Three gardens (not ours)

Three Elms Garden

Despite my intentions, life has got in the way and I have not been out and about visiting gardens and artist’s studios open on various trails this week in Taranaki as much as I thought I would. But I did get to three gardens on Thursday, which is about my limit for a day.

How to completely screen your neighbour’s house from view when it is very close – at Three Elms

First up was Three Elms, in New Plymouth which exceeded my expectations. The owners, Shane and Lisa McNab, have always credited us with inspiring them to garden – albeit several decades ago – and they tell me they made their first plant purchase from us. It was a pot of rhodohypoxis. They have clearly learned a huge amount in the time since.

It takes a lot of skill to manage a very steep section but Three Elms show it can be done in such a way that the changes in level seem effortless

Three Elms is a town garden on a section that is not large but started out as a steep challenge. It is a due to their hard work and thoughtfulness that the gradient is no longer a problem. They have created small terraces with fairly easy transitions between them, belying the original slope and making moving around the area straightforward. Talk to Shane, if you visit, about the lengths he had to go to installing the large boulders and rocks that are used extensively. They are a feat of determination and physical effort.

That is a tropical cordyline, believe it not, with strelitzia, a dwarf maple and a palm.

The hard landscaping provides the framework but it is the plantings that star. As they should, in my opinion. Pretty much every square metre has been carefully thought about and tended with skill and care over many years and it shows in the plant selections, the health of the plants and the harmonious combinations. There are a lot of bromeliads but it is not only bromeliads, by any manner of means.

A nod to Japan makes use of a challenging space between the back of the house and a ponga (tree fern) retaining wall.

Gardens are only work if you don’t enjoy what you are doing. Three Elms has had a lot of time, thought, skill and – yes – love given to it over many years and it shows. If you are out and about garden visiting locally this weekend, go and see it.

Hurworth Country Garden

Hurworth Country Garden also delighted me. I had been to an event there late last year but events distract from looking at a garden and I wanted to have a better look. I was about a third of the way around it when I found myself thinking, “This is a really graceful garden” and that is not a descriptor that I have ever used about a garden before.

It is pretty large for a retirement garden situated just beyond the city limits and immaculately presented, but that high level of maintenance doesn’t interfere with the feeling of relaxed charm and space – and indeed, grace. Again, it reflects the skill, experience and thought of its owners, Jan and Graeme Worthington. I do like a thoughtful garden.

I loved the vibrant colour of the raised beds edging to the house verandahs, contrasting with the more subtle colours of much of the rest of the garden.

Jan’s use of colour is subtle but not monochromatic. When I commented on this, she put it down to her experience in quilt making. I haven’t seen her quilts but I imagine they are as immaculate and harmonious as her garden.

I coveted Hurworth’s garden room

They also have one of the loveliest garden rooms I have seen and I do like a good garden room. I didn’t even think to ask how and when they use it when the garden is not open to the public; it is perhaps a little too far from the house to use for summer meals and entertaining but it is the sort of room I could visualise sitting in myself, just to enjoy the ambience and views. Hurworth is a garden with a particularly lovely ambience.

Kowhai Garden

The third garden I went to was Kowhai Garden which has a remarkable collection of rhododendrons – over 900, I believe. It is not just rhododendrons but they are the stars at this time of the year. I entertained myself identifying those I knew, dredging my memory banks from the days when we had a nursery that specialised in the genus. Again, it is an example of how people cope with gardens that include a very steep slope, as much of this large garden has. What stood out for me were the rhododendrons that are thriving in a low maintenance environment – not only flowering well but also keeping good foliage and good plant form. Some are performing much better than others.

Rhododendron ‘Lemon Lodge’

Near the house is an outstanding plant of ‘Lemon Lodge’ – simply the best specimen I have ever seen.

Rhododendron ‘Floral Fete’

Also looking lovely were plants of R.nuttallii x lindley hybrids – these ones are ‘Floral Fete’, the owner, Neil Tapsell told me. There used to be a number of named forms of this cross around including the likes of ‘Mi Amor’, ‘Stead’s Best’ and ‘White Waves’. I am not sure how many are still available commercially but it remains a beautiful hybrid and ‘Floral Fete’ is as good as any of the forms I have seen and arguably better than ‘Mi Amor’.

