JEARRARD'S HERBAL
29th May 2022
Arisaema ringens .
It has been a heavy week. The atmosphere has settled on the garden like a broody chicken. Some spots of rain did nothing to lift it and a light breeze
just ruffled its feathers. The reckless brio of spring has run out of energy and is having a little sit down in the shade.
I have been doing some painting in the house and it has involved rolling back the carpets. There always seems to be a supply of yellowed newspaper under there,
too new to be historically interesting, too old to be relevant. A seagull stole a child's ice-cream in St Ives, that sort of thing. In the garden the painted borders have also faded,
the bright azalea flowers lie stretched over the bushes like yellowed newsprint. It is a short season of ugliness that marks the end of spring.
In their place I have the subtle wonder of Arisaema ringens. It has been growing steadily in the greenhouse for a decade or more but it wasn't until last year that I had the courage to split it.
Half went back into the greenhouse and half went into the garden where it has delighted me with a flower. I hope it will be happy in the long term.
29th May 2022
Epipactis gigantea .
Subtle beauty has hardly been the theme of the week, the Itoh hybrid peonies have hit their most opulent blousiness and Crinodendron hookerianum has been weighed
down with crimson flowers. The Dendrobium have been flowering and manage to be elegantly unsubtle which is a difficult thing to pull off successfully.
Epipactis gigantea has the same elegance but in an understated way. The flowers could almost blend into the clumps of foliage in their soft colours.
Almost, but not quite. There is no point in being a painfully elegant orchid if nobody notices. Without needing to be strident, the flowers are assertive.
I have been growing it for many years and it was increasing slowly. Three or four years ago I realised that it was very fond of water in the growing season.
Since then the pots have stood in water and it has been vigorous. Success inspired me to try three other species last year, only one of them has survived.
I don't think the plants were at fault, I think the source sent some really feeble pieces. I will be trying again.
29th May 2022
Paeonia peregrina .
I spend a lot of time in the garden and greenhouse trying to group similar plants together. It makes them easier to compare (theory) and makes them easier to manage (fact).
For example, I had a collection of Agave scattered about on the benches in the greenhouse, messy, spiky and incomprehensible. I built an Agave house, moved them all into it
and planted them in the ground. It was very useful to have a space dedicated to new world succulents with their simple glaucous architectural beauty. And then I added a couple of peonies.
At the time I probably couldn't think of anywhere else to put them and that is where they remain. Paeonia peregrina has astonishingly bright flowers.
It would do very well in the new herbaceous border just a few yards from the Agave house. One day I will feel courageous and move it but I am frightened that
I might lose the flowers for a year. It's just one peony, a year without flowers should be no big deal. Somehow it is. Peonies are necessary for the proper functioning of
a garden. Without P. pergerina the last days of May would be a desert of disappointment, a joyless black hole of despair.
It probably wouldn't be that bad, I might have got carried away. Peonies can do that to you.
29th May 2022
Tulipa sprengeri .
With mizzle lurking in the air like a bad smell on Wednesday the top of the garden seemed a long way away. The space under the trees at the top has performed well
this year. The snowdrops have been good, the new Corydalis are establishing, Anemone nemorosa has been a wonder, the Erythronium
flowered with spectacular glory. The bluebells have spread into a solid carpet and there was nothing left but the hope of some sputtering fireworks as spring matures into
summer. I have been looking for the buds of Tulipa sprengeri and not finding them. I know they are camouflaged, I wouldn't expect to see them but that
doesn't dim the disappointment.
So I staggered up through the mizzle on Wednesday knowing that the flowering season is short, determined not to miss it even if there weren't any buds in the first place.
I couldn't see them. A friend had to point out the bursts of scarlet between the bluebells.
Heavy atmosphere, mournful mizzle, yellowed newspaper and Tulipa sprengeri. Nothing remains but the joy.