Winter garden dreaming

In my last article for the monthly magazine Hertfordshire Countryside, I allowed a smug comment about our mild weather to creep into the text and was rewarded, a few days later, by six inches of powder snow and temperatures down to minus 12 degrees C.  The distances I travel to visit clients have increased enormously since the days when I was based at a Hertfordshire garden centre, so observations of that sort will be kept to a minimum from now on, in the interests of road safety.

These visits see me gardening in an ever increasing variety of climatic conditions: a trip to Cornwall in January was swiftly followed by a garden in the Sologne region of forests and lakes of central France; in a few days time I will be in the Dordogne to help turn a muddy field into a glorious garden for an English ex-pat family.

Frosted Hellebore

While growing conditions are different at each of these properties, my teaching involves me in the gardens of students from around the world. We have one who lives at 6,000 feet in Colorado Springs, where there are frosts for 200 days of the year. Other challenges include low humidity, fluctuating temperatures, bright sunlight, heavy calcareous soils and drying winds, which often restrict plant growth more than low temperatures. Another student studying garden design with us is currently living in semi-tropical Australia. I am learning as much as I am teaching these days.

Our own garden is still nowhere near completed so perhaps I can be forgiven for dreaming about how it could be. No longer do we have teams of landscapers at our disposal, keen to help out the boss when work is slack. Now, if I need a patio or a new lawn, I have to either lay it myself or pay a landscaper to do it for me, just like any other homeowner. Unlike our clients, I will not be witnessing the creation of an instant garden and this time it is likely to take us several years to sort out. Perhaps that’s how it should be.

Hamamelis

Many times on the pages I have suggested that if there is not much in the way of flower or interest in your garden at a particular time of the year you should take a look around a garden centre or nursery to see what plants will fill the gap.  In our last garden I used to make a point of counting the flowering plants over the Christmas / New Year holiday and could normally find a dozen or two species. This year we had just two plants flowering outside – Jasminium nudiflorum and variegated Skimmia Magic Marlot – and a couple of Camellias in the unheated, north-facing conservatory. There were a few berries too, from Pyracantha and a Holly planted in the shade of our ancient Sequoia, but this lack of colour and interest must be addressed with some urgency.

One plant I miss from our English garden is Sarcococca. I planted one close to patio doors where its sweet scent could be enjoyed for many months over the winter. We had it hidden behind a black stemmed bamboo so that visitors could smell it but not see it without a bit of effort. Sarcococca or Sweet Box is amazingly easy to grow and thrives even in shade. A suckering evergreen shrub, it comes in a number of varieties from Sarcococca confusa, the largest at up to 6ft tall, to diminutive Sarcococca humilis. Our plant was S. hookeriana var. Digyna, tidier and with pinkish flowers on an elegant little bush. As a Chinese native I have mentally reserved a place for one in our Oriental Garden.

Daphne bholua 'Jacqueline Postill’

Fragrance is one of the benefits of many winter flowering plants; our potted Camellias sasanqua and grijsii are both delightfully scented and give pleasure to anyone coming to the front door. A favourite scented plant I have yet to own is Daphne bholua ‘Jacqueline Postill’, ‘Peter Smithers’ or the similar ‘Penwood’. While my heart says to go for the first, the other two are more reliably evergreen and equally perfumed. Any of these will satisfy me however and I trust one will be planted here before too long. I have a Daphne mezereum in the garden but, as so often happens, the plant has been grow in a nursery field and potted before sale, resulting in damage to the root system that prevents it thriving. The scented purple-pink flowers of this European shrub are a joy at this time of the year but I have been singularly unsuccessful in growing it so far.

We already have a fine Witch Hazel, Hamamelis x. intermedia Arnold Promise which, while not flowering for Christmas did not keep us waiting long. H. x. intermedia is a cross between species from China and Japan and this variety was bred in America by the Arnold Arboretum in 1928. The incredibly fragrant, bright yellow flowers appear just a few weeks before Forsythia and so can be thought of as providing a kick-start to spring.  It would be nice to also grow one of the red flowering cultivars and of these Diane perhaps the best.

Iris unguicularis

We have planted a selection of bulbs and both Snowdrops and Winter Aconites are ideal for early flower. Snowdrops spread rapidly and the gardens around the old mill at Chabris have thousands growing in the lawns. Iris reticulate and unguicularis can be relied upon for winter flower while some of our Daffodils also begin to flower in February.

