A winterval

We've just had a brief spell of winter.

The frosty nights that were forecast for the later part of last week turned out to be accompanied by an overnight fall of snow; not heavy, but a good covering of the ground, with temperatures barely above freezing by day and a degree or two below by night.  The remains of most of the tender plants, such as the cosmos, and the courgette plants, were sent to the compost bins ahead of this, and I also managed to pull up most of the surplus foxglove plants that had seeded out of what has become the foxglove and antirrhinum patch into the veg plot paths and were taking over.  While I was down there I noticed a few last antirrhinum flowers and, as they weren’t going to last long in the cold, I cut them and brought them inside to make a little posy for the table.

A few last antirrhinums

My main concern is for the dahlias, still in their pots.  You’re supposed to leave them until the frost has blackened the tips of the leaves, but they were frozen into their compost, which won’t be good for them.  I cut off the top growth, or what remained of it, and laid the stems across the tubers for a little protection, with some tattered bits of horticultural fleece on top for good measure.  The smaller pots were taken into the greenhouse, although temperatures in there also dropped to below zero, which isn’t ideal.  I haven’t been out in the rain to see what the damage is; fingers crossed that the tubers won’t be too frosted.  A pot of basil that had also been taken into the greenhouse to recover from an attack of greenfly is looking brown at the edges, so may be on the way out (and I hope that the greenfly are too).

The cold won’t have affected the winter honeysuckle, which is starting to lose its leaves (it’s always the last shrub to drop them) but is producing plenty of little flowers. 

Winter honeysuckle (Lonicera purpusii)

The wind has now turned to the west, bringing rain and slightly warmer temperatures; still single figures (centigrade) and with a chilly wind, but clearing all the snow and ice.  The forecast is for it to continue damp (or downright wet) and rather less cold.  The birds will be pleased with that; they’ve been enjoying our crop of cooking apples on the table outside the dining room window.

But despite the coming winter, there are signs of the spring beyond in the garden: catkins on the hazels, and - to my surprise - flower buds on the camellia that has never flowered.  Next year I may at last discover what colour the flowers are!

Hazel catkins

Camellia buds!

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!