Not far from The Island (previous blog), just off the A27 near Romsey is a dahlia field open for the NGS.

Gilberts Nursery pride themselves in being growers of unusual plants and also specialise in Dahlias. ‘This may not exactly be a garden’, the yellow book describes, ‘but come and be amazed by the sight of over 300 varieties of dahlias in our dedicated 1 1/2 acre field’. So that is what we did.

I have to admit that I have never really been a dahlia fan. Perhaps it is memories of silly childhood limericks and inappropriate colour combinations. However this year I seemed to have grown up a little and have begun to warm to this diverse flower. So many varieties with a long flowering season, here it was quite a sight.

Row upon row of dahlias of all colours, supported by netting and clearly labelled.

Originally used by the Aztecs as a source of food and medicine, the dahlia hails from Mexico. Its introduction as a food crop into this country at the same time as the potato during the 15th Century was, not surprisingly, a great success.

It was not until 1789 that the director of the Botanical Garden at Mexico City sent the dahlia to Antonio Jose Cavarilles, who was working at the Royal Gardens of Madrid in Spain.

The original plant was a the tree dahlia, dahlia imperialis which can grow to about 20 feet and has hollow stems which the Aztecs used as a source of water and water carriers. It is from this one type that we get all these different varieties.

Cavarilles in fact grew three new plant forms, dahlia pinnata, dahlia rosea, and dahlia coccinea and he named the genus in honour of Andreas Dahl, a Swedish botanist and student of Carl Linnaeus.

I have always been amused by the Americans who pronounce them ‘Darhlias’; well of course they are right, so how on earth did we start calling them ‘Dayhlias’?

Talking of Americans this is Thomas A Edison, a dahlia classified as a medium sized ‘decorative’.

There are in fact 15 formation classifications, more of which can be seen on the very helpful website of the National Collection of Dahlia held at Varfell Farm, Penzance,  https://nationaldahliacollection.co.uk/selecting-your-dahlia/, who are also supporters of the NGS.

A popular type is the neat ‘ball’;  this one is named Barbary Monitor,

another ‘ball’ but in miniature is the Auroras Kiss.

There is the ‘miscellaneous’ type such as Albert Schweitzer,

or the giant ‘decorative’ Alvas Supreme.

At the end of the field is the seedling bed,

where you can sit back and enjoy the splendour. Hasn’t the plastic chair come on a pace; now fashioned in adirondack-style they can be purchased in lime green.

White Swallow is not yet listed but is probably of the waterlily type,

similar to the bright Kens Flame.

There is rather a magnificent type called the ‘collerette’, this is glorious Mary Evelyn,

a contrast to the quieter Apple Blossom.

Bees seem to enjoy the ‘miscellaneous’, busy in the centre of Daisy,

and also pink Coccinea.

It is  family-run nursery, with plenty for sale. I am anxious to purchase Pooh which I came across in another garden and while the young assistants set about searching amongst the pots I chat to Daisy who has found shade under the table.

Alas Pooh has proved to be a popular choice, for others have beaten me to it and all that can be found is a dishevelled specimen. Attacked by the wasps it is offered to me at a knock-down price. Never one to miss a bargain and combined with the assurance that all will be well with a bit of TLC, I am glad to take it home.

I am happy to report that Pooh is now doing hummingly well back.

——-72——-

The garden gate was open at The Island on the last weekend in August. Situated on the River Test near Romsey in Hampshire, it was the second of two consecutive days of opening and the sunny weather attracted plenty of visitors.

It really is an island and in order to gain access we crossed a footbridge over a good sized tributary,

where plenty of trout swam in the sunlit water flowing beneath.

Through the branches of a large cedar cedrus atlantica Glauca, the neatly-mown lawn sweeps down to the River Test,

where the gin-clear water flows by. Just for a moment try to imagine that soothing sound.

A small stream diverts into the garden where a visitor sets up an easel for an afternoon of painting.

The garden is sheltered by a wall that runs along the back of the property parallel with the tributary. The lavender is over but the air is filled with the scent.

The wall is home to many a climber and this sweet pea is looking as fresh as it might in the month of June.

Old espaliered pears laden with fruit grow in the border along the path,

and a long rose tunnel runs in a southerly direction from wall to river.

Herbaceous borders are set in the lawn,

angled and shaped they are rich with autumn colour.

Angel’s trumpets, brugmansia dangle over rudbeckia and asters

There are annuals too, and nasturtiums cover the ground.

In the centre of a circular bed amongst the black grass ophiopogon planiscapus ‘Nigrescens’, I spy three ceramic poppies from the Tower of London’s Blood Swept Lands and Seas. That makes eleven poppies I have found on my travels so now where are  the remaining 888,235?