The list of “missing” plants I dream about includes some common plants like Mahonia media, a plant I rarely fail to specify for the gardens of my clients. Again scented, again yellow, I like the story about the naming of the three Mahonia varieties Faith, Hope and Charity, bred at the Royal Gardens, Windsor were I worked under Hope Findlay.

Chaenomeles, the flowering Quince, is commonly grown here but has yet to make an appearance in our garden. With more than 70 varieties to choose from I shall be looking for something out of the ordinary, perhaps Cameo or Geisha Girl in peachy-pink, Lemon and Lime with pale green flowers or C. ‘Toyo-nishiki’ which displays flowers in red, white and pink variations and has large fruit ideal for jam making.

Helleborus hybrid

I find it hard to accept that we grow no Hellebores and jealously eye flowering plants in neighbours’ gardens. We have always had Hellebores in our gardens, either H. orientalis, the Lenten Rose, or H. niger, the Christmas Rose and used to carefully select seedlings to maintain interesting colours. Now hybrids exist between many species and the range of colours, leaf forms and flowering times has expanded along with their popularity. With plants selling for up to £25 over here I shall be hoping to buy one during a UK trip or beg for seed from a local gardener.

So many people tell me that they rarely venture into their gardens during the winter and this seems such a shame. Those who brave the cold weather should be given some encouragement and reward for doing so in the form of beautiful garden plants. I hope this review may inspire you to add extra colour and scent to your own garden.

 

Now that the kissing is done

There is something about Mistletoe. A parasite, or more accurately, saprophyte, on a range of trees and shrubs, it relies on its host for water and minerals while producing sugars in the sunlight like any other plant.

It is a traditional plant of Christmas and few homes would be without a sprig for kissing under! It seems a sign of our pleasure-seeking age that the tradition of removing a berry after each kiss has been overlooked in favour of a more liberal interpretation. In ancient times it had more serious (if less fun!) mystical purposes and there is currently much research into its cancer-curing properties.

You cannot go to your local garden centre to buy a living Mistletoe plant for the garden so the only option is to grow your own – unless Nature has done it for you. Berries are best kept in a cool place after picking but ideally are used fresh in February. The perfect host plant is an old Apple tree, but it grows well on Poplars, Limes, Hawthorn, Willow and locally, on the Robinia that invades the woods here abouts.

Now that we live in France we cannot help but notice how much more plentiful Mistletoe is in mainland Europe. While in the UK it has great value as cut seasonal foliage, landowners in France are generally delighted to see it removed from their trees. Of course, English retailers will tell you that the French version is of poorer quality.

I have grown Mistletoe several times, leaving little plants on trees all over the country, after the gardeners at Windsor Castle showed me how. The berries are simply smeared into a crack in the bark on the shady side of an appropriate tree. Germination, if it happens at all, will be fairly rapid, but real growth has to wait a full year. Our current garden now has a small clump developing in a Hawthorn .

Don’t expect to be harvesting crops to sell at the traditional November market in Tenbury Wells anytime soon, but do enjoy this traditional plant in your own garden if you can.

Mistletoe

 

Preparing the garden for winter

My reader from a cold climate will have noticed that winter is fast approaching. Even here in the Loire Valley most of the deciduous plants are naked after, in many cases, treating us to a final, fiery display of autumn leaf colour.

Our St. Catherine’s Day Magnolia planting was partly in preparation for this season. It is a far too valuable and beautiful specimen to lose. I have been getting in the ground as much as I can from my last delivery of plants so that they would not be frozen in their pots over winter. The soil acts as an insulator from the cold and, in the case of tender subjects like perennial Salvia uliginosa and Artemisia Powis Castle, I have planted deeply to make the most of this property of the soil.

 

Christmas cactus in the conservatory for the winter

Some plants have had to stay in pots for the time being. My little collection of winter flowering Camellias has been placed, in cold weather at least, in our unheated and rather leaky, north facing conservatory.

Here too are a pot of Begonia and another of Geraniums, which used to sit outside the door of the Gîte. It will not be the end of the world if they don’t survive the cold but I hope they do.

When the climate dictates I will also move the Tree Fern under cover joining the huge pot of Christmas Cactus which will soon be in flower. Eventually this conservatory could be something really special to greet clients and other visitors when they arrive at the front door. At the moment however, most of the space is taken up by office furniture and carpets awaiting a final home, so it rather lets us down.