Here endeth my summary of Thursday’s garden visits. I am hoping to get to see another couple over the weekend but the arrival today of our most beautiful Jury hybrid, our little baby granddaughter accompanied by her mama, may yet derail my plans.

Finally, I add this photo from Three Elms not because it shows much of the garden but I am always interested in how gardeners manage their behind the scenes workspaces in small town gardens. Tidily and discreetly, in this case, I would say. Our behind the scenes spaces are much more expansive and untidy and I am in awe at anybody who can manage to screen and disguise garden service areas so well.

Out and about but just across the bridge in Lepperton

Rhododendron Lollipop Lace

We have had quite the week here. Although the garden is no longer open to the public, we hosted the NZ Rhododendron Association conference attendees on Friday. They were two years later than originally planned; the 2021 conference was cancelled at the last minute due to Covid dramas. I thought I would get some photos to record the event but there were so many people, so many vehicles to park – including three coaches – and so many staggered departures to catch flights and the like that we were scrambling to keep all the juggling balls in the air. Not a single photo was taken to record this event so all I can do is illustrate with  Rhododendron ‘Lollipop Lace’, a lesser-known Jury hybrid that was looking very pretty on the day. And say that it was a highly successful visit and it is very affirming for us to have so many people really enjoy the garden.

Unexpectedly delightful in the little Lepperton church.

The annual garden festival here opened the same day and we are deeply relieved to have retired from that 10 day event. Despite being a little zombie-like yesterday, I headed over to nearby Lepperton where I found an unexpected delight. Floral art is not an area in which I have any expertise at all; I lack even a framework to understand any of the principles and skills involved. I rarely cut flowers to bring indoors because I feel that as soon as I cut blooms, they start dying and I would rather see them living longer in the garden than commit flowercide. But in Lepperton, I found a floral art display which made me stop and reach for my camera.

The little Lepperton church is, I am told, 123 years old. From the outside, it is a typical white, weatherboard church of that era, inside it is unexpectedly charming and the floral displays were simply spectacular. Immaculate blooms arranged by floral art enthusiasts make a grand display. If you are local or currently visiting the area, it is well worth a visit.

Not your usual orchids on display in the Lepperton church hall

Out the back of the church is a little church hall with an interesting display of lesser-known orchid treasures put on by the Taranaki Orchid Society, which is well worth a look as well. There are a few crafts and local honey on sale, as well as our gardener, Zach, selling plants he has potted up for the season, which was my main reason for visiting.

Out the front of the church, there is a splendid white azalea in bloom. I didn’t ferret around the base to see if there is more than one plant growing or whether this is all just from a single original plant layering along the ground, but it does show the size these plants can reach if not kept clipped to the tight, little mounds that most gardeners seem to favour.

Down the road and round a corner or two, a roadside rhododendron was showy enough to make me turn around and go back for a second look. It appears to be an old house site to me because there were other ornamentals also left edging an empty section. Offhand, I don’t know which one it is but it will be an early cultivar because it is quite old.

The Lepper Garden in Lepperton
Most of the plants I recognised in this garden were of the woody tree and shrub type but I am pretty sure Pauline bought this Farfugium tussilagineum argenteum from us and the pink petals are from Felix Jury’s Camellia Dreamboat

There is quite a cluster of gardens open this week around Lepperton for both the main garden festival and the fringe festival but I only had time to visit one. I chose Lepper’s Garden because we used to know the creator of this garden – the late Pauline Lepper. I was only halfway round the garden when I thought, ‘my goodness, Pauline must have spent a lot of money at our nursery back in the day’. There were so many plants that I recognised as coming from us that it was like meeting old friends. If Pauline is looking down from above, I am sure she will be smiling to see the next generation continuing her garden and watching the plants she chose grow to maturity.

Simple bedding plants but I like the blue haze and the repetition of blue at ground level through the garden

This is the biggest garden visiting week of the year in our area. We plan to visit a few gardens that we haven’t seen before and hopefully there will be many others out appreciating the huge amount of work garden owners put in to preparing their gardens to open for others to enjoy.