The lawns are extensive and this is the professional mechanical team, cleaned and oiled, which provides that smooth sward.

At the end of the garden the river takes a sweeping bend, this marks the westerly boundary where over to the right is a Trout Farm.

Here too in this peaceful spot is the perfect place for a privy. Neatly bricked and tiled, it is not open today.

This part of the garden with its well established shrubs and trees is about three acres, and before returning to the main lawn in front of the house we turn to the right,

and step over the bridge which spans The Test.

Across the river is an arboretum planted by Harold Hillier in the 1930s; many of the original species remain and have grown to a substantial size. Varieties of ornamental trees include prunus, pyrus and malus planted to provide colour in the spring and liquidambar, acer and fagus for autumn tints. An assortment of shrubs bring interest throughout the summer months.

The warning is not heeded today for it is the entrance to an avenue,

a more recent planting of dawn redwood metasequoia glyptostroboides that lines up with the house on the opposite side of  the water and culminates in the noblest of trees the Wellingtonia, sequoidendron giganteum. The drifts of daffodils must be quite a sight in the Spring.

There are also three ponds over here, one is in need of restoration, whilst water lilies happily grow in another,

and in addition a swamp cypress taxodium distichum graces a small island.

The sound of rushing water can be heard from the weir.

We move along to the gentler water in front of the house where visitors all afternoon have enjoyed this serene and most calming of spaces.

Returning over the wisteria clad bridge you can imagine the reward you might have with rod in hand and the flick of a fly.

We have wandered too long and missed the teas so we admire the gypsy caravan sheltering in the shade of the cedar on the lawn by the house.

The shadows are lenghtening in the evening sun but the colours remain bright and welcoming.

In its sixth year of opening for the NGS this garden contains some lovely features and set in beautiful timeless setting, it is the fishermen’s dream garden. Open for the NGS twice a year, this very private and secluded garden definitely requires a return visit in the Spring.

——-71——-

 

‘I went up to the Great House between 3 and 4, and dawdled away an hour very comfortably’

Wrote Jane Austen in 1814.  She was referring to Chawton House built by the Knight family in 1580 and centuries later inherited by her brother Edward Austen .  So when it opened for the National Garden Scheme on the sunny Bank Holiday Sunday last month, I too went and dawdled away an hour very comfortably.

We were fortunate to be just in time to join a tour with Garden Manager Andrew Bentley and, with map in hand we began on the South Lawn.

Set in the beautiful Hampshire countryside we looked out on the open views across the estate while Andrew explained the popularity of this Brownian English Landscape-style during the 18th century, when the view would have been similar and a ha-ha would have kept the grazing animals in sight but away from the garden.

We returned to the house and onto the Library Terrace. Built during the time of Montagu Knight in the early 19th century it is attributed to  Sir Edwin Lutyens, a friend and frequent visitor.

Andrew has begun to plant a white garden here. Influenced by Vita Sackville-West’s famous white garden at Sissinghurst Castle, he felt it appropriate not just because of its beauty but because her mother had an affair with Lutyens while staying at Chawton.

The inlaid pattern at the top of the steps is reminiscent of the manner of the Arts and Crafts Movement, and acts as a turning circle directing us to the left.

We gradually climb the Serpentine gravel path passing through bushes laden with autumnal berries,

and continuing along the Upper Terrace.

Here we can look back down towards the house which, having fallen into disrepair has been restored and has become a library, the home of a unique collection of women’s literature in English during the period 1600-1830.

‘Edward is very well and enjoys himself as well as any Hampshire born Austen can desire.  He talks of making a new Garden…’

Perhaps it is the Walled Garden to which Jane is referring. Situated at the highest point of the site it has an open area known as the  auditorium which has been converted to a rose garden and contains 48 varieties of heritage roses and two mulberry trees. Right now they are hard to see as the self-seeded verbena bonariensis has taken over.

Decorative wrought-iron gates lead from the auditorium into the Walled Garden.

In the Austen’s day, there were 17 gardeners here. Now there is less manpower available. The Walled Garden is divided into three areas, a productive vegetable area, an orchard and a herb garden.

Twenty six varieties of apple are grown with some of the trees being quite mature.

The Herb Garden was designed by Andrew himself, the exercise being part of his interview for the job which he was offered and took up last year.  He was intrigued by a book kept in the Chawton House Library, A Curious Herbal by Elizabeth Blackwell which was published in instalments from 1737-1739, when Blackwell was able to support herself and free her husband from debtors’ prison.

The design consists of four beds divided by concentric circular paths with a seat placed in the central lawn.  The quadrants relate to the herbs that cure maladies to the head, chest, skin and digestion.

