JEARRARD'S HERBAL
19th January 2025
Galanthus 'Lady Dalhousie'.
Some sunshine through the week has made all the difference in the garden. The sky has been bluer, the garden warmer. Only the chill wind a strange quietness hint at the presence of winter.
There is very little cover in the garden. The most recent winter storm blew in from the north and has even removed leaves from the camellias. They are lying under the bushes,
helpless and quizzical. Without much cover, there is no birdsong. A robin had a try but gave it up as a bad job. The birds are keeping quiet and concentrating on getting through the days.
The last storm brought down my Liriodendron, which landed on top of Galanthus Lady Somebody (I had forgotten temporarily). The Liriodendron has been
sectioned and removed and the snowdrop has appeared, undamaged by the encounter. I wasn't sure why Lady Somebody had been named. She is lovely, but not very distinctive.
I was inclined to see her as a well intentioned dud. She has a good flower, she has increased well, she has resisted a Liriodendron. Perhaps that is the sort of heroism that deserves a name.
By the time I had cleared the fallen timber I had remembered that she was 'Lady Dalhousie'. An online check reveals that 'Lady Dalhousie' is a distinctive, greenish snowdrop
with broad leaves. My forgotten lady is an imposter.
She will be left in place, heroine of the storm, but I will discreetly remove the label.
19th January 2025
Mahonia siamensis .
Some plants have attached themselves to seasons for reasons that escape me. Mahonia belongs to winter, despite the abundance of interesting species that flower in spring and summer.
I think the reason can be laid at the stumps of Mahonia x media, stalwart of winter flowering shrubs and prickly sweetheart of the designers of winter gardens.
It is a lovely thing though it performs best when it is pruned to keep it compact. Given its head it will grow long bare stems sporting tufts of prickly leaves that ooze flowers
in the middle of winter like a trickle of gravy on a Christmas dinner. It is a lovely thing but cutting it back savagely is also strangely delightful and there is a message
to be learned from that. The winter mahonias have finished, they have performed admirably and hopefully they have taken winter with them - the matter is far from decided, the fingers remain crossed.
In their place, Mahonia siamensis is flowering in the Agave house. It has a reputation for being a little tender so I have one outside and one under cover. The plant outside
grew best, rapidly making a well filled bush. Under cover it has grown into a couple of leafy sticks and some exuberant flowers.
The plant outside was by far the better specimen, right up until it died.
19th January 2025
Camellia yunnanensis .
Some of the camellias were caught by the wintery winds. Camellia 'Gwavas' was looking dense and smug, like a Dagenham lottery winner, until the wind came. The first insult was a passing
Liriodendron which ruffled the camellias composure by landing on it. The splayed shrub was then exposed to the full force of the cold wind. It has lost a lot of leaves from the top half.
I have a row of camellias planted by the front wall. Where their tops poke up above the stonework, the branches look bare. I think they will recover rapidly once the new growth comes
but some of them are going to flower on bare twigs. They may look sensational, they may look rather foolish, possibly both.
'Fairy Blush' has been looking a bit threadbare for years, this is a good time to trim a couple of feet off and try to thicken it up.
Camellia yunnanensis had been romping away behind the wall, looking as though it was going to become a tree before it flowered. It has gone a bit bald on top, but it is flowering well lower down.
The flowers are a bit lop-sided but the latest flush are better than the first few that opened. As the weather warms it may become the stand-out plant in the row.
19th January 2025
Camellia 'Show Girl'.
Further back in the garden, Camellia 'Show Girl' has reached a peak of performance. She is backed by a group of elderly Leyland Cypress and as a result escaped the worst
ravages of the wind. I am particularly pleased with her appearance this year, finally back on form after a couple of difficult years. A comrade of those same Leyland Cypress
fell on her head a few years ago and snapped her in half. This is the first year that she has flowered exuberantly without also looking slightly squashed.
If the hard, rounded flower buds of camellias can be said to quiver, then the garden is full of quivering buds. The weather forecast is suggesting that the mild weather may continue for a while
longer. I am gently optimistic without wishing to tread onto the thin ice of hopefulness. A week or two of decent weather will see the garden turn camellia-pink.
If not it will at least turn snowdrop-white, at worst snow-white. As they say, forecasting is very difficult, particularly about the future.