Sheltering under cover

Heavy rain and strong winds all day today.  It’s rare that our forecast predicts 100% rain all day, but that’s what we’ve got, so I’m staying warm and dry indoors.

The echeveria - tucked up under cover

The storm was forecast some days ago.  I had just read an article about echeverias, which had reminded me that, while some of them will withstand a little frost, they really don’t like wet.  My blue echeveria usually lives outside up against the patio windows, where it receives a little heat from the building, and is only taken into the greenhouse in the coldest months; with the rain in prospect, however (especially as the roof guttering is prone to overflowing just at that point), I took it in early and tucked it up under the staging.  We haven’t had any real frost yet, but wet is a deadlier enemy even to the hardier echeverias.

The weather has continued mild for the time of year, with a few summer/autumn plants still in bloom (the rudbeckia and little blue salvias, and even the last of the nerines and dahlias), but the cosmos is collapsing in a heap and will be pulled up and composted once gardening resumes.  Of the shrubs, Choisiya ternata is finally giving up, and Viburnum x bodnantense ‘Dawn’ flowered prolifically but is already fading; the winter honeysuckle (Lonicera purpusii) is still in leaf but is starting to put out its little, powerfully scented, flowers.  Mahonia ‘Winter Sun’ is blooming on regardless.  The temperatures are to drop later next week, with some frosty nights forecast, which will tip the garden into early winter.

Salvia 'Blue Monday' - still in flower

Yesterday I tackled the ivy that is growing up through the purple-leaved cherry tree (a survivor from before we arrived here).  The ivy has taken hold to the extent that it’s making a thick canopy at the top of the tree, and I want it out before it pulls the branches down, even if it means leaving some dying (and ultimately, dead) ivy foliage at the top.  The cherry is old and not in good shape, but I don’t want to lose it prematurely.  The ivy stems had all but fused with the cherry’s trunk, but I was able to prize some of it away and pull enough of it off to kill the top growth.  My efforts were watched at close quarters by the robin, who was rewarded with a lot of small insects that had been shelterng between the ivy and cherry trunk; occasional activity in the surrounding shrubs suggested that other birds had spotted this too, but it was the robin that enjoyed the feast.

Still bearing up

November sweet peas - 'Fire and Ice'

November has started mild, for the time of year; not particularly sunny, in fact often rather drizzly and damp, but with light winds from the south and temperatures up to the mid-teens (Centigrade) during the day.  I did bring out the gardening jacket one day, but generally it hasn’t been necessary.  And, though the winter-flowering shrubs are already in bloom, there’s still a sprinkling of autumn flowers about, and even the sweet peas continue to bear up.  There are also a few late antirrhinum flowers in their corner of the veg patch.

Still some antirrhinums

Down in said veg patch, the summer beans have been harvested, the remaining pods either eaten or left to dry in the greenhouse, and the plants composted.  The courgettes have been picked – although I found one overlooked fruit under the leaves; quite large if rather pale.  There are a few tiny fruits still on the plants but I doubt if they will grow to a usable size.  The row of carrots is gradually shortening as I pull them up for the kitchen, but otherwise it’s mostly cabbages, kale, leaf beet and lettuces (of which I now have too many – the plants that I had despaired of during the dry weather came back to life with the rain, and they and the ones sown as replacements will more than fulfil my needs).  There are also a couple of decent pak choi – the first time I’ve got anything out of these, as they usually end up being eaten by the slugs.

A pale courgette

There’s also a bed of leeks, but the plants, instead of being a nice upstanding crop, are flopping on the ground.  At first I thought that the birds had been flattening them, but now I suspect an attack of allium leaf miner, in which case they will be unusable and will need to go to the green waste bin.  Boo.

Flopping leeks

Another unfortunate bit of gardening was my attempt to dig up the white-flowered buddleja seedling in the drive.  I had thought that this would be easy, and I that I would be able to pot it up for planting in a more suitable location.  Not so; in a single season, it had put down a thick and strong root into the soil below the gravel, and immediately what had started out as a Desirable Plant for the garden turned into a Serious Weed needing removal.  It took a saw and some effort to get it up (and there's still some root in the ground, so I hope it doesn't regrow).  There was actually a smaller seedling alongside it, and I managed to get that out with a few small roots attached; it has been potted up and placed in the propagator in the hope that it might recover from the shock.  (But I still don't know where I would plant it!)

Fungi are still appearing in the lawn, and the ash tree stump by the drive is sprouting a splendid crop of them, quite decoratively.

Fungi on the ash stump

The green woodpecker has visited several times; it has located the ants' nest in the cowslip patch and spends much time feeding on them.  A blackcap is still around, enjoying a bath from time to time.  And the pheasants continue to hide in our garden when the shooting starts; we had twelve of them, a mixed party of males and females, the other day.

A pheasant invasion!

Sowing and potting

Cool and rather showery since the last post, and not much has been done in the garden; but yesterday I had a sowing and potting-up day in the greenhouse.

