Author Archives: Abbie Jury

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About Abbie Jury

jury.co.nz Tikorangi The Jury Garden Taranaki NZ

More ‘invisible gardening’.

Green waste is removed by the wool bale full – too much for my wheelbarrow .

I coined the description of ‘invisible gardening’ in recent times. It describes when I spend many hours, often days, working through every square metre of a section of garden with meticulous care, removing huge amounts of foliage and debris. All the while, I know that the only people who will notice are the four of us here because, after all that, it just looks tidier. No dramatic changes.

I didn’t think to take a before photo of this stretch but this is the after shot. It doesn’t look as though it has had two wool bales of green waste removed.

I am invisible gardening my way along the lower borders of the Avenue Gardens where it meets the park and the waste is coming out in packed wool bales to be composted elsewhere. So far, I am up to five full bales. I figured it is a reasonably high level gardening skill to pick over an area and remove that volume without making the place look denuded.

By the time I was onto the next path, Ralph and I remember the camera. This is BEFORE ….
… and AFTER another very full two bales of green waste was removed

I was trying to remember when I last gave this area the same level of close attention. It will be three to four years ago. In the interim, it has had the once over lightly treatment once or twice a year- a bit of weeding and removal of fallen debris and spent foliage, but nothing detailed. We don’t apply fertiliser; natural mulch provides nutrition. And we will only spot-spray if there is a problem that has got away on us. We never need to water.

BEFORE…
and AFTER. Spot the difference. It is a bit subtle, but believe me, a lot has been removed in the clean-up.

It started me thinking how long a garden lasts if you ignore it or just give it the occasional once-over-lightly attention. These are woodland gardens under a canopy that is largely evergreen, which slows growth and restricts weed germination. I came to the conclusion that after about three years, the area loses its definition. This is because plants are no longer standing in their own spaces but have melded together, enmeshed, so to speak. After about four years, the detail starts to go. We like highly detailed gardens – many different plants in varying combinations and a good representation of treasures. By four years, the thugs are taking over (I have removed A LOT of clivia seedlings) and the daintier plants have been squeezed out or swamped. From there, it is all downhill.

Halve the time estimates for sunny gardens. In those conditions, plants grow faster and the weed explosion can be exponential.

I am of the opinion that low maintenance and good gardening are mutually exclusive concepts. You can have one but probably not the other. If you want a lower maintenance garden, stick to shrubs and swathes of the same plant. We want detail and complexity and we live with the resulting maintenance demands. Besides, a couple of weeks every three years or so doesn’t seem oppressively high maintenance.

The meadow in late spring

For readers who have followed our experiments in sustainably managing the park as a meadow, Lloyd mowed it all down this last week in June. The areas too steep to mow, he cuts with the weed-eater or strimmer. The timing is important because the bluebells and narcissi are all coming through. We will mow again in late January. With our high fertility and rainfall, we have to cut it right down twice a year. Grass grows every week of the year here, just a bit slower in winter. If we didn’t mow as we do, we would soon lose all the bulbs, the irises and other perennial meadow plants.

An FCC, no less.

It is not every day that we hear the news that a Jury plant has been awarded an FCC – First Class Certificate – from the prestigious Royal Horticultural Society in the UK. In fact, it has never happened before. I remember, back in the days of writing plant descriptions for our catalogue, coming across the occasional FCC and being aware that it was prestigious but I had to seek clarification on the difference between an FCC and AGM (an award of garden merit, not to be confused with an annual general meeting). We have few Jury plants with AGMs, but not many.

Camellia ‘Mimosa Jury’

First class certificates are like the pinnacle of quality assessment – an award that is attached to that plant forever. Awards of garden merit can be bestowed and then, on occasion, taken away, being a recommendation by the RHS of top quality cultivars that perform well as garden plants in most situations. FCCs are quite a step above that.

It is Felix’s plant, not Mark’s, that has been honoured. Camellia ‘Mimosa Jury’ was named for his wife so we know both Felix and Mimosa rated it very highly. I see we first released it in 1989, some four years after Mimosa died. From our modest little nursery (very modest back then), it was distributed by others throughout the camellia world.

It is an exceptionally beautiful flower in the form that Felix particularly liked – described as ‘formal’ in form – in the prettiest shade of pink. It is not a big bloom like the highly rated ‘Desire’ or even ‘Queen Diana’ back in the day, but that makes it a better garden plant. And the FCC award recognises the merit of the overall plant, not a single show bloom.

