Celebrating gardens, photography and a creative life
Nigella is a decorative annual that has been catching my eye at this year’s flower shows. It’s one of many beguiling weapons England’s army of cottage gardeners deploy to (temporarily) gain the upper hand in the war they wage against bare soil in their flower borders. Continue reading “Love-in-a-mist: Nigella”
This yellow daylily caught my sweetheart’s eye during yesterday’s visit to Bodnant Garden. The plant produces striking, dark, bronzy stems topped with buds that open to rich yellow flowers. Broad mahogany stripes linger on the backs of the outer petals: a legacy of the bud.
Continue reading “Yellow and Mahogany Daylily”
The summer solstice seems an appropriate time to feature one of Britain’s most evocative wild flowers: Digitalis purpurea. Close ups of their spots, hairs and pouting flower lips, combined with dire warnings of their toxicity, help explain why so much lore has been wound around them.
Colourful folk names variously link them to fairies, dragons and witches, while scholars dispute the derivation of their commonest name, foxglove.
Continue reading “Digitalis Purpurea: The Essence of Summer”
I’ve been looking for pictures of plants to bring to life the garden created by Rappaccini, the twisted plant breeder of Nathaniel Hawthorne’s fable, and ‘as true a man of science as ever distilled his own heart in an alembic’. Rappaccini, like Frankenstein, used science to create a monster: his beguiling, innocent, but deadly daughter Beatrice. He and his daughter tend a collection of poisonous plants with heady, intoxicating fragrances that can wither and kill. Continue reading “Recreating Rappaccini’s Garden: an Eden of Poisonous Flowers”
Dusk was falling when I saw these sweet little roses tumbling amongst some kind of daisies. I wouldn’t have imagined they would make good plant companions, but I thought they looked a pretty pair – the ornate, fully double blooms seemed to contrast well with the simple candour of the daisies. Continue reading “Pink roses with white daisies”
I’d heard that The Dorothy Clive Garden is at its peak in spring, so I headed over there yesterday to find out for myself. What do you think? Continue reading “Dorothy Clive Garden”
Susan Rushton 