There’s still a sweet pea flower showing in the pot against the back wall, though it’s not particularly photogenic and won’t last long.  This year, after planting out the seedlings that were sown in late winter, I sowed some late seeds into the pot to provide a succession of flowers, and that seemed to work well; there were flowers in there for a long period, even though some of the plants suffered from under-watering over the dry summer.  I’ve now sown seeds for next year into small pots in the cold frame, and will try to remember to keep them watered; I think last winter’s failure was due to the pots drying out.

Sage and euonymus cuttings

I also tackled the several pots of cuttings taken in summer and earlier this autumn.  Some have already been divided up and potted on; the green and purple sages are doing well in their little pots, but I had left the cuttings of the variegated sage ‘Icterina’ until now.  It's a relatively new plant for me.  For a few years I had wondered about it – the yellowish colouring can look rather sickly – but having acquired one at a village plant sale a couple of years ago and having planted it out in the patio bed, I’ve decided that it can provide a nice contrast to green-leaved plants.  And, since there are plans afoot that may mean that that bed will have to be reworked, I had taken cuttings to ensure that I wouldn’t lose it.  The cuttings of the variegated euonymus which had been attacked by a scale insect infestation – taken in case of terminal decline of the parent plant – have also produced roots and have also gone into little pots, as have osteospermums and wallflowers, and two Photinia ‘Red Robin’ cuttings.  They are all set out in front of the greenhouse; I must remember to keep them watered and protected, if necessary, from excessively cold weather.

The euonymus cuttings were interesting; they seem to have produced most of their new roots near the top of the cutting rather than at the bottom.  I've never seen that before.

There are other cuttings about which I’m less certain.  You might think that signs of new growth on a cutting are a sure indication of its having rooted, but no, they seem to be able to keep growing without having produced any roots at all.  How do they do that?  The safe sign is roots poking out of the bottom of the pot.  There are cuttings of winter savory and Dianthus ‘Mrs Sinkins’ that are looking decidedly peaky but have the merest beginnings of growth on them, so I’m leaving them over winter to see if any roots appear!

A party of up to seven male pheasants has taken to strolling around the garden, probably sheltering from the local shoot (they have worked out that they’re safe here).  They particularly like hanging around under the seed and fatball feeders, and scratching about in the grass for dropped food – which is usefully scarifying moss out of the area.  I wonder if I can get them to do the whole lawn?

The bachelor party

Changing seasons

Back after a break in Scotland, to a garden on the change from autumn towards winter.  But the Choisiya ternata (Mexican Orange Blossom) thinks it's spring and is flowering its socks off!  Little does it know that I have plans to cut it back (severely) next spring; it's much too big.

Choisiya ternata - in full flower in late October!

The windowbox, however, was definitely in late autumn mode and in need of replanting for winter.  I had started planning for this a few weeks ago; the narcissi 'Tete-a-tete' had been started off in pots for transplanting, and various self-sown pansies around the garden had been dug up and potted on in preparation for this job.  I already had pots of the early-flowering snowdrop Galanthus elwesii and little rooted cuttings of Rosemary 'Miss Jessopp's Upright' (last year's windowbox plants had dried out irretrievably over the summer), and on a whim I dug up a couple of self-sown pulmonaria plants to fill out the space (we'll see if that works).  The result is a little bare but will do for the time being.  The summer planting has been dealt with; annuals composted and perennials potted up for next year.

Windowbox ready for winter

The birds seem pleased to see us back, with the birdbath refilled (the weather was mostly dry in our absence) and feeders replenished.  Over the summer we've had a pair of chiffchaffs about, and at least one of them seems still to be here; there has been a pair of blackcaps too, but I expect them to head south for the winter.  The fieldfares are here already, and probably the redwings too, so we don't expect to have many hollyberries to save for Christmas; the berries were ripe as early as mid-September and the birds will polish them off soon.

Holly berries in mid-September

The remaining eating apples still on the cordons have been picked and stored; we have plenty, but a great many have been eaten by the wildlife while still on the tree (and the pears too).  Usually it's insects and birds, but most of the damaged ones have teeth marks on them - the squirrel? or a rat (they're a fact of life in the countryside)?

A munched apple core - who's the culprit?

Something has also been rearranging the mushroom compost spread on some of the veg beds, and nibbling my radicchio plants; I had hoped that the latter would be too bitter for the wildlife to eat.  Ah well, if you attract wildlife to the garden, you can't expect it to necessarily play by your rules.

Nibbled radicchio, despite the twiggy protection

There are still a few small courgettes, and the French beans have a last few tiny pods, curled up against the chill, in addition to the old, larger pods left for seed; I need to pick and dry those off soon.  Another job will be to weed out the large number of foxglove seedlings that are colonising the bottom part of the veg plot; some years ago I put a few plants in there and since then their progeny has rather taken over.

Curled-up beans

Too many foxgloves!

In the greenhouse, the tomato plants have been cut down and the last fruits brought indoors to ripen; I've also taken the opportunity to pull up the yellow antirrhinum that has been flowering in there for a couple of years now.  It will have seeded sufficiently to come back next spring, and indeed I may have to do quite a lot of weeding to keep the numbers manageable!