With the promise that so many herbs are readily available to cure one’s afflictions we can share in the radiancy of the sunflower overlooking the herbs. Andrew then displays his botanical knowledge by giving us a quick lesson on ‘fasciation’ which has occurred on one of the other heads of sunflower (which may drive the reader to the search engine).

The princely sum of £190,000 is needed to restore the former greenhouse which once stood here, the ivy hides the chimney of the boiler house.  Over the wall is the gardener’s cottage, occupied until 75 years ago it now no longer houses any gardener.

Edging the central path are the delicate blooms of the rose ‘Pride and Prejudice’ bred by Harkness Roses to celebrate 200 years of the novel published in 1813. Andrew was able to pick a small bouquet on 18th July this year and lay it on Jane’s gravestone in Winchester Cathedral to commemorate the bicentenary of her death.

The Walled Garden took four years to build and sadly Jane did not see its completion. The stone acorns are unusual; less grand than some finials of that era, Andrew suggests that they may just be Edward Austen’s nod to humility.

Opposite the Walled Garden a path leads into the ‘Wilderness’ which we do not take, and  unlike Mrs Bertram in Mansfield Park who declared ‘One likes to get out into a shrubbery in fine weather’, we also pass by the shrubbery.

Instead we arrive at the garden’s perimeter where the peaceful parkland has been recently grazed by sheep. It is managed with the help of Natural England and looks perhaps like any other grassland. However, Andrew explains that it is essential to ensure that the correct species of grasses and wild thyme are maintained which support a population of red ants. The Large Blue butterflies feed off the wild thyme where they lay their eggs. The red ants make tussocks in the grass in which they bury the hatched larvae of the Large Blue butterfly and harvest their nectar. In May/June the butterflies hatch out all at once and there is an explosion of fluttering blue butterflies. It is a sight that Andrew has been fortunate to see.

It indeed must be quite a sight and I can only provide a picture taken from the Butterfly Conservation website: http://butterfly-conservation.org/679-899/large-blue.html.

We move on to wander back through the ‘wilderness’ and return to the house along the avenue of Lime trees leading onto the South lawn. Standing just off the lawn is a Black Walnut juglans nigra; not to be confused with the common walnut juglans regia, it is native to North America. The roots contain a growth-inhibiting chemical which prevents many other trees and plants growing near it.

Just to the right is the tower of the parish church which rises above the yew trees in the churchyard,

where the graves of Jane’s mother and sister lie together.

But before leaving I pop back to the house for a little sustenance,

and sharing in that same sentiment as Jane ‘But indeed, I would rather have nothing but tea’, I sit and enjoy it in the sunny courtyard.

A shepherd’s hut, unimpeded by notices of ticket sales, upcoming events or ice cream adverts, stands simply at the entrance as a reminder that this was once a working farm.

It is a charmingly unspoilt site. Garden history, botany and ecology have been woven into this delightful and informative tour. The garden is open again for the NGS on Sunday 22nd October and I assure you that the garden tour costing just £1.00 is worth every penny.

——-70——-

Opening this coming Sunday, the 10th September is an engaging cottage garden situated in the village of Stebbing in Essex. I was fortunate to be able to visit a few weeks ago and you reach the property down a short narrow lane off the main road.  The driveway itself is very much part of the garden and a ‘Narnian’  lamp post stands  prominently,

and amongst pots of flowers a good old-fashioned petrol pump is on hand.

Looking down on the drive from the steep bank and are two stained glass windows, and a pond encircled by pots of hosta.

It is the sound of water I can hear, but not from this pond, so I head for the opening in the hedge just to the right of the house.

The sound is coming from water trickling down copper leaves into a lily pond. Inspired by the Willow Tree Fountain at Chatsworth this version is made by garden owner Pete.

The lawn slopes gently down past a border packed with colour, and a newly-built greenhouse can be seen waiting for some autumnal activity.

In the flower bed some more permanent ornamental flowers add a rustic charm.

A path leads down to the bottom of the garden, where it is wild, wooded and a touch wet.

Stepping carefully around the bog garden,we find a circular wind chime hanging silently from the trees above.

I move  along a brick path ‘Tiggywinkle-edged’ with old fashioned flat-irons,

and an assortment of gardening tools curiously growing out of the soil.

A low wall is the ultimate in recycling; the fun, you understand, was not just in the making.

Climbing up the hill through the small Silver Birch copse I discover that the sheet glass from the old greenhouse has also been reprocessed and is now an impressive ornament.

From here you can look back down on the  ‘Roman’ temple and for a moment I feel as if this is an 18th century landscape.

