After advocating for wildflowers on our road verges in January, it is perhaps ironic that I follow up with the worst weeds in our garden. All are ornamental garden escapes and none should be liberated to roadsides.

Cape Pond Weed
There are times Mark has wanted to line up and shoot the former neighbour upstream from us who deliberately planted Cape Pond Weed – also known as water hawthorn, botanically Aponogetum distachyum. Pretty it may be in bloom, but we have been waging war on it for well over a decade. Floods scoured it out upstream but it has made itself right at home in our slow moving sections. We spend countless hours raking it out each summer because it we don’t, it will only take one full season before it covers the entire water surface. Miss one piece and it grows away again at an alarming speed.

Prunus campanulata filled with tui
Prunus campanulata ranks amongst our two worst weeds. We are constantly pulling seedlings out, or digging if they have snuck through to a second season. Any older than that, and they require poisoning. Yes I know some folk think we should get rid of all of these but the tui! The tui! And please do not tell me to plant kowhai for the tui instead because they don’t flower at the same time and even our largest kowhai trees cannot sustain the scores of tui that frequent our early blooming Taiwanese cherries. So we continue to deal to the unwanted seedlings on an ongoing basis.
There is hope. Mark has been turning his attention to the sterile campanulatas we have here, because it is the seed that is the problem. His father bred sterile campanulata hybrids – ‘Pink Clouds’, ‘Mimosa’ and ‘Petite Pink’. The last variety is probably not commercially available now which is a pity because it is a true dwarf tree. The problem with all three varieties is that they are candy pink, not the sought after carmine red. But we have a few sterile reds with some possible options which give flower power and nectar for the tui without the curse of seed.

About the bangalow palm’s seeding ways…
The other shocker – maybe I had better whisper this, given its popularity – is the bangalow palm (Archontophoenix cunninghamiana). Yes it is handsome and reliable but this Aussie import is far too keen to make itself at home. It took a long time for our specimens to start flowering but boy, are they a problem now. Mark tries to cut the seed off as soon as it is visible, but this requires the extension ladder and a pole saw. There is probably not a square metre left in our garden where we have yet to find a germinating bangalow. What is particularly concerning is that in the early stages, they are very difficult to pick apart from seedling nikaus. If you are anywhere near native bush or reserve, this is one plant that you should question having in your garden. Based on our personal experience, we recommend the Queen Palm (Syagrus romanzoffiana) as an alternative.
Mark adds in Cornus capitata, the weedy dogwood. It was favoured by his father who planted it all along one of the road frontages and Mark has been battling it ever since. At least it makes good fire wood.

Fuchsia boliviana performs TOO enthusiastically in our climate
We have reviewed pretty Fuchsia boliviana. We acquired it before it appeared on the National Plant Pest Accord but never moved it into the garden. Thank goodness. In the wilds of the “plant out” area, where some specimens can languish for years while waiting for the right spot to be found, it grew far too vigorously and the carpet of seedlings rang loud alarm bells. It is another of those plants where a sterile form would be advantageous because it flowers for months on end, is showy and has attractive foliage.
Dare I mention the wonderfully fragrant Himalayan Daphne bholua? It is not in the same league as the previous plants but it has certainly seeded down all round the place here. Not all the seedlings flower, either, which is not to their credit. It is another example of a plant which is highly prized internationally but can become a significant weed in our benign climate.
It can be a mighty fine line between a desirable self-seeder and a weed. Most of the plants mentioned produce berry-like seeds which are then distributed by the birds, particularly the kereru. Plants which only seed down close to the parent are manageable but once our feathered friends are on the loose, it becomes a different matter altogether.
First published in the March issue of NZ Gardener and reprinted here with their permission.


The International Camellia Congress in China was certainly an extraordinary experience.
The day promised a four hour journey to Baotai Mount, the unveiling of The Stone Monument, tour of primitive camellia forests, mountain azalea, red lotus flowers and more in the natural landscape. The unveiling happened at lightning quick speed as most of us strolled up to the vibrant welcome. With a huge turnout of locals, it began to dawn on some of us that maybe WE were the exhibits, the sight to see on this occasion. China is a country driven by huge domestic tourism where foreigners still have novelty value.

After lunch, we wandered in the woods of ancient reticulata camellias – primarily Lindl. Most of the wander was on a four metre wide paved walkway, but it is different in a country with a massive population. There wouldn’t be much nature reserve left if thousands, hundreds of thousands or more feet were able to trample root systems in the wild.
We never did see mountain azalea and red lotus flowers though Mark was pleased to see a little Daphne bholua growing in the wild. Sometimes you just have to go with the flow and embrace the unexpected. Botanical variety may have bypassed us on this occasion, but I will never forget the unexpected sight of four soldiers (Red Army?) marching through the ancient camellia woods on Baotai Mount. You don’t see that sort of thing back home in Tikorangi.

The photos today are the start of a little exercise in colour combinations, which we have spent some time discussing as we plan our new summer garden plantings. I am a big fan of blue and yellow in interior colour schemes (our dining and TV rooms are indeed soft yellow and French blue). I have long wanted to try a blue and yellow border in the garden, but now think it will look too contrived for what we want.







A word on the thorny matter of turning hydrangeas blue or pink… why bother? Gardening should be about working with nature, not trying to outwit it. In Taranaki, our hydrangeas are largely blue, very blue – the sort of blue that folk with pink hydrangeas envy. Yet I found myself charmed by the pink hydrangea display in a Canberra garden centre.