I also have autumn-sown seedlings of annuals for an early showing next year: the blue salvia, marigolds and corncockles.  But the orlaya, also sown at the same time, has done nothing.  That plant really doesn't like me; it's supposed to respond well to autumn sowing, but I've never had anything from it.

Salvia, marigolds and corncockles - but no orlaya!

The lawn has been mown twice this autumn, and is already looking a little long although the weather is probably going to be too wet now to do it again.  There are more toadstools in the grass.  Fungi seem to have had a bumper year everywhere; in Scotland we saw an amazing variety of them.

Three types of Highland fungi ...

... and some more on a fallen log

Pink and orange

Autumn is always thought of as a time of golds and russets.  There's certainly gold (orange and yellow) in my garden at the moment, but the main colour, such as it is, seems to be pink.  Pink and orange is not a colour combination that I favour, though fortunately there are few places where the two appear close together; and in the softer light of autumn, the colour clash doesn't seem quite so garish. 

Nerine bowdenii

The nerines are starting to flower; they're flamboyant blooms, lipstick-pink and parading their finery at a time of year when most plants are winding down or fading away.  Nearby is a pot with a few last orange marigolds, but those are tucked away in a corner and not very visible from most angles.  

Cosmos bipinnatus 'Dazzler'

Another strong pink in the garden is the bed of Cosmos bipinnatus 'Dazzler' which has bloomed strongly for a few months now and is still providing some cut flowers for the house; I've managed to save seed from it to sow again next year.

Dahlia 'Bishop of Canterbury' - I think!

Dahlia 'David Howard'

The dahlias are recovering from their rather dry summer (pots insufficiently watered in the heat!) and are gradually starting to flower again.  The pink one which I think is 'Bishop of Canterbury' - although online searches suggest that 'B of C' is a rather variable variety so it might not be - is dominating the patio along with D. 'David Howard', which is a nicely soft shade of orange.  The two get along not too badly together.

Orange-berried pyracantha

Rudbeckia

As I've said before, this has been a spectacular fruit year, and the firethorn (pyracantha) on the north wall of the house has berried profusely - orange, of course.  And the yellow rudbeckia is also in full splendour.

The 'pink and orange' combo is at its peak in the berries of the spindle tree, Euonymus europaeus 'Red Sentinel'; the seed cases haven't opened yet, and only the pink outer is visible, with the orange berries still tucked up inside.

Spindleberries

Fruit of the season

A combination of wet weather and having other things to do kept me from checking on the garden for a couple of days, but this morning a foray down the veg patch and into the greenhouse produced a good handful of tomatoes and some fair sized courgettes.  The courgette 'British Summertime' hasn't done so well this year; as its name suggests, it is supposedly bred to fruit well in our summer weather, but we haven't had a typical summer this year and perhaps it has been too hot for it!  'Defender' continues to do well, however; I need to buy more seed for next year and 'Defender' will definitely be on my shopping list.

Down by the compost corner, several impressive clumps of toadstools have suddenly appeared in the grass.  I said in a recent post that the little solitary toadstool found in the lawn looked fairy-like; these ones are more for goblins, I think.  Fruit, but definitely not edible, and rather sinister-looking!

I made the most of a couple of dry days to get on with attempting to clip the long hedge into some sort of order.  I haven't cut the top for a couple of years; it involves balancing on the top of the ladder and hacking away with the extending shears, and last year there were too few dry days to do that.  There's still work to be done, but we're getting there.  One of the robins was obviously concerned that I was going to destroy his roosting place; he kept a close eye on what I was doing.  There's plenty of hedge left for him to hide in.

Greening up

It's strange for the garden to be turning greener at this time of year, rather than going brown; but the recent rain, some of it heavy, has encouraged plants to get a second wind.  The courgettes have started producing again, and the lawn is now looking more like itself than it has for a few months.  The rain has occasionally been accompanied by thunder, and together those have kept me indoors at times, but some dry spells in the past few days have allowed me to get outside.  Jobs have included making a start on cutting the long hedge (big leylandii, some too big for me to reach the back) - a layer of cardboard has been put down covering the path alongside the trees, and this is being gradually covered by the clippings as a weed suppressant.  For the time being I've left the ivy that is flowering through the leylandii in parts, to provide nectar for the insect population; a couple of years ago we had a great many red admiral butterflies enjoying it.

Male common blue butterfly

- with wings open

Butterflies have done better this year, and they continue to come to the garden; this week's spot was a male common blue which was around for a couple of days.

Birds are also about, albeit in smaller numbers in the moulting season; a robin has been showing interest in my hedge clipping.  Aside from the wild birds, young pheasants and red-legged partridges, brought in by a local estate for shooting, flock regularly in the field beyond us and occasionally wander in.  One day 20 partridges filed through the garden and stood on the summerhouse veranda for a bit until I gently moved them on (the summerhouse door was open and, although they weren't looking as though they were going to explore inside, I thought it best to discourage them from any such thought). 

One day I found a little toadstool in the lawn; a few hours later it had entirely disappeared.  I can see how they came to be associated with the fairies.