Taking a look around

       




        It is early February, the skies are grey and, quite frankly, the garden looks miserable. Dominated as it is by the massive red brick apartment block, which is more a statement of municipal power than a work of art, one can't help but wonder how any garden could turn this spot into a desirable place to be. Anna Millar, our contract garden designer has her work cut out. Still, she has left her first draft plans with us and we do like her ideas so far. It looks as though we're talking the same language. I have photograped her drawings and will look at them in the next blog. We look forward to a more in depth talk with Anna at a meeting on 21st March.

            

The winter has been mild, so far. Many plants have remained green, unburned by frost. Nevertheless, they look exhausted, as if their efforts to grow through the short dark days have tired them out.

         Only the ivy appears strong and vigorous. It lies like a brooding monster across the old rockery, watching for the first hint of spring so it may fling out it's tendrils to capture new territory. It will smother anything in it's path.
        I am told that, if this garden was simply left to it's own devices, it would not be invading species that take over but all the plants that are already here. Left to themselves they would simply compete and grow to dominate the spaces available. We have only identified one or two plants so far (we really are gardening beginners), but it is likely that most of them are hybrids, unsuitable as a food source for pollinating insects. If we are to establish a wild life friendly garden, we will have to import most of the insect attracting plants. An early task then, is to identify quickly what plants we have and which we want to keep. A walk around the garden reveals only a small number of spiecies, so perhaps the task will not be too onerous.

       

        A casual stroll, giving yourself time to pause and look at the garden from different points of view, reveals some interesting nooks and crannies. Take this Victorian brick wall, for instance, so full of time and history and character. Can we keep it, or is it too fragile to stand?

           I like it, just for the textures...

                       ...but what do we do about this?                     

              This steep bank has a fall of almost ten feet. It gets no sun and could even be dangerous. I know... let's cover it in ivy.



The Forsythia and the Parson's Stump.           This corner could be very pretty. The stone pillar is a memorial dedecated to The Reverend Joseph Wood, who died in 1869 and his good wife Maryann who died four years later. the Reverend Wood was vicar of the Victorian Methodist church that once occupied the site. The dedications were carved on the pillar when it supported the organ loft. When the loft was rebuilt the pillar was saved and set up in the garden as a memorial. In fact the history of this site goes back hundreds of years, we are looking into it. (More in the 'History' page, when we get to it.) The Forsythia is infected with a virus and is covered with galls. It's fate is in the ballance, but fear not, Anna, has plans for this corner. Behind it is a Buddleia, the 'butterfly bush'. This is what we want, isn't it? But this plant is so vigorous, we might be wise to get rid of it.                                    

             This is what you see if you stand rigt in the corner and look through the branches of the Forsythia and Buddleia.

                   When I look at this I think we should grow ivy over the entire orange ediface and have done with it. That's why they planted the conifers of course, to hide the oppressive architecture. I told you Anna has her work cut out. Still, this picture shows three of the garden walls, the old and the new houses at the back, the new wing to the right and the pink wall on the left. There isn't much we can do about the reb brick, but look at the pink wall. In the summer it gets full sun all morning...

                    ... What could we grow here, apples?

   

         

        Bleak and uninteresting as a February garden might be, one cannot take a camera outside without finding some wonderful little gems...

        ...like this.

You are being watched!

       





This is the pattern of rings in the bowl of the great Lebonese Cedar.
A dendrochronologist's heaven.
        I was told by the tree surgen, that it is because of Britain's wet climate that this tree has grown so rapidly. The width of each ring, shows the growth in a single year.


        There are a pair of doves that regularly inspect this bird house. I don't know if we should encourage them or not, (do they multiply like pigeons?), but this little wall is part of the garden's history.

         It has no function and the old morta has turned to soil, but surely we must try to save it.

        Just out of interest, this is the view from the other side of that same wall, showing the lifeless forest of red brick that surrounds the garden.













       Plants too catch the eye, like this red berry, left over, it seems, from the autumn feast. I don't yet know the name of the plant.



             The delicate seed head on this Japanese Anemone was too exquisit to miss. I am reliably informed that birds use the cotton-like seeds to line their nests. Perhaps a good reason to keep it for the new garden.

            And what about this ubiquitous weed, where does it fit in the eco-system? It provides a short but lovely display of purple flowers in the summer and seems to prefer to root in the cracks in walls. Could it play a roll in our conservation garden?

              This is the stump of the Robinia. It too has its roll in the cycles of life. Look at the plants gathering around its base. Should we try and save this too? 

            

          But for me, it's the Reverand's memorial stump that symbolizes the old garden. It is, after all a link to the garden's past. The great cedar that dominated the garden until a month ago was a mere 32 years old, this stone pillar dates back to 1792 and has direct links to Captain Webb and the Methodist Church in America. I think we should keep it.

                        So, there it is, a little glimpse of the garden as it is today. In fact, we've taken these photographs just in time, for tomorrow, (Thursday 8th March), a new tree will grace the garden. We get little say in this, however. It is, after all, municipal land and the Council has strict planning rules concerning it's trees. If a tree is felled, it must be replaced with another of the Council's specification. We were given two choices, American Oak or Gingko Biloba. By popular vote we went for the Gingko. Fortunately, Anna has the last word as to where it will be sited.   

        Watch this space then for the planting of the Gingko tree, the onging identification of plants, the progress of spring, and Anna's plans for paradise.