Camellia ‘Mimosa Jury’, now recognised as one of the best but, sadly, no longer in our conditions

Sadly, camellia petal blight has robbed us of the once beautiful display in our conditions. None of the japonica, reticulata or hybrid camellias have escaped the scourge of petal blight which is particularly bad in our mild, humid climate. We haven’t planted a new camellia from those vulnerable groups in many years. Camellia petal blight has spread throughout the world; I am told it has now arrived in Australia which had managed to stay free from it for a long time. But it is not as devastating in other places, especially those with colder winters, lower rainfall and less humidity. Camellias in other places still perform and mass bloom in the manner we have not seen here for decades now.

It seems Camellia ‘Mimosa Jury’ is performing so well in the UK that it stands head and shoulders above most other camellias. Felix died 28 years ago but we will bask in the reflected glory on his behalf.

I don’t have many photos of Mark’s mother, Mimosa, from later in life. She died before the advent of digital cameras and existing photos are mostly studio shots from her younger days. Here she is, sitting in front of the house with early blooms of Magnolia ‘Atlas’, in the early 1980s.

Mānawatia a Matariki

Happy Māori New Year

We refer to this seedling as Hazel’s magnolia

Usually I mark the time of the winter solstice and Matariki – the Māori New Year – with a photograph of the first blooms of the season on our pink Magnolia campbellii, set against our maunga (Mount Taranaki), with or without snow. The snow came in sufficient quantity last week for the low altitude ski field to open for a day or two. This week, that snow has melted away, all but a smidgeon on the peak. Such is the situation with a mountain set right on the coast.

This year, I am marking it with a seedling from Mark’s breeding programme that we refer to as ‘Hazel’s magnolia’. Several years ago, when Mark was asked to do the casket flowers for an old friend’s mother, he constructed his arrangement with the flowers of this magnolia. Her name was Hazel. In a world hurtling at breakneck speed towards one disaster after another, marked by cruelty and inhumanity, the memory of Hazel seems especially poignant. Hazel was a gem in life – one of the kindest people you could ever meet, gentle, welcoming and with natural grace.

Remembering Hazel

It gives us considerable pleasure to remember Hazel each year with this magnolia. It is a one-off plant; we won’t officially name it or release it. It flowers too early in the season for commercial release and is not sufficiently distinctive to make the cut of the very few we name but that in no way diminishes our pleasure in the blooming each year around Matariki and the winter solstice.

It seems a vain hope that the start of a new year in Aotearoa will bring optimism, hope and a return to kinder, more compassionate times. Hazel’s magnolia is a reminder for us that these qualities are possible at an individual, personal level. May you have your own personal markers of hope for the year to come and the future beyond.

A postscript – or maybe an update –  to my last two posts on digging ‘n dividing and bluebells.

I photographed this patch of asters trimmed to the ground because I thought it was a good example of when not to let sleeping asters lie. Digital photography is very handy for dating things and I see it is only three years since these were last dug and divided. It had become a seamless carpet of aster in the time since. Both Zach and I noted that it did not look as good as it should have last summer. They weren’t helped by getting hit by mildew which has not happened before, but there was no mass flowering.

It should have looked like this last summer, but it didn’t. This is from summer 2024.

Time for a dig and divide, which Zach did this week. A perennial that has to be lifted and split every two to three years is on the high maintenance side and we don’t have many in that category. My friend, Sue, who leads the team of volunteers at the pretty Te Henui cemetery, told me she is culling plants that are too high in maintenance for their labour resources and this aster might fit that category. I must ask her for her latest list of culls. Fortunately I have Zach to carry out such tasks or I might be casting around for a less demanding plant option.

Enter the rabbits. After a quiet few months on the rabbit front, they are back and there is nothing they like more than an area of soft, freshly dug garden and mulch to dig. I sent Zach a text yesterday telling him that the rabbits were undoing his work. He was equally unimpressed but at least the photo shows you the size of division he split off from the previous carpet to replant.

I have just replanted the casualties, filled in the holes and spread blood and bone. The rabbits don’t like blood and bone and will stay away from that area but it does need to be replenished after rain and we have had plenty of that this week.

A whole lot of bluebell bulbs, just from the Iolanthe garden. There were more. I have already disposed of some.

The war on bluebells continues and I am at an advanced stage of boredom. I took this photograph as proof that I am not exaggerating. This is by no means all of the bulbs I have dug out of just the Iolanthe garden. Most were never planted there but I will have spread a few when I planted that area in 2019. Some have already been disposed of and still there are more to be dug.

They did not dehydrate in the summer sun. They grew instead.

Bluebells have no place in the cultivated garden. I found a couple of photos from last year, recording our attempts to deal with some culled from the Avenue Gardens. I worried about how many we were dumping on our wild margins and they don’t rot down in the compost. I had the idea that if we spread them thinly on weedmat, they would dehydrate and die in the summer sun. They didn’t. They kept growing. I then thought they might compost in plastic bags in the sun, as wandering tradescantia does. Some did over the summer months but others in those bags were still firm and viable. Responsible disposal is quite a big problem.

