secure and sturdy outbuilding for the ages.

Laying paving stones so that visitors have an alternative to traipsing across the grass on the way up to the house.

Making wildlife habitats with piles of logs in quiet corners and turning felled hawthorns into a dead hedge. I might ask for a motion sensitive wildlife camera for Christmas.

Building a cage for the thousands of leaves that fall every year, to recycle lovely mulch back into the garden.

Transforming the slopes at the top of the garden from a scrappy mess of nettles, cow parsley and bracken into a smooth continuation of the grassy areas above and below – it looks so much more open and cohesive now.

Destruction

Some of that creation depended on us first destroying things. I’ve mentioned many times that the garden’s full of trees and shrubs, and that our predecessor was apparently so gripped by a mania for privacy that he let them get out of hand.

So we have gradually been opening up space, getting rid of things in the wrong place, lending light and air to other plants and improving the views of, and from, the garden. Here are some things that stand out for me.

Digging up or cutting back 40-odd laurels.

Removing yews in the wrong place, like right in the way of a path or somewhere we wanted to see flowers rather than a sombre evergreen sentry.

Digging out fat box hedges that had outgrown the beds and pathways they once neatly lined.

Clearing out mountains of junk the previous owner couldn’t be bothered to get rid of himself (I should probably have sent him the clearance company’s bill).

Maintenance

It’s a big garden. There’s a lot of day-to-day, month-to month or year-to-year maintenance involved.

Weeding, of course. Mowing and strimming. Cutting hedges. Deadheading. Pruning. Transplanting. Blowing and collecting fallen leaves. Raking and sweeping. Building, turning and digging homemade compost. Watering.

And tree surgery. Apart from a wind-damaged cedar that needed cutting down, our old garden didn’t have much call for it. But we feel a responsibility towards our many trees. So, for example, we’ve:

• taken down the damaged stem of a large conifer
• removed a holly tree that threatened to hurt others if it fell
• cut out branches of green reverted leaves from a variegated maple

All the destruction and maintenance has delivered a bonus, which is the vast amount of firewood it’s generated. Good thing too, as we are having a second woodburner installed, just in time for winter.

Did it all go to plan?

Nope. But nothing ever does when you’re gardening. One of Simon’s favourite moments is when I look at something a few months after I’ve planted it and say “I wasn’t expecting it to be that size/colour/completely different plant”.

Vegetable gardening hasn’t lived up to expectations. First there was the overnight burglary of the first batch of young plants I put out (pigeons? rabbits?). Then there was the dismal showing of runner beans (seriously, how do you get runner beans to fail?). The tomatoes that charged ahead with great promise then basically shrivelled or rotted on the stem. On the other hand I had reasonable success with courgettes last year, aka a GLUT. And some scary monsters.

The crap orchard, so-named by the previous owner, lived up to its title. I tried pruning the 4 trees into some sort of productivity but it resolutely stayed free of blossom (and of course fruit). Not surprising – it was planted in a spot with very little light, so it didn’t have a chance.

Slugs and snails. My goodness but there’s a lot of slugs and snails. Someone told me the other day that I needed to encourage hedgehogs and that would take care of them. TBH I’d need an army of hedgehogs and even then the task would never be done.

And finally the weather. That isn’t so much something going wrong, as an additional challenge. When you have a lot of trees, suddenly the power of the wind becomes an issue (we did have one tree blown down in the old place, but this is a whole different order of magnitude). I’m writing this with a storm due to hit us later today and I know I will be nervously watching the taller trees sway in the gusts. And, if Storm Eunice was anything to go by, clearing up a ton of leaves and twigs in the aftermath.

So what’s next?

The gardening will continue as usual. Our fantastic gardener, Laura, will be coming once a week to do most of the skilled work … and a fair bit of the hard labour too.

If something notable happens in the garden I may post about it here. Or perhaps I will repurpose this blog for something else. Right now I’m not sure what that would be.

I’ve enjoyed writing this blog and I really like the feedback I’ve had. If you’ve enjoyed this post, or any others, let me know.

And finally … it’s not a Woodridge blog without a few flowers

Thinking back over the flowering plants and trees that were already here, and those we’ve planted since we arrived, I’m a bit surprised at how many varieties there have been. Here’s a list of the 81 different flowers I can recall, along with pictures of about 70 of them (if it’s italic, it’s not pictured).

Achillea, alliums, arum lilies, astilbe, anemone de Caen, asters, astrantia, azalea, bluebells, brunnera, buddleia, camellias, campanula, cherry blossom …

… chocolate vine, choysia, cistus, clematis, columbines, coreopsis, cornus, crocosmia, crocus, cyclamen, daffodils, dahlias …

… day lilies, echinacea, erigeron, euphorbia, forget-me-nots, forsythia, foxgloves, fuchsias, geraniums, hawthorn, hebes …

… helenium, hellebores, heuchera, honesty, honeysuckle, hydrangea, hypericum, iris, Japanese anemones, lavender …

… lilac, lithodora, London pride, magnolias, marsh marigolds, nasturtium, nepeta, penstemon, peonies, persian ironwood, persicaria, philadelphus …

… phlox, primroses, red campion, rhododendrons, roses (bush, climbing, rambling), rudbeckia, salvia, sedums, snowdrops …

… Solomon’s seal, spirea, sweet peas, tulips, verbena, veronica, viburnum, wallflowers, weigela, Welsh poppies, wild carrot and wild garlic.

Goodbye for now