Further up the hill, for this ground is certainly not flat, is the beach garden decked with its own hut, and chairs just waiting for those sunbathers; it is a delightful space even if a little shaded now from the maturing trees.

The transition into different areas is subtle and at every step there is either a sculpture, or a surprise, even a view, like this one through a decorative arbor.

This windfall seems to have rolled down from the top orchard and come to rest in the flowerbed.

From a height behind the house we can look down on the drive where the flag flutters gently in the evening breeze. When the grandchildren come the Australian flag is hoisted to make them feel at home.

The archway through the hedge of hornbeam beckons us on,

and here I find a charming little cottage, once the place where the beekeeper stored his harvested honey.

We walk on through the orchard, mindful of giant apples,

and really high up in the branches is a tree house.

 

The second greenhouse, shrouded by shrubs, marks the top of the garden.

From the orchard I look down on another area of water,  calming and wild I realise that it is a natural swimming pool.

and, finding the gate I enter the pool side.

Beautiful and inviting in the evening light. No chemicals are needed here, for the reeds along the sides are the filter system.

The changing room hut is as welcoming as the pool, but I have no swimsuit and so follow the path which leads back down to the drive.

This time I go to the left of the house, passed a benign dragon delicately dribbling water.

The bank rises steeply behind the house and provides a back drop containing a variety of shrubs to a raised bricked bed. A ghostly head peers out from the foliage.

It is indeed the head gardener keeping his wits about him.

The terrace extends the house into the garden, and is decorated with pots packed with agapanthus, eucomis, geraniums and begonias; it is an attractive place to sit and soak in the splendour of the one and a half acre garden. The owners have worked hard to create such a splendid garden filled with a variety of flowers, shrubs and trees. The diverse areas contain sculpture, ornament and outbuildings and most of all there is a touch of humour.

Finally, just visible under a “kiftsgate” rose is a 1933 Lagonda ready to roll out on a mystery journey.

——-69——-

 

 

You may have been watching the programme ‘ All Gardens Great and Small’ on Channel 4More, in which Miranda Hart and her real mother Dee Hart-Dyke visit some NGS gardens up and down the country. Dee’s garden in Hampshire was open last Monday so for a Bank Holiday treat I went to visit.

The weather was glorious and we arrived in good time for the opening but the garden gate remained firmly closed until 2pm.

Entering from the street through a little side door in the wall we find ourselves in the driveway where pure white Japanese anemones greeted us under what Dee might describe as ‘rampant’ wisteria.

I happened to meet Dee while she was filming in two of the gardens in London (blogs 34 & 35), in fact she even interviewed me. Fun as it was I have to report that my nano second of an appearance on a television series has ended up on the cutting-room floor. However I was thrilled that through the throng of visitors and surrounded by giggling grandchildren she recognised me and I was even more delighted to discover that she is an ardent follower of this blog.

It looked as if it was going to be a busy afternoon with visitors pouring in, so we pressed on through a small enclosed area of lawn where tables and chairs were set out ready to provide tea and cake to the already swarming numbers, and we hurried on through the archway in the wall.

A picture of colour and the feel of an English country garden draws us through the arch and round the side of the house.

Amongst the plentiful perennials and shrubs I spy a little clump of the dainty autumn snowflake acis autumnalis, looking perhaps a little premature on this hot summer’s day.

On the south side in front of the house, the lawn stretches ahead and rises up hill;  in the centre are two sets of brick steps. We stay on the grass and follow the border along the west side where we can look across to mixed flower beds on the other side.

The  border, backed by a wall that runs along the road, is packed with a variety of shrubs which give interest throughout the year; the slightly unusual heptacodium miconioides, is performing for us today.

At the top of the lawn a narrow path winds around the back of bushes and the small starry eyes of aster divaricatus spread over the brick weave, a good plant for the shade.

Overhead the leaves of the paulownia tomentosa loom large and verdant against the bright sun.

A quiet place to pause in the shade, this bench today will not remain unoccupied for long.

The garden covers about three acres in size and is divided into a variety of areas.  A fine specimen of Cornus controversa ‘Variegata’, the wedding cake tree marks the beginning of the central area,

an orchard where paths are mown through the long grass under trees both young and old.

Through the branches of a Judas tree, cercis siliquastrum we can see the swimming pool; today visitors are content to sit and imagine they have dipped in the cool water.

Beyond the pool the gate is open into the recently cut field.

It is quite a vista over neighbouring roof tops towards the church. We explored the village this morning and it is really attractive with some beautiful houses.

This garden certainly is not flat; a stairway descends to the lower level and you can glide down in Hollywood style through the mature shrubs.

Tucked away at the bottom of the garden, is the perfect artist’s studio.

