Loose ends, but not at a loose end

Interesting stats at the moment… I have most likely never published as few posts per week as I have over the last three months. I have had fewer comments posted than ever. I have posted very few comments on other’s blogs. Blotanical is right off my radar. Yet Feb 2012 has seen the highest number of visitors per day to my site since I started blogging in July 2009. Why? Bleak winter weather in the North? Could be – I’ve noticed that my viewership peaks in Jan-March, but ‘soared‘ rather than ‘peaked’ would be the right word this year. More potential business? Could be, as I advertise the open garden and the holiday accommodation much more intensely these days – yet not many people leave the sort of trace that I can recognise ‘business’ visitors by, such as clicking on the ‘visit/stay’ page… Be that all as it may, the above pic with its blue and yellow (daylily) was a composition that reminded me of one of my few remaining regular blogging correspondents, Jean from Jean’s Garden, and thus I dedicate this photo – as well as my interest in the academics of blogging – to you, Jean.

In my previous post I spoke of the Haenertsburg Lilies, Lilium formosanum; last weekend a couple planned their wedding in my garden to coincide with the lilies. An interesting wedding, where the guests were to bring their own picnic baskets and the setting was all. Unfortunately an almighty shower in the early hours of Saturday, followed by what looked like set-in heavy rain, made them move the venue back to Polokwane, 60km away, were they and most of their guests come from. By 10am the sun was shining and the roads passable… But no-one would have guessed that at 8… They were back to spend their wedding night in the cottage, and they will be back to take the ‘official’ pictures.  The above photo, taken from the veranda of The House that Jack Built, is dedicated to Amrian & Liebie.

Now this is random. I was photographing some of the various wild flowers for next week’s Wild Flower Wednesday and decided to include these grasses. But then I saw The Enemy – and include it here. You might recall my letting off steam last week about horrid invaders that are not on lists whilst the beautiful Haenertsburg Lilies are. Well, I was specifically referring to the plant just to the left of the grasses, known in our family as The Enemy. It is Conyza albida, also known as C. sumatrensis and commonly as fleabane – although there are garden-worthy asters that also go by that name. So potent is it, that it can shoot up from near invisibility to this flowering stage in only a few days. What is more, a plant pulled out at this stage (luckily quite an easy action) needs to have its flowers stripped off, otherwise the buds will go to seed on the dying stem!

Change of mood. Something bright for the northern winters again. The Ginger lily – Hedychium gardnerianum – is considered one of the really bad invaders, despite its beauty and scent. I have seen how in frost-free areas just a few kilometres away it spreads wildly. But here they get frosted to the ground every year before the seeds are ripe, and so I allow them in controlled garden conditions. Their leaves are lovely and their rather untidy flowers form beautiful heads of orange and soft yellow.

It is a while since I posted dedicated dog pics. Here Louis is playing with Mateczka, teasing her with a length of bluegum bark off the big tree.

The canna beds were recently replanted and their varied leaves form the first layer across the water in the view towards the big house. I love the massed effect of their dramatic leaves that lasts all summer. Mateczka loves the rustling sound they make when she charges through them. Ouch! That doesn’t make for good dog discipline…

On the home stretch of an afternoon walk I look up to see my favourite plant combination in the whole garden catching the late light. Besides: the gate after which Ellensgate is named has recently been cleaned up, the golden abelia hedge is trimmed and Monty is striking a pose…

Here it is in close up: the junipers that frame the top of the axis path are desperately in need of trimming, perhaps even replacing with young cutting-grown specimens. They are too big now… I have just gone through my books and I am pretty certain that what I have is a species form of Juniperus squamata. It is not blue enough to be the form ‘Meyeri’, but there is a definite blue tinge to the foliage. It grows with Berberis thunbrgii ‘Rose Glow’.