Lemon tree under fleece

Our two lemon trees, brought from our home in England at great trouble and expense, have been treated to a pair of fleece covers with which they have been enveloped for some time now. This allows rain and some light through, but allegedly protects them from the worst of the frost and cold winds. These plants have not had a comfortable life since being turned out of their lovely conservatory in Bedfordshire and dragged, kicking and screaming, to this country. It’s sad to see them suffer but in the fullness of time a home will be found for them in the new office building: when we finally get ‘round to building it.

Other plants are dotted around the garden waiting for me to dig a bed to accommodate them. These will have to deal with the cold as best they can but the wet is equally a factor in winter plant loses. I have ensured that these pots do not sit on the ground in such a way as to become waterlogged. It is for this reason that when filling a tub or other display container you must add gravel, crocks or other materials inside to keep the drainage holes clear. It is also worth considering raising the pot off the ground during winter to create very free drainage of excess water.

Drainage is an important aspect of the soil as well, but harder to modify. Vulnerable plants can be planted in little mounds of soil to improve drainage, or grit can be added. Underground drainage pipes can be installed in particularly difficult sites but if you garden on heavy clay soil you have to accept that your soil will be cold and damp over winter and plant accordingly. We moved to mid Bedfordshire to escape the clay soil in Harpenden and here in France the soil is wonderful.  This will allow us to over-winter plants not dreamed of in our earlier gardens.

We have two enormous Sequoias in our property, as our regular reader will remember. These give us a few problems, but three great benefits: the dappled shade they provide is ideal for woodland plants and we have created an oriental style garden of Camellias, Rhododendrons, Hamamelis, Japanese Maples and other plants here; the soil nearby is dry, supporting plants which need to keep their roots this way and the overhanging branches act as protection from the frost. Consider placing your own frost-tender plants in the shade of a tree over winter.

Calendula as living mulch

 

We have tried one other trick this year to protect some tender plants from the cold. I sowed seeds of Californian Poppies, collected from plants flowering in the garden, around a clump of Salvia argentea hoping that they would act as a barrier to the cold and keep the soil a little drier. I did the same for newly planted Euphorbia giffithii Fireglow and used Calendula in a similar way elsewhere. It will be interesting to see how this turns out.

In gardens in the village some plants, notably large palms and Oleander, have been wrapped up in bubble plastic, while Arum Lilies have been covered in thick layers of straw mulch. I have noticed a few improvised cloches which shield plants from damp in addition to keeping them warmer -  our silver-leaved Salvia would enjoy that sort of protection.

If you must grow tender plants,- and I must even if you don’t – these sort of protective measures will ensure, as much as you can ensure, that your treasures make it through to the next growing season.

 

Gardening in France…..promise

The Cinema - theme of Villetrois Flower Festival 2009

I have had a polite request; actually it was verging on the offensive, but as it was from a loyal reader I will try not to be offended. The printable bits said something like: “Please let’s have a blog about gardening in France rather than the shameless plugging of your many a various businesses, fine though they may be” (I liked that last bit)

So, never let it be said I ignore my adoring public: there will be no mention of Les Sequoias B&B in this one, the new courses on offer at the Garden Design Academy will not be referred to and the fact that Loire Valley Properties now has a couple of chateaux on its books will be neatly side-stepped.

Chateau de Villentrois

 Villentrois Flower Show. Set in the old mushroom caves cut into the tufa of the river valley, this little show is celebrating its 21^st year which, for a village of some 600 souls, is not bad going.

Cave de la Poterie, site of the annual flower show.

It ran this year over three days and is free of charge. We chose to go on Saturday lunchtime when all the stand-holders were eating in a side cavern, so the passages were empty.

The theme this year was The Cinema and local schools, parks, landscapers and florists had created a series of displays based on this, occupying spaces cut in the rock which had once contained the mushroom beds of the company Malet. It was cold down there!

The film theme game was played by everyone: a stand full of fruit and vegetables had posters of films with appropriate names: Revenge of the Killer Tomatoes, Inspector Poirreau (=Leek, get it?) and many more. A lot of the French film references went over my head, but it was all good fun. This is what life in France is all about.