Returning now towards the house we pass a  white clematis backed by wooden trellis which leads us to the kitchen garden.

Divided into four with an elegant vase at its centre, it is not only productive with vegetables, fruit and flowers,

but also has a strip of  wildflowers along its edge.

.

I am reminded that the old galvanised steel tub is so much more visually pleasing than the hard plastic water butts we have become accustomed to nowadays.

We slip through the yew hedge, a view we recognise from Dee’s television programme where she is filmed wheeling her barrow through the gap.  Back on the tea lawn we find the tea queue has quadrupled in length.  

So, passing again by the side of the house we turn left up the steps, through a heady collection of salvia, grasses, roses and rosemary,

and walk through the curiously wonky yew arch,

and follow the brick weave path amongst borders spilling over with late summer colour.

A handsome bush of Clerodendron fargesii is enjoying the sun and some visitors are intrigued to discover its identity.

Colour combinations combine with texture and form to make a pretty garden.  We have enjoyed our visit in this very private place, planted for pleasure, and enjoyed by a family, it has evolved through time, and is the very essence of an NGS garden opening for just one afternoon.

Last night we stayed with friends nearby and on leaving this morning it was apparent that although they had heard of the NGS, they had no idea of the scale of funds raised. It was not the time to run through the beneficiaries, so I will take this opportunity to remind you where the money goes:

You may have missed the opening this year but you can watch Miranda and Mum on Monday evening at 9pm on Channel 4More where you will see glimpses of this garden and discover the fun of visiting gardens.

——68——-

Last Saturday evening on our way to London driving down the A1 M, at the very sociable time of between 5-8pm we found the gate open…

at Beechleigh, in Birch Green, Hertfordshire. We walked down the long drive running alongside a field, where a footpath crosses over and the grass has recently been cut, and found the property, which was originally a gamekeeper’s cottage on a former country estate.

Evening openings are fun; held in lovely surroundings it is rather like a drinks party, but without the people you so desperately want to avoid.

There is no defined boundary between field and garden, mature trees, newly planted grass beds and pond, merge naturally together.

And we find ourselves amongst colourful beds which flow around the house in the neatly mown lawn.

The garden is owned by Jacky and Gary and was designed a couple of years ago by London-based Daniel Shea (http://www.danielshea.co.uk/about); his brief was to create a contemporary design whilst also keeping within traditional influences.

This circular shape of this eye-catching border complements the moon shape sculpture.

Visitors are asking about the colour of the water, it has a little black dye put in which keeps the water weed free and is also environmentally friendly. Around the little waterfall is a soft palette of ferns, sedum and Mexican feather grass, stipa tenuissima with knotweed persicaria and blood grass imperata cylindrica providing touches of red.

Although the good thick hedge does not quite hide the sound of the traffic from the A414 it is a calming and secluded garden. Three stones on the lawn link the pond area to a traditional herbaceous border,

which is packed with dahlias, sedum and roses, the edges kept clean by plate steel edging.

This is a garden designed for outdoor living. The modern kitchen extension with bifold doors on two sides opens seamlessly onto bleached Balau decking.

Alongside is a what is described as 13m reflective pond, and I am puzzled why  this canal-like feature it is not called a rill. Edged with brick, the flowing water here is very dark. On the far side a long border is effective with a naturalistic style of planting; lavender, purple salvia, sedum, echinacea and calamagrostis x acutiflora ‘Karl Foerster’ is repeated throughout.

There are comfortable and hospitable places to sit on the patio

around the nearby fire pit which is gently smoking in the fading evening light.

There is a Lutyens bench tucked against the wall,

from where you can look back through calamagrostis, over the rill and decking to the kitchen.

This side of the herbaceous border is paved with York stone and edged with reclaimed bricks.

A door in the wall clothed with a montana clematis opens into the allotment area and the brick path invites us in.

Vegetables grow on one side of the path and on the other is a wild flower meadow that even in August is still dotted with colour.

A decoratively-filled wheel barrow,  cheers up a gravelled corner in the yard.

Back by the house the steel heron stands and watches the water from the end of the rill just where a solid oak pergola has weathered to silvery grey.

On the North East side of the house acers are amongst the shrubs that fill the island border.

An ornamental well brings an olde world charm.

Mature trees on the North side of the house are underplanted with beds which display a variety and interest. The light is fading fast

and we return along the decking.

where Betsie and Evie, mum and daughter are helping to count the evening’s takings.

It is time to go, the sun is setting and my camera is flashing.

A last look at the deer standing in the long grass; they were recently acquired at Chelsea.

Beechleigh is not vast but a well-designed garden with plenty of interesting areas combined with effective planting, It is a garden to be enjoyed, for entertaining and relaxing.

