Jearrard's Herbal

26th February 2023

Crocus 'Ruby Giant' .
A roaring fire in the stove reminds me that spring is well underway. The low sun has shone through the garden at times through the week and emphasised the magnificence of early growth. In the herbaceous border there are peony shoots that have reached the red and wriggly stage, glowing against the acid green moss that blankets everything in a wet climate. The wind has slid in from the north, slipping under the windbreak like a limbo-dancer and chilling everything. The garden is not deterred, I can't always say the same about the gardener. I have planted more camellias to plug the gaps (you can never have too many camellias). They look very small and inadequate at the moment.
One way to escape the chill was to lie flat on the ground, and it was the best way to see Crocus 'Ruby Giant'. They are planted in the herbaceous border, intended to come and go before anything else had started. In fact they are joined by the wriggly red peonies. I don't have enough of either to make a grand statement, but I like the idea.
The crocus were planted two years ago because I had missed the chance to buy Crocus tommasinianus and I was determined to put something in. I wanted to do a small trial to see if they might prosper in the open. Although the new border is bravely termed "herbaceous" it is actually mostly rock. The flat terrace was cut out of the hillside, and the underlying granite exposed. At one end it is a mixture of soil and rock, I hope the peonies like it. The crocus grow at the other end in two inches of soil overlying broken granite. It makes planting interesting. This is their third flowering season and most of the corms have survived. It is a tiny triumph and the most exciting thing in the garden.

Dionysia aretioides

26th February 2023

Dionysia aretioides .
There are other contenders for the "most exciting" title. I have a small and rather chaotic collection of alpines, most of which hate the idea of a wet atmosphere and treat my attempts to cultivate them with civilised distain. They don't die in a spectacular huff, they just wander away from their pots and don't return, like bored guests at a cocktail party.
Dionysia are fickle things at best. There is no reason to imagine that I would be able to grow any of them, but I can be phenomenally obstinate. Fickle versus obstinate. The score is about eleven to one at present, fickle winning. However, Dionysia aretioides persists.
I first saw the species at an RHS show at Vincent Square. Ingwersens had it on their display and I was transfixed. At the time I was a teenager and I didn't transfix easily, so it made an impression. In my mind I grouped it with the impossible plants that I would never grow. It has taken me fifty years to learn that I shouldn't jump to rash conclusions like that. Skilled growers today see it as one of the easier species, and I am sure they are right. I have killed all the others I have tried, but I have an inkling, a shadow of an idea. It is possible that I have learnt something in the process. I will keep trying. Obstinacy may yet win the day.

Primula 'Wharfedale Ling'

26th February 2023

Primula 'Wharfedale Ling' .
When I was growing up I had an aunt who enjoyed watching wrestling on tv. Occasional Saturday afternoons would be spent with her, watching portly men in swimming trunks jumping up and down and gurning. Wrestling has changed, it's all spangles, spandex and the fashion of the 1970's now, but there is still space for some wrestling in my life. It characterises my interaction with Primula for example. I'm not suggesting that I tend to them in my swimming trunks, but there is a certain amount on gurning. We have a relationship that balances affection and hostility.
I have killed thousands. More accurately, vine-weevil have killed thousands and I have not been able to prevent it. Slow progress. I think I have found a growing regime that suits Primula allionii and its close hybrids. I'm not so sure about P. auricula, my small collection is looking a bit sad at present, but perhaps they will take heart as the weather warms up. The rest of the genus have lined up as fights for another day.
The first flowers of P. allionii tremble onto the scene in early spring and immediately change the tone of the greenhouse, challenging the passivity of winter. The delicate colours are lost on me. All I see is portly men in swimming trunks jumping up and down on each other.

Pleione (humilis x Glacier Peak)

26th February 2023

Pleione (humilis x Glacier Peak) .
Gardening is just education with dirty fingernails. Some things I have learnt by observation, others by experimentation. Sometimes things just happen.
The Pleione have found themselves in the last category. Last year I was given a small collection of bulbs that the owner had no use for. I didn't want to put them with my own collection, Pleione suffer from a range of virus and pest problems and I didn't want to add anything new without a quarantine period. So the new Pleione went into a different greenhouse, under a new regime, in a hydroponic system with no compost. The big question is - would it work?
I have been watching with interest as the dormant pseudobulbs remained dormant. I can't see any sign that they have all died, but I have been afraid to look too closely. Among my own collection, P. (humilis x Glacier Peak) has produced the first flower. I have been to look at the new plants, and there are some small signs of growth. Perhaps the new regime will not be catastrophic.
The start of the Pleione season marks the return of the orchids. The Dendrobium will need some warmth and care to overcome the trials of winter. The Disa need re-potting (but the Disa always need re-potting, that's just the way Disa are). Before any of that happens I need to start watering again. The leisurely philosophy of winter has ended. It's time to get some more mud under the fingernails.