 

Gardens of Paris

The visit to Courson was a wonderful day out but the International Camellia Society had arranged further trips for the following day and I was invited.
First stop was a tour of the Arboretum Vilmorin, courtesy of a personal invitation from Mme. Natalie de Vilmorin, whose family owns the property. The four hectare arboretum is located on the site of a former hunting lodge of Louis XIV, acquired by Philippe-André de Vilmorin in 1815. He transformed the grounds into a collection of trees and shrubs acquired by plant hunters from around the world. The arboretum contains nearly 2,300 identified species, many rare and large.

Arboretum Vilmorin

 Although flowers were few and far between, to be able to walk amongst so many rarities with such a knowledgable host was a special treat.

We were invited to come again in the spring, an invitation I, for one, will be taking up.

Our second stop, after a meal in the Boulogne-Billancourt suburb, was to the Jardins Albert-Kahn. These were created between 1900 and 1913 by Albert Kahn, a banker and keen amateur horticulturist. There are several styles of garden, ranging from the Japanese garden and village, the undoubted star of the site, to formal French and English gardens. Amazing too, were the garden of blue Cedars and the recreation of forest habitats.

Jarden Albert-Kahn: Japenese village

It is so easy to lose yourself in this fantastic garden and so difficult to believe you are in the centre of France’s largest city.  Kahn is also famous for his photograph collections, recording the lives of ordinary people from around the world. He sent out photographers to bring back this record and they are regularly exhibited to today’s visitors.

Jardins Albert-Kahn: French gardens

As before, flowers were hard to find and another visit in the spring is a must for next year.

 

Camellia talk

At the end of a day visiting Courson, laden down with goodies, tired but happy, it was time to sing for my supper. I was asked to speak to the ICS group in the evening and had prepared a talk with slides to illustrate my subject: gardening in France, with particular reference to the International Festival of Gardening at Chaumont.

It’s been I while since I have lectured in this way but everyone was encouraging and I muddled through as best I could. I think it went OK, at least they didn’t refuse to give me the gift they had brought me: an unusual Camellia species – Cam. grijsii. I am still skipping about with excitement over the gift.

The following text and photograph was found here: http://sazanka.org

Camellia grijsii

Camellia grijsii (长瓣短柱茶 in Chinese) Hance (1879) is a wild species of section Paracamellia. It is related to C. sasanqua, C. oleifera and C. kissii. It was collected in 1861 in Fujian by C.F.M. de Grijs. It is distributed in China (Fujian, Hubei, Sichuan, Guangxi) and used for a high-quality oil production.

Camellia grijsii has great hybridizing potential. Two plants in my garden have small leaves with impressed veins and very columnar shape. I believe there are also varieties with larger leaves, but I am specifically interested in small-leaved cultivars.

Another great feature of C. grijsii is its cluster-flowering habit. However in my garden C. grijsii flowers from January to March, so it will be a challenge to cross it with Fall-flowering sasanquas. Probably I will have to store some pollen from sasanquas in refrigerator for a couple of months.

The plant itself was grown by Trehane Nurseries and Penny Trehane (yes, the Penny Trehane) was part of the group. Like so many famous and talented nursery-folk I have met over the years, she is a charming champion of her subject, an expert in Blueberries as well as Camellias.

My new Camellia will sit well with the sasanquas I bought at the show.

 

ICS visits Courson 2009

As noted in my previous post, last weekend I was the guest of the International Camellia Society and the RHS Rhododendron, Camellia and Magnolia group, as nice a bunch of people as you could hope to meet in a garden in France.

Friday we visited Les Journée des Plantes at Domaine de Courson, south of Paris. This is my favourite plant fairs and we try to go every year – so much easier now that we live in France, only two hours away by motorway.

Courson - the chateau from across the lake

The ICS had its own stand and I took the opportunity to meet them and buy a Camellia, a variegated sasanqua variety called Okina-Goroma, with pink flowers during the winter. I hope to keep this in a pot in the unheated conservatory which covers the north side of our house, to enjoy the flower and scent as you come to the front door.

As usual the range and quality of plants was astonishing and although I bought several, there were many wonderful plants I wanted which had to be left. Last year I regretted not buying a Skimmia japonica Magic Marlot and I made up for it at the stand of Pépinière Tous au Jardin, from whom I also bought a smashing Hydrangea paniculata called Great Star.