When the planting was still very young I discovered somewhere in a rustic nursery a particularly fine form of what is sold in South Africa as ‘Prunus nigra’, regardless of the detail of leaf or flower colour. More correctly, I guess, because no-one has made this clear to me, it should be classified as Prunus cerasifera ‘Nigra group’ as there are pink and white flowered forms in various sizes, but all are of the earliest blossomers. It was simply through growing them myself that I became aware that they differed greatly, and I started looking out for special examples. Which this one was. The leaves seemed thinner and more delicate, so that their claret colour had a translucent glow, very different from the lugubrious darkness of some examples. I planted it hopelessly too close between the juniper and the berberis. However the scale has always been perfect, and it has always remained a small shrub in ideal proportion to the berberis.

The above photo was taken in November 2006 (which proves how long this has been a favourite composition!) The photo below follows on the upper ones and illustrates a remarkable quality of this prunus: as summer progresses and the leaves thicken, they gradually take on a bluish tinge which relates them more closely to the juniper than the berberis.

At a later stage I added one of the Abelias introduced a few years ago – when I snoop around Google Images the name Abelia x grandiflora ‘Confetti’ rings a bell. (I know it is not ‘Harlequin’, which I have yet to try…) It adds further interesting leaf colour and foreground stature to the composition (see the first two pictures), but it is the threesome which represents my idea of a perfect foliage mix!

 

Coloured foliage, and an update to an old post

Going through my blog to get the feel of reading it as a unit, I realised that I had left out a photograph in my 30 September ‘Spring Kicks In’ post. Do go take a look at it; it shows the view across the water to my cottage as the Acer palmatum atropurpureum comes into silvery leaf.  I wrote about it, but never posted the photo.

Talking of coloured foliage led me to one of this week’s shots. It is of the plant association I am most proud of in my garden.

Flanking the path at the start of the axis down past the Ellensgate Garden are a pair of pungent junipers with lovely blue-grey foliage, not so ungreen as to be cold or dull. They are I would say Juniperus x media ‘Blaauw’ – or as close to it as I have ever been able to identify any garden conifer. Planted hard up against it – too hard at the moment as the junipers needs careful cutting back – is a particularly fine Prunus cerasifolia nigra. In South Africa no attempt is ever made to identify cultivars – in fact few nurseries do more than lump them together under Prunus nigra, the Black Plum. However each of my 7 or so plants is distinctly different, with flowers of different sizes and leaves of different shades. I found this one in some now forgotten nursery and was immediately struck by the small, lacquered leaves of an intense wine red. I’ve paired it with Berberis thunbergii ‘Rose Glow’ , just coming into leaf in the photo. Next to the berberis is one of the Abelia cultivars that were launched with great fanfare a few years ago, but have since seemingly disappeared – low-growing with a palish leaf with yellow and pink colorations. Finding its name would be a mission. Below the juniper is the Abelia grandiflora ‘Francis Mason’ hedge which masks the triangle of brickwork where the Ellensgate Garden is built up. This is the most successful and effective yellow-leaved hedging shrub in my climate, although Durantha ‘Sheena’s Gold’ is used more freely in the warmer parts of South Africa. Below that the willow of Alfred’s Arches, Salix caprea, is coming into leaf.

The foreground is one of the most neglected and satisfying parts of the garden. It lies above the wall and next to the steps leading down the axis. Given over to self-seeding annuals, it is seldom without something of interest and often magnificent. We started the year with a wonderful assortment of Nemesias now a little overshadowed by the green growth of early summer flowerers; no wait – the Namaqualand Daisies (Dimorphotheca sinuata, but no-one would have a clue what you were referring to here!)  flowered from late winter and a few are still in bloom – cheerful sunny orange daisies. Cornflowers are coming along, and opium poppies are growing nicely. My all-time favourite, near-species Nicotiana elata add white, moody mauves and deep red; their seed has been nurtured in the family for over fifty years. By high summer the zinnias will be a show. Occasionally we pull out the spent flowers but only after they have seeded. Studying the content of the waist-high bed makes a wonderful last stop on a walk, before climbing the steps to the front door.