So inspired by the plan of her own garden Jacky has completed a course in garden design and has now runs her own consultancy: jacky@jackyodesign.co.uk

The garden gate will be open again TODAY from12 noon -5pm and if you just find yourself on the A1M, I suggest you take a short detour and see for yourself. Gary and Jacky will welcome you and there will be delicious home-made teas.

——67——-

 

5 Brodie Road, a suburban garden measuring 12m x 9m (40′ x 60′) must qualify as the smallest garden I have visited so far, but by no means the least floriferous. Situated in Chingford it was the second opening this year and I peered from the pavement through the white Japanese anemones in the front garden,

to find bright hanging baskets, a hint to what lay behind this semi-detached house where on the left-side Norman greeted us and the garden gate was open…

Passing by the tables and chairs ready to receive those fancying a cuppa, we find a collection of pots lining the fence, pink oleander,

exotic eucomis known as the pineapple flower,

and that old favourite the fresh white rosa Iceberg.

Opposite are succulents arranged on a decorative shelving unit.

Throughout the garden there is a variety of containers,  hanging baskets where geraniums grow,

begonias in chimney pots,

and small alpines occupy the seat of a chair.

 

 

 

 

 

Barbara and Norman love flowers and colour and for that reason Norman dug up the lawn. Now we feast our eyes on a spectacle of colour that fills the garden.

Plants are packed in, no room for a weed.

There are dahlias to die for:

On the same plant are white blooms, pink blooms and some blooms which cannot make up their minds.

Bright Dahlia ‘Pooh’ is just buzzing.

I think this could be Dahlia ‘chimborazo’, and is that a princely face appearing below?

 At the bottom of the garden angled into the corner is an arbor where visitors are tempted to sit for a while.

Just to the side is an abutilon megapotamicum ‘Pink Charm’; a fellow visitor describes them as  ‘fairy hats’.

and hidden behind the foliage of jasmine, clematis and miscanthus is a mirror where I just catch sight of something familiar.

From the seat looking back to the house is an arch over which climb the golden yellow cupped heads of Rosa Graham Thomas; it is easy to understand why it was voted the world’s most popular rose.

Through the arch the view towards the house is filled with foliage and flowers.

and in just a few steps I am up by the house and looking back. It is hard to believe this was once a lawn.

We enjoy a slice of cake served through the kitchen door. Barbara has made coffee and walnut, a combination hard to beat. Please don’t tell my niece she has already commented on the fact that my blogs contain too much cake!

——-66——-

 

Having written about the development of an allotment in my last blog, I quite by chance discovered that last Sunday was also the final day of National Allotment Week.   What better way to participate than to call in on the Marsh Lane Allotments in Tottenham on our drive down to London where plot 94 was open for the NGS. I would also like to dedicate this blog to my good friend Claire, an experienced allotment holder of many years who lives in Suffolk and whose birthday it is today.

There was just enough room to park our car in the bay near the gates where we stepped over a huge pile of rubbish that had gathered on the pavement, before walking through the metal gates.

Two charming girls collecting the money on the gate directed us through the maze of allotments, nearly a hundred here, to the plot occupied by Chris. Notices advised us that we were welcome to walk around the site and look at the other plots but we were not to enter unless invited. We headed straight on, passing rows and rows of vegetables,  and a jumble of huts turning right at the green one marked with red arrows, and then made a beeline for the yellow balloons in the narrow distance.

Under the foliage of the spring flowered akebia quinata we found the allotment gate was open…

Inside the entrance, shaded by a confusion of climbers, a summer jasmine still in flower grows over an archway,

and a plum tree, laden with fruit.

The narrow shingle path draws us further in and we walk between, not rows of vegetables but well established shrubs and perennials packed in on either side;

colouring acer leaves combine with ripening pears, hanging so temptingly,

and a little further on a display of red-tinged miscanthus grass.

Chris originally occupied one of the other allotments but moved to this one seven years ago because he wanted the wall that runs along the side. The ground was in a terrible state; he cleared the grass and bindweed. Next door the evangenical church was consumed by the bus company who made their presence felt by raising the ground level of the station by some eight feet.

The centre piece of the allotment is not a bus but a rusting and elegant gazebo reaching up into a canopy of fig trees.

On one side is a decorative panel through which we can see a mature fig, once a cutting taken from Chris’s mother’s tree.

The existence of London transport does not take away from the fact that this is an allotment full of fruit; an unusual weeping mulberry has already shed its fruit.

and the apples are ripening, green and red.

High up are the noble fruits of quince,

and the persimmon are yet to turn golden.

Flowers mingle with fruit and the pink petals of a clematis dance out from amongst the apples,

there is an explosion of pink loosestrife lythrum,

and an intriguing coloured hydrangea.