Hydrangea paniculata Great Star

The nursery had many fine Hydrangeas and I was pleased to see they won an award for H. involucrata Mihara Kokomoe Tama, together with the Press Award for the best display.

Also on the stand was Mahonia nitens Cabaret, a new variety which is already on my “must have” list for next year.

Mahonia nitens Cabaret

It cannot be said that plants are cheap in France, and with my pocket money disappearing fast I had to be quite selective. Guillot supplied me with a couple of Roses, including one from their Generosa range, similar to David Austens modern shrub roses.

We have been meaning to visit the Cayeux iris fields for years but have yet to make it: next June I hope. In the mean time, I have satisfied my desire for their plants by buying three, together with a Hemerocallis called Burning Daylight. From Darmartis I bought our second Lagerstromia, this one a dark pink, purple almost, called Dynamite. They also had variegated Euphorbia Tasmanian Tiger and this was added to the collection in the plant creche.

I had replaced a couple of plants left in the UK: Salvia uliginosa and Phlomis purpurea, bought a couple of grasses and a very pretty strawberry coloured Hydrangea hortensis Mirai before I relaesed I couldn’t afford to eat for the rest of the trip and called a halt to it. I made do with looking at everything the other members of the group had bought, jealously eying the Magnolias in particular.

This show can bring out the worst in you if you are not careful!

 

Food for Free

Nature is bountiful at this time of the year, here in central France. We never fail to return from walking the dog without something in our pockets and at the moment, we are mostly collecting Walnuts.

 There are still plenty of Hazel nuts around and as we become accustomed to the area we are beginning to work out which trees are not picketed, where to find the largest nuts and which trees are the most productive. This morning we returned with a basket full of nuts and half a dozen ceps, our favourite edible mushrooms.

Cyclamen growing wild in the Robinia woods

Locals are often very generous when they know you are interested. With a new kitchen recently fitted we have been testing out the equipment by jam and chutney making. Not having fruit of our own, people have been giving us bags of peaches, plums apples, pears and quince. Each of them receives a pot of jam from us in return. As I speak, Chantal is cracking walnuts ready to bake a cake this afternoon.

Colchicum - autumn crocus - growing wild in central France

Autumn flowers are also much in evidence now that the weather is cooling, the day length reducing and the rains returning.

Where once the ground was speckled with orchids there are now wild Cyclamen, Colchicums and, an exciting find, Saffron Crocus.

 
Here on the edge of the Touraine the grape harvest is all in, picked last week when it was warm and sunny. Mostly the crop was machine harvested but, talking to local growers, they are increasingly hand picking to improve quality. We are great fans of the local white but are still to be convinced that the red is worth the effort to get to know.

We are still recovering from yesterday. We had a business meeting in Valancay at 11 am and on arrival in the town the temperature was 17 degrees C. An hour later it was thermometer on the car dashboard read 21 and by the time we reached home it was 25. 

The atmosphere was strange and people in the town reacted to it. Out walking in the afternoon we had hardly got to the end of the road when someone stopped us to show off his new motorbike and offered us drinks to celebrate. Staggering off to continue our exercise we were stopped a few yards on to chat with an elderly lady who was in tears recalling her dogs and admiring ours.

In the park a man had his head in his hands but beamed when the dog wandered over and gave him a lick. Prior to that we had been sitting on the beach watching the river, when our decorator came over to sit with us for a while. A strange day ended with a huge thunder storm, with a bright red sky and a game of scrabble.

Perhaps someone had drugged the water but according to the weather man a hurricane had moved up the Atlantic dragging hot African air up through France. Who needs alcohol with weather like this!

 

Thinking of Autumn

Autumn is a gorgeous time of the year here in Le Centre, bringing mushrooms, the grape harvest, wild game and relief from the heat of summer. It is a time of harvest festivals celebrating everything from Berry green lentils, to apples and pumpkins and, it seems, life in general. And all of this is played out against a backdrop of rich autumn colour from cultivated as well as wild trees and shrubs.

Apple Festival in the Sologne

France is a good country to see truly spectacular displays of autumn colour. So often the weather is fine at this time of the year, giving the ideal combination of sunny days and cool nights. Here in the Indre, we are surrounded by forests of oak, birch, hornbeam and other trees and nearby chateau parkland hosts fine, old heirloom trees that put on a magnificent display each year.

