We must cultivate our garden

We must cultivate our garden

Voltaire 
 

One of the joys of a new garden is discovering its secrets as the seasons roll. I had thought that having removed the scruffier shrubs from the garden in Dorset there would be nothing much left. Each time I venture there, though, I find that something new has pushed its way up into the light.

There will soon be sturdy trellis to support a new generation of climbers

 

During the spring there have been a few daffodils and a couple of narcissi. Some Scilla with bright blue starry faces, almost too fragile to survive, were scattered about. I collected them up and put them in a little drift by the sunny wall. Small clumps of primroses and some cyclamen clung to corners near bits of stone, and Spanish bluebells still hold their foliage green and upright. Some wispy green blades sent up a flower of pale blue Iris sibirica; I shall keep my eye on it and, when the time is right, divide it, to give it a new lease of life. A little bundle of twigs has revealed itself to be a hardy fuchsia, and the leaves of Japanese anemone, and garden loosestrife give away the identity of the plants. Ferns have unfurled and I find them a place at the base of the walls. A herbaceous clematis has sent up foot-high shoots, some of which have been chewed by a hungry animal – probably a pigeon – and soon the flower buds will show their colours and I shall know its variety. Whenever I identify something, I put a little wooden label by it and write its name in a notebook for future reference.

Delicate new leaves and flowers on the Acer

The climbers on the walls are in full leaf and the hydrangea petiolaris has emerging flowers. Now I can see which wood is dead and which is alive, but bringing the roses, vine and honeysuckle back to healthy freedom will take a couple of seasons, I think. Some spindly branches put out leaves tipped in white and pink and now there are little clusters of white flowers: this is Actinidia kolomikta, a relative of the kiwi fruit. The Clematis cirrhosa is showing signs of new growth and seems to like its new home.

There is an unwelcome discovery as well. A short, fat slug hides under a stone and I can tell just by looking at it that it has a big appetite. A walled garden is heaven for slugs, but to my mind they are not heavenly creatures. I don't have bad feelings towards them in general, they just aren't welcome in my garden. Time for another dose of nematodes!