Of rhododendrons and the roof

Mark’s ‘Floral Sun’

As the deciduous magnolia season draws to a close, it is time for the rhododendrons to star. And Mark’s rhododendron hybrids ‘Floral Sun’ and ‘Floral Gift’ have indeed been starring this week. Not only are they gorgeous, they are also scented, Gift even more so than Sun.

On Friday next week, we have the New Zealand Rhododendron Association conference attendees coming here. This was originally scheduled for 2021 but cancelled at the last minute as large parts of the country went into the second Covid lockdown. We agreed to them coming this year even though we no longer open the garden.

We are not the rhododendron garden we once were. They were a key plant when Felix and Mimosa started the garden here and Mark started the nursery on rhododendrons. We produced a huge range, including many of the showy American rhododendrons that were all the rage back then. Some readers will remember the days when everybody wanted ‘Lems Cameo’, ‘Lems Monarch’, ‘Puget Sound’ and the likes.

Mark’s ‘Floral Gift’ has been a bit of a sleeper star. We worried that it was a bit sparse on foliage at the start but it has gone from strength to strength as a garden plant. This plant was moved a few months ago from an area where it had become too shaded and it has not worried at all about that relocation.

In the time since, we have lost many plants which either faded away or up and died on us, as Mark describes it. This includes a lot of the species, the dwarf varieties which are largely bred from alpine species and the showy hybrids from places with colder climates. Rhododendrons are reasonably adaptable plants as long as they get a winter chill (which they don’t here), a situation which is not hot and dry in summer or too wet at any time. I console myself with the knowledge that the British Royal Horticultural Society’s flagship garden, Wisley, has recently felt the need to relocate a lot of their rhododendron collection to more northerly RHS gardens in order to save it. Wisley has a low rainfall and the combination of increasingly dry conditions combined with milder winters meant that many varieties were endangered.

Public gardens play a major role in preserving species and collections but that is not a responsibility we take on as a private garden. We just go with the flow and adapt. One of those adaptations has been to largely eliminate the use of sprays. Some of our rhododendrons required spraying every year to keep them healthy but there is nothing sustainable in that. So it comes down to accepting that we will lose ‘Rubicon’, ‘College Pink’, the Loderi hybrids and some others.

At least the nuttalliis still thrive here

What we do know is what will thrive and look good without spraying. We have always been fond of the maddenii group and particularly the nuttalliiis. None of them have the big, round, ball trusses commonly associated with rhododendrons but most are scented, keep good foliage, do not get infested with thrips (which is what gives white leaves and weakens the plant), suffer from leaf burn on the edges of the leaves and they are far happier in our mild conditions without a winter chill. I much prefer them to the classic ball trusses now but I spent countless hours trying to persuade customers and retailers of their merits when we were producing them commercially. Too many just wanted rhododendrons with big red trusses.

One of Mark’s unnamed hybrids. Please notice the foliage.

Mark set out to see if he could breed healthy plants with ball trusses and clean foliage in order to meet the market demand. But it takes a long time to breed and assess new woody plants (except for roses which have a super-quick turnaround) and, in the meantime, rhododendrons fell from favour for all the reasons mentioned above, meaning demand dropped away and we retired from the nursery and plant production. So even though some of them are pleasing, they just sit in a long row in a paddock and we look at them from time to time.

It is more about the foliage than the flowers on these unnamed seedlings. Of course they need to put up plenty of good blooms but plants that stay looking good and lush all year round with no spraying, feeding or mollycoddling was the important factor in breeding.

I may pick blooms of those that are looking good to show the conference attendees when they visit. It is not that the flowers are exciting breakthroughs; it is that they have good foliage and a healthy habit as well as mass flowering, even when grown in full sun without ever being fed or sprayed. That is an achievement. One day, rhododendrons may come back into fashion and there is a little resource sitting here for a future generation to capitalise on.

Besides preparing the garden for the conference and an overseas tour due soon after, our roof has been dominating our lives here for the past few weeks. Like other houses from the same era of the early 1950s, we have – or had – a concrete tile roof and those tiles are now so fragile that they break if you so much as look at them. We bit the bullet and decided we could no longer delay replacing the roof. It is not an easy roof and therefore eye-wateringly expensive. The lead scaffolder commented that it is one of the most difficult scaffolding jobs on a domestic house that he