Nor did they rot down in the plastic bags, as I hoped.

We have a lot of bluebells in the park and the Wild North Garden and they can stay there. To get rid of them, we would have to go for repeated use of some heavy-duty sprays and we try and avoid that. Besides, they are very pretty in spring. Ours are all Spanish bluebells or hybrids; the more desirable English bluebells are extremely scarce in this country. I don’t think I have ever seen them.

“If they stank like onion weed, they would be seen as a weed,” said Mark. “They are a weed,” I replied.

If we had our time over again, we would think twice about introducing them to our property. Mark put a bit of work into building up numbers in the first place. A decade or so on, I am putting a great deal more work into digging them out from some areas, all but sifting the soil to get the baby bulbs. You have been warned.

From happier bluebell days

What even is ‘a garden for all seasons’?

Today is the arbitrary date that is set to tell us that we are in the first day of winter. In colder climates and far-off places like the north of the northern hemisphere, the ground can be covered for snow for months or simply freeze solid. Gardens are put to bed for winter. People retreat indoors and the view from the windows becomes extremely important. Structure and form come into their own because that is all there is to look at.

Not here. We only get periodic warnings of winter until it strikes around the solstice at the end of June and even then, it only lasts about six weeks. I retreat indoors when it is either raining or bitterly cold but otherwise, I can continue in the garden.

So what do our summer gardens look like as winter arrives? These were designed to bring us summer colour and are largely planted in perennials.

The Wave Garden, named for its undulating hedges (when trimmed) comes into its own in spring and summer. Ralph is doing his daily morning check for rabbits.

The Wave Garden is at its least interesting stage. Even the form is not strong until we clip the hedging when the little species camellia – C. microphylla –  has finished flowering. The only other flowers out are the white alstromeria which seems to bloom effortlessly for about 10 months of the year.

Zach weeding is the most interesting aspect of the lily border this week. This stretch is all about the auratum lilies in high summer with a second outing in mid to late winter when the michelias and camellias bloom.

There is nothing to see in the adjacent lily border. In a few weeks, the Camellia yuhsienensis which punctuate that border will be in flower and they are eyecatching. I can see the first flowers opening now. The backing hedge of Fairy Magnolia White will start to bloom soon after but at this time, the only reason to look at it is to monitor the damage by the pesky rabbits digging holes.

The twin borders star from spring to autumn, but not winter

The twin borders are also largely put to bed. They are never totally flat and bare because many of the perennials are evergreen but the only point of interest at the moment is the startling delight of the yellow kniphofia.

Just recent hard work to be seen in the Iolanthe garden which is largely about flowering in spring through to early autumn

The Iolanthe Garden is currently receiving a great deal of attention but the fruits of Zach’s and my labours will not be seen until spring. The only colour is from the citrus fruit ripening.

Tawny carex carry this area all year round

The grasslands, as we call the area linking the borders and Iolanthe Garden, uses two evergreen, native grasses (everbrown, in practice). At this time of the year, it lacks the zing from the scattering of bulbs and flowers planted between, but it remains well furnished, as it does all year round.

The back border with the OTT Doryanthes palmeri on the right

The back border of the summer gardens is like the back row of the chorus. It rarely gets to sing any solo lines but it adds depth to the whole area. The dominant plants here are another native grass – Anemanthele lessoniana, also known as gossamer grass – and cardoons which get too large and fall over in summer but look great in winter and spring. The Queensland spear lily (Doryanthes palmeri) adds a very dominant presence at one end.

The Court Garden in winter – need I say more?

But it is the Court Garden that stars all year round. The only flowers at the moment are the late salvias, particularly the yellow Salvia madrensis (which tells you how mild our autumns and winters are) but whole area is lush and furnished with contrasting textures and tones of green, bronze, burgundy and silver. We have never gardened in this style before so it still comes as a surprise to me to see how this moderately large area (think tennis court size) performs well all year round.  

I have seen gardens that claim to be ‘a garden for all seasons’ – particularly Pukeiti Rhododendron Gardens. I came to the conclusion that, at best, that means that there is something of interest all year round but you may have to search for it. Somewhat like our patch of yellow kniphofia in the borders. It rarely means that a larger area of the garden stars in the off season. It seems a little personal triumph that the Court Garden can change with the seasons but continue to star through all.

It is not just individual plants starring in their time to shine; the Court Garden doesn’t look the same all year but it looks good in every season.

While we are doing a lot of work on preparing the summer gardens for next season, the woodland areas are coming into their own. The orchids, evergreen azaleas, bromeliads, schlumbergera (zygocactus) and early clivias are coming into flower. The quiet time for the woodland areas is summer but that is another story.