Autumn colour at the Chateau de Courson

But autumn colour is not just for grand spaces – it can be created in your own garden, giving you a display that is every bit as exciting. For many people planting in the garden often revolves around the spring and summer months – but autumn too is a time when the garden can be a place of real beauty.

Between our gardens at home and those we have planted for clients we grow a very wide selection of plants exhibiting autumn foliage colour and I am always disappointed when we are asked for a garden that is largely evergreen. When a garden does not change with the seasons, one misses out on the wonderful transformations that come with a natural landscape.

Acer palmatum disectum with autumn colour

Our best area at home features both trees and shrubs with many, such as Sorbus, also carrying berries. With a background of hawthorn and hornbeam hedges, pride of place must go to the Japanese maples, of which we have four sorts including the deeply cut foliage of our old Acer palmatum atropurpureum, currently turning deep crimson. Even more spectacular is Cotinus grace, now a huge bush after five happy years with us and Euonymus europaeus Red Cascade, a variety of our native spindle bush which grows wild in the countryside and gives us both colourful leaves and fruits.
Part of the skill of a garden designer is to exploit plants to enhance seasonal effects. For me, there are two ways to use autumn colour well. The first is to scatter appropriate plants throughout the garden so that the eye is drawn from one plant to the next in a visual journey. This technique sounds simple enough but with so many other factors to consider it can be difficult to achieve without compromising other planting – having carefully created a ‘white garden’ for instance, bright red autumn colour in this same area may come as a bit of a shock. And autumn colour viewed against a background of dead and dying herbaceous plants will inevitably detract from the effect unless you cut back to clear the area around them.
When designing your borders keep autumn in mind and if you have not included something autumnal by the time you are halfway down the bed, now is the time to add something. A deciduous Berberis here, a group of Ceratostigma there, adds areas of red and orange to the scene and creates hot spots of colour throughout the garden. For those with a mature garden consider removing one or two under-performing plants and replace with a clump of ornamental grasses or perhaps a small tree such as Prunus subhirtella Autumnalis, which provides both autumn foliage and flower.

Trees and shrubs for Autumn colour

If you have the space it may be easier to take the dramatic approach – concentrating plants within a section to create an autumn garden. As leaf colour changes day by day there is little need to select specific shades when a wild mixture of plants creates the most exciting display. Given the time of the year it would be worth constructing pathways to make it comfortable to reach, while a gazebo, summerhouse or other ‘abri de jardin’ would create a cosy spot to view the colours. The Japanese often design viewing points into their gardens: a place to linger and appreciate the scene that has been carefully crafted for visitors.

Rhus typhina Tigars Eyes

While I have suggested the use of coloured foliage, there are also plants with berries and flowers at this time of the year and your autumn garden might also contain some of these to extend the all too fleeting period of display from the changing leaves. An example of this type of garden might include a tree, Liquidambar in a larger garden, Rhus or Amelanchier if space is limited. Liquidambar with its Maple-like leaves is a favourite here in France, while Amelanchier boasts attractive shrimp-pink new leaves, white flowers and black berries in addition to its bright red autumn leaf colour. Common Rhus is lovely but we have just planted the variety Tigers Eyes which promises spectacular leaf colour from a more modest sized tree.
Next we might add a shrub and Arbutus could fit the bill very well. It is evergreen and at this time of the year carries both Lily of the Valley-like flowers and fruits which resemble strawberries. More flower and scent too, could be added using rose pink Viburnum bodnatense Dawn, which will continue to give pleasure throughout the winter. Down at ground level you could try the Autumn Crocus or Colchicum, with huge pink or white flowers. Waterlily is a double variety which has given us much pleasure over the years.
In between these a few herbaceous perennials: Anemones like September Charm, and perhaps a few grasses. In our last English garden we had a huge clump of Cortaderia richardii, a form of Pampas from New Zealand, but also Miscanthus in several varieties, Pennisetum and others, all adding to the beauty of the garden with their feathery flower panicles.
While our new autumn garden is young you could fill in the gaps with some Pansies, but the allocated space will soon fill and give pleasure for years to come.

