JEARRARD'S HERBAL
10th November 2024
Acanthus sennii
It has been a grey and rather gloomy week. Still air has sat over the garden and heavy cloud has hung in the sky. It would have been great weather for spraying
but I didn't do any. There's a section in a new border that needs spraying now. It could wait until spring, but be then it will be more unruly and much more trouble.
Perhaps there will be time next week if the weather remains still.
Looking around the garden has been like peering into the shadows. Everything is dull and rather drippy. I looked for the first snowdrop outside but there was nothing to see.
There are a couple of thin buds that might be snowdrops one day, or they could turn to slug fodder.
On the south wall of the house Acanthus sennii is producing a last head of flowers. This plant took a long time to get going. The bed at the base of the wall is quite dry
and I think the Acanthus would prefer more moisture in the spring when the new shoots are growing. Fortunately it seems to have spread its roots out and the new growth
is quite robust. Its parent plant, in the Agave house, always starts more strongly but struggles as the summer warms and hardly flowers now. The time has come to dig it out and move it
outside but it will wait until the spring when the risk of frost has passed.
10th November 2024
Camellia sasanqua 'Rainbow'
Sometime in June it became clear that the last of the Camellia flowers were falling. It isn't a sad moment, there is a sense of gentle relief involved.
It's like getting to the end of a book you have enjoyed. It's over, and although there is a slight shadow of regret, there is also a sense of completeness.
More importantly there is a sense of relief. You get to the last pages and you're thinking 'please don't mess it up now'. Almost pleading with the author
to bring it home safely. I remember one author - no names no pack drill - so determined to have a final twist in the story that he lost all my empathy in the last two pages.
If I had known it, I would have torn them out at the beginning.
The Camellia reached the last pages in June and bowed out gracefully, gone before they were unwanted. Two weeks ago I looked for the first buds of the season
on Camellia sasanqua and found nothing. This week C. 'Rainbow' is sparkling with flower, starting the season and challenging the gloom.
There will be more dull weather to come, and worse. There will also be more camellias. Put down one book, pick up the next.
10th November 2024
Clivia gardenii 'Maxima'
The greenhouse is a refuge. When skies are grey or rainy or bright the greenhouse is a refuge. Sometimes the garden is alive with vivacious wonder
and the greenhouse is still a refuge. A secure place to escape the tiresome cheerfulness. This week the greenhouse has been a refuge from the
ominous twilight of the garden. It isn't that the greenhouse is brighter. The summer shading is still up, it is darker in there. It is just as dank as the garden, the
heavy humid air is trapped inside in a pool, but it is still a refuge. Some weight is shed as I pass through the door.
It is the weight of practicality, because the greenhouse is an insane space. Nowhere in a practical garden would I find Clivia flowers in November.
I wouldn't even expect the plants to survive. The greenhouse carries it off with a gentle shrug and a kind smile. It doesn't make sense, it doesn't matter.
Clivia gardenii 'Maxima' has produced a flower out of nowhere. It blooms just as I start worrying about cold weather. I should bring some of the plants indoors.
If we get a really bad freeze they might suffer. I will leave them to enjoy the refuge for a bit longer.
10th November 2024
Hedychium 'Gardner Waters'
Yesterday I went down to Penzance. They had a day of strong winds, the bananas have all been shredded for the year. Back at home they are looking lush but vulnerable.
The leaves are still intact but there are a few snapped ones lying around untidily, breaking the exuberant order of summer.
Behind them the Hedychium have come to the end of their growth cycle. They are standing in full magnificence wondering what to do now.
Those that are going to flower are doing it. Those that aren't going to flower have joined the bananas in twiddling their thumbs. They are standing around, waiting.
There is colder weather coming. It will darken their leaves and eventually knock them to the ground. It has been a very good year for the Hedychium
but the sense that it is coming to an end is inescapable.
H. 'Gardner Waters' is making a last stand. It has thick stems and strong flowers and will survive some gusty weather, throw off a light frost.
It provides some distinctive illumination in a dark corner. As it goes the Camellia sasanqua around it will take over. As the dark weather builds the Hedychium
has fired a starting gun for spring.