An allotment here costs about £150 a year to rent, and the size is measured in poles; a pole is the equivalent to roughly 5 metres. A full plot like this is ten poles. Through tubs of amaranthus the little ceramic figure hugging its knees signifies we have reached the full ten,

and along the back fence is a thick hedge of ripening thornless blackberries which marks the boundary.

Looking back are pots of colourful climbing annuals; on one side is the exotic rhodochiton from Mexico,

and on the other is the Brazilian ipomoea lobata or mina lobata, with its cascading flowers, scarlet at the tip and fading to cream.

As we return, the air is filled with the scent of lavender and we encounter a collection of pots which include such favourites as ceratostigma,

and a chinese red fern.

By the shed the solanum has flowered and is displaying an abundance of inedible fruit,

whilst delicious bunches of grapes hang down through which the view is leafy and exotic. It is a calming space and hard to believe we are in Tottenham, once a scene of riots and unrest.

The onions drying will have come from a neighbouring allotment holder; they are a friendly community here and we head off to find teas and sample the cake made by Chris’s sister.

Teas are served right over on the other side of the allotments beyond where a rich red canna flowers colourfully. The table and chairs are recycled from the cafe across the road,

Rules about sizes of sheds seemed to be ignored here and this sizeable lean-to shed provides a little cover today.

No electricity means a little improvisation, and this Turkish burner is hot water back-up.

We find honey for sale too, the hives are kept across the highway beneath a huge pylon on the ground that was once marshland.

To end our afternoon Jane, an embroiderer shows us her nearby allotment where on a table she has an assortment of jars containing a collection of natural dyes with which she colours her materials.

This has been an insight into a community bound together by horticulture and hard work. 30% of the allotment holders are of Turkish origin but there is also a vibrant Jamaican fraternity. These guys proudly explain the merits of calaloo, a type of spinach which they grow. It can be a struggle to compete with the mares tail, a persistent weed and a reminder that this area was once marshland.

It has been a fascinating and memorable experience. We have learned much about the culture and cultivation of allotments. A lesson too in recycling. We have been entertained in this productive place and coming away with a smile we also bear gifts of courgettes and apples.

 

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You may have heard a short piece on the Today programme on Radio 4 last week about the inaugural ‘Gardens and Health week’, an initiative generated by some garden owners of the National Garden Scheme, who wanted to not just open their gardens and raise funds for the nursing charities that the scheme supports but also to become involved in finding ways to utilise gardens to benefit health.

A few years ago the NGS commissioned the King’s Fund, the think tank on medical matters, to research the benefits to health of spending time in a garden. The 65 page report makes interesting reading which you can find here:

https://dir4cjhjw0hsi.cloudfront.net/app/uploads/2017/02/Kings-Fund-Report.pdf.

However, if you missed the Today programme and with the summer holidays upon us you may find it easier to simply click on this link: @BBCr4today and moving the slider to the 1hr43 mark you will hear how gardens have helped a variety of people.

I too wanted to be involved in Gardens and Health week and offered the garden to the West Norfolk Branch of the National Autistic Society, who I had recently discovered. A delightful group of volunteers steered by mums Karan and Rachel, and having carried out the all essential risk assessments cunningly completed on a mobile phone, they decided to celebrate their first decade in our garden:

The day  was gloriously sunny and over 100 members of the Branch came from all over West Norfolk plus some local visitors. Families picnicked on the lawn,

played games

and simply relaxed in the garden.

The Mayor of King’s Lynn and her consort came too, displaying not just her smart chains of office but a genuine interest and so totally delighted to be part of this special day.

The Branch had applied and received a grant from the NGS enabling them to acquire an allotment in West Lynn. I was interested to see what they were doing, so paid a visit to the plot where I found Rachel with her autistic and delightful son Harvey.

The allotment gate was open:

The ground had not been worked for some six years and the first job was to make a secure environment by putting up a fence. The rules allow up to 6′ and must be transparent for inspection purposes (rule 10.3). From this livestock fencing the Branch have proudly displayed their banner for all to see who exactly they are.

Incidentally, the allotment rules, all 17 pages can be downloaded : https://www.west-norfolk.gov.uk/downloads/file/3065/allotment_rules_2017, and for some might be a good holiday read.

It is perhaps interesting to find in this lengthy document no mention of a reduction in fees for charities. I can’t help thinking this enthusiastic group of volunteers are actually doing the council a service and their rent should really be a mere peppercorn.

The next purchase was the all important shed. The rules restrict the size which meant that they were unable to accept the free shed they were offered, so an alternative was purchased. We were grateful for it today as the clouds burst and three of us were able to keep dry.