AUTUMN COLOUR FAVOURITES
I am always being asked for my favourite plants – a impossible request when I love so many and my choice changes faster than the seasons – but I will suggest a few you might like to try.
Trees for autumn leaf colour
• Liquidambar (Sweet Gum) with maple-like leaves and corky bark, leaf colour in good forms is crimson and gold. Beware of cheap seedling-grown plants which may not colour well; try Worplesdon or some other known variety.
• Quercus rubra (or Red Oak) is a large tree planted extensively in local woodlands. Best colour is on lime-free soil.
• Sorbus aucuparia Asplenifolia has both orange berries and bright red foliage in the autumn. There are many other types of Sorbus, all of them worth considering.
Shrubs for autumn leaf colour
• Acer japonicum Aconitifolium and other Japanese Maples for attractive cut foliage turning crimson. Best in a little shade.
• Cotinus coggygria Grace is a spectacular variety of the Smoke Tree, native to the south of France, with purple-red foliage turning scarlet. The leaves are translucent so if you can, position it to be viewed in the evening sun.
• Deciduous forms of Azalea colour richly with yellow, orange and crimson forms according to variety. Bright flowers in the spring, often sweetly scented. If you have the space and soil which is not chalky, grow lots!
Autumn flowering plants
• Hebe Great Orme. A superb evergreen shrub whose pink and white flowers are produced over a very long period, often to Christmas.
• Kaffir Lily, Schizostylis, a South African bulb flowering in shades of pink and ideal for a warm spot.
• Anemone hybrida Honorine Jobert with pure white flowers and yellow stamens, looking lovely next to Maples in our garden.
• Miscanthus sinensis Zebrinus. A late flowering grass with gold bands decorating the leaves. Great in cut flower arrangements.
Plants with berries / fruits
• Pyracantha is a spiny shrub often trained against walls or used as a hedge. Stunning crops of yellow, orange or red berries. The birds will thank you for it.
• Pernettya: highly decorative berries on small evergreen bushes, but only for acid soils.
• Malus. Crab Apples in a wide range of forms, but generally ideal for a small garden. I’m fond of yellow fruited Golden Hornet.
• Cotoneaster. There are low ones, tall ones, variegated plants and weeping forms. For a large space Cornubia is unsurpassed and for yellow berries match it with Rothchildianus

Ask me tomorrow and I would come up with a completely different list of favourites but I hope this brief look at the possibilities will inspire you to celebrate autumn colour in your own garden

 

Hibiscus (not Rose of Sharron!)

I was Googling around a few days ago, trying to find the origin of my latest pride-and-joy, Hibiscus syriacus China Chiffon.

I say latest: we have owned the plant for several months now and gave it a place of honour outside one of the living room windows, next to a favourite sculpture and water feature. It has recently started to flower, so now we can see what we have bought.

Hibiscus China Chiffon flowering with Verbascum Helen Johnson

The photo shows the flower of the Chiffon series quite well, a simple flower with the addition of small petals in the centre.

From what I can gather, at least two of the series were bred in Cambridgeshire (UK) by a private gardener, with the rights to distribute sold to Notcutts, famous for Hibiscus but no longer trading, and to Briant in France.

I hate common names for plants and I have seen several listings describing Hibiscus as a Rose of Sharon, which for the British is Hypericum, especially the groundcovering H. calycinum. Life would be so much easier if we all stuck to botanical Latin!

Wandering around via Google I also noted a range of different flower types listed as China Chiffon, varying from small inner petals like ours, to full double flowers. Sometimes these effects vary depending on the weather; sometimes varieties are mixed up at the nursery. If anyone has a view on my plant, please feel free to share.

Here in central France Hibiscus grow very well and they are used as hedges in many local gardens. Often English clients are surprised when I tell them I have planted Hibiscus for them: they confuse it with  Hibiscus rosa-sinensis, which they may have grown as a houseplant. On a recent trip to visit a client in the Almeria region of the south of Spain, they were growing a range of these in the garden.

An apricot-coloured Hibiscus rosa-sinensis growning outside in Spain

These tropical plants are evergreen provided the temperatures remain above 10 degrees C and are used both as hedging and specimen shrubs.

H. syriacus is deciduous and hardy. There are many varieties to choose from, offering flowers in white, blue, pink and red, with several double and bicolour types.  The RHS Plantfinder list 46 varieties, although it may be some are not available and a few others are listed here in France.

More gardening news from Chateau Elliott: on a trip to the DIY shop today I dropped in to Gamme Vert to see what they had to offer. A nice garden centre, I thought and they were discounting herbacious plants by 70%. Three paeonies were snapped up and are now planted in the garden. More on these no doubt, when they flower.