JEARRARD'S HERBAL
27th November 2022
Camellia 'November Pink' .
With November drawing to a close it has to be noted that the autumn has been remarkably mild. The wind has whistled through the trees, the rain has fallen in torrents,
but the temperatures have remained high. I was on the road on Thursday, the car was being buffetted by the wind, and the rain was sluicing down the windscreen.
Mild is not the right word, but it was certainly warm. Most of the autumn colour is lying in a clammy layer by the roadside, but the Beech trees are still dripping
their honeyed tones. Beams of low sunlight are rare, but telling.
Camellias in the garden are flowering like political pundits on election night. Nobody knows what is happening, and however self-evident that may be, nobody wants to say it.
There have been a scatter of results, the C. sasanqua has flowered as expected, some early results from C. 'Nobilissima' and the headlines have been stolen
by the unexpected appearance of a 'Show Girl'. She may - or may not - influence the outcome.
Midst the clattering cacophony of uncertainty, C. 'November Pink' has slipped over the line, securing it's otherwise safe seat in the month by just three days.
In a normal year it would arrive in mid November, the first of the spring camellias to flower. The artificial pink of its shocking blooms cuts through the undecided season
and reaches a peak in February. This flower is a predictable result in an unpredictable year.
27th November 2022
Fascicularia bicolor bicolor .
The strangeness of the season has been reflected in the garden. A number of Agave had grown too large for the greenhouse, and they were moved.
A number went into other people's gardens, but they have also been scattered through my own garden, under the protection of pine trees. They look very peculiar.
When I planted them in the greenhouse I did so with a clear understanding that they would grow too big. When that day came, they would be cut out and composted,
there was no other option. When it came to it, I wasn't ruthless enough and I moved them to new homes. I was spiked quite thoroughly for my kindness.
If we get a heavy frost this year that kills them all I will be very sad and joyfully vengeful.
Fascicularia bicolor looks similarly alien in the garden. F. b. canaliculata is vigorous and tough. I have a dozen large plants in tubs looking
for the right location in the garden. Perhaps they will be used as replacements for dead Agave. I can hope.
The subspecies F. b. bicolor is less common in gardens, though it is frequently seen beside the sea in the southwest. It has broader leaves than
F. b. ssp. canaliculata, it doesn't flower as well, and it is less hardy.
On the plus side, I have been growing it for thirty years without killing it and when it produces occasional flowers, they are rich blue.
Flowering is unreliable, flowering in November is remarkable.
27th November 2022
Hedychium 'Gardner Waters' .
When the Hedychium were growing vigorously through the summer I hoped for a long, mild autumn. It has arrived and allowed a good season of flower.
H. 'Gardner Waters' is the latest to perform. When it was growing in the greenhouse it flowered in the last surge of the season. As the flowers faded
the greenhouse chilled with condensation and mould. The greenhouse teetered on the fulcrum of frost, balancing for a moment longer or slipping
into the cold on the whim of the weather.
Outside, the rain had kept the foliage fresh, and the flowers have been looking good for a couple of weeks. It is tempting fate to suggest that there isn't any
serious cold in the forecast yet, but the outlook is mild and the Hedychium are looking good. There are still plenty of buds to come
on species that could flower in December and January. It is a rare event, but it is possible. Yesterday I saw a plant of H. flavescens in full bloom in
a heated greenhouse. It is a common species, but I have only flowered it on a couple of occasions and always under cover. Perhaps this year
will produce a surprise outside.
If the frost comes and the Hedychium border turns black then I will rely on the snowdrops to welcome spring.
27th November 2022
Narcissus 'Cedric Morris' .
Next week we will be in December and the countdown to spring will have started. The garden is already full of signs,
an early taste of things to come. The first daffodil of the new season appeared during the week, and it is an event worth recording.
Unfortunately, a wandering mollusc discovered it before I did, and chewed a hole at the base of the tube. I hope the flower will
continue to open despite the damage, but I am showing the photograph now in case this is the best it gets.
'Cedric Morris' would prefer a warmer summer climate than mine, but it seems to be increasing slowly. Half a flower is better than no flower at all.
I have been trying to cross it with 'Rijnveld's Early Sensation' but the enterprise has been dogged by misfortune. Flowering times don't often overlap
and other factors come into play. Two years ago, the developing seed pod was eaten by a deer. I doubt that Cedric's pollen will develop this year, and the
Rijnveld's have yet to emerge. I looked at the meadow and decided that I wasn't going to mow again. I'm sure the buds have started to grow even though I can't see them.
A cold snap now would see the wonder of autumn truncated. Reckless mowing would do the same to the daffodils.