Then came the hard work. Rachel and friend began to dig and by the looks of the clods heaped on the side it must have been heavy going. The ground suffers from getting sodden so they cleverly dug a run-off channel. Taking on this allotment in May, the requirement from the council was to have cultivated at least 60% of the plot in the first three months (rule 6.1.8). No pressure! However they seem to be already reaping the fruits of their labours.

Raised beds have been built and are waiting to be filled.

The compost bins are ready to put in position but it is not all about growing; a small percentage of the area can be for recreation and this corner is destined to be a play area.

The fruit cage, the correct size (rule 9.2) is a little empty as yet but I now know where I can put my surplus currant bushes.  The council supplies and delivers an endless supply of wood chips for the paths. There are plans for a greenhouse which has to be fitted out with toughened glass.

This is a huge task and I am in awe at what has been done.  As Rudyard Kipling said ‘Gardens are not made by singing ‘Oh, how beautiful,’ and sitting in the shade.’ This allotment is a great project and I am glad the NGS has gone some way to assist.

There is also another keen supporter and that is young Jamie Lefever who aged 11 years old plans to set off from the allotment next Thursday to cycle to the National Autistic Society’s head office in London arriving the following day. He has taken up the challenge to thank the wonderful volunteers at the Branch for helping his sister who suffers from autism.

Anyone wanting to nourish his enthusiasm and wish him well might like to visit: https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/jl-wnnas.

 

 

I am delighted to see his bike is that familiar yellow.  Of course if he should need it, we have a spare one here…

 

 

 

 

 

——-oOo——-

The Garden Gate was open at Cobbs Hall, Great Saxham last Sunday (13th August). Situated some 4 miles West of Bury St. Edmunds I was amongst an astonishing 670 other NGS visitors.

Butterflies danced above the late summer borders vibrant with colour. This golden Dahlia nestled between artichokes,

and orange helenium gloried in the August sun.

I was accompanied by my writer friend who lives near Newmarket; very much a non gardener she was glad to find a comfortable spot in the shade where she could sit in peace.

We  sat together for some time taking in the splendour of the afternoon and ‘people watching’  as visitors enjoyed the garden.

The garden is surrounded by a wall, a fortification against the increasing population of deer. Close to our seat a secret paved area, shaded by trees and hedge, the ferns, moss and ivy contribute to a air of quiet contemplation.

The gates in the wall open wide to allow a view of the harvested farmland beyond.

The centre of the garden is dominated by a series of ponds, where a boat lies hidden in the weeping willows.

On this side the water cascades over small rocks which brings much pleasure to the owner’s little grandson who plays with his toys in the gentle flow.

A smooth head of stone surveys the scene from his pedestal.

The wall is not actually built on the perimeter but set back a little away allowing for the garden to seemingly overflow. The doorway invites us to take a look.

A folly contains the redundant bore-hole pump that used to raise the water from 70m below the ground.

I listen to visitors exclaim, charmed by this little girl tucked in a recess by the gothic doorway.

The dappled light on the shades of green is exquisite this afternoon.

there is an occasional flush of colour and this fuchsia is  planted in an old tree stump.

Across the pond, it is a picture of people pausing by the water’s edge.

Reflective and calming the water is clear.

In a previous garden I spent sometime trying to avoid an ugly tennis court, which every time I pointed the lens would appear in the picture. Here the tennis court is virtually unseen, surrounded by mature planting,

it is a delight, one of those rare grass courts, where people want to kick of their shoes and play a game.

The shaded path leads back to the house, a touch of what you might call shabby chic in a horticultural sense,

a complete contrast to the parterre in front of the house.

Before taking tea we visit the kitchen garden where a pear trained against the wall, is laden with fruit,

and onions, in their straight lines grow down on the central bed,

whilst runner beans reach for the sky.

There is plenty of produce here, the corn-on-the-cob ripening in the sun.

Just outside the walls of the kitchen garden is a mulberry, its fruit in various stages of ripening.

The neat greenhouse sits comfortably not far from the back door,

it too is abundant with fruit.

The climb up to the tree house is indeed steep; definitely made for small children, I felt like Alice, completely oversized.

It is time for tea which is busily served from the kitchen courtyard,

and it is a joy to sit and relax.  I wonder just how often we find the time to sit in our own gardens. We chat for far too long and realise that most of the visitors have all gone now. The garden is beginning to breathe a sigh of relief in the evening light.

Cobbs Hall has been open for the NGS for over a decade raising thousands of pounds for the nursing charities the scheme supports. The owners now in their seventies feel it is time to downsize and so now at the end of the lawn the garden gate has been closed for the very last time.

——-64——-