Chris Myers and I were chuffed to bits by the turn of events at The RHS Chatsworth Flower Show last week. We both had good reason. After a slow start (the judges’ Silver Medal theoretically rated it worst in show), the garden he’d designed was validated by the popular vote, being named the one the public loved most. Me? I’d been rooting for it!
Naturalistic plantings were a theme of this year’s show, but his garden was a hymn in praise of wildflowers (or more of a folksong). I enjoyed lingering awhile, listening to the sighs of pleasure as people glimpsed Hay Time In The Dales for the first time and felt its emotional pull. I knew this garden would haunt me, and it already is.
I thought of it when our evening walk took us past a flower-rich hay meadow between Edgworth and the Wayoh Reservoir. Around its peak now, the wildflowers include buttercups, yellow rattle, meadow vetchling, red clover, wild blue lupins, and a blend of grasses. A public information sign beside the meadow explains this patch of land represents what is now one of the rarest habitats in the UK.
It all seems so normal, and that’s part of the problem. Continue reading “Hay Time In The Dales: People’s Choice Award Winner At RHS Chatsworth”
When I saw these common primroses hidden under a shrub in the gardens at Bridgemere Garden Centre yesterday, I marvelled that each petal is a heart. They looked so dainty and exquisite that I wondered if I was looking at one of the latest new cultivars.
I’d been admiring the Victorian-style, gold and silver lace primulas and some ruffled, rose-like doubles on the garden centre benches just a few minutes earlier – and, I confess, wrinkling my nose at a couple of the less dainty cultivars that are being offered this season.
Checking online, I see that every common primula (Primula vulgaris) has heart-shaped petals. How could I have forgotten in just a few months? Continue reading “Hidden in Plain Sight: Primrose Hearts”
I’m often surprised to see plants growing in strange places with little obvious means of support, such as this colourful succulent on top of a wire cage filled with rocks. Luckily for us, nature is resilient. These hollyhocks seemed quite content with poor soil at the base of a stone cottage in the Cotswolds, adapting to their surroundings by leaning outwards to catch more light.
I posted earlier this week about resilient plants that grow almost wild in a cemetery (if you’re a rose lover, and missed the post, you can find it here).
It’s impossible for me to write on this prompt without mentioning my belief that climate change is a real threat to us all. Let’s not push nature too hard or blithely take for granted her ability to bounce back. Resilience doesn’t mean invulnerable.
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”
We recently stayed with Linda and Mike at River View Hotel in Calico Rock, Arkansas. Knowing our love of nature, they kindly volunteered to guide us along a woodland nature trail so we could see spring ephemerals in their native habitat.
Continue reading “Woodland Wildflowers in the Ozark National Forest”
It’s a relatively small step from these pale yellow primroses (primula vulgaris) I found growing wild to the pink double below. Both plants are romantic in their way.
The fresh pink and cream colouring of this cultivated double gradually gives way to a faded parma violet as the flower ages. I can see how, for some, this might seem a flaw, but for me it adds an old world charm. Continue reading “Wild And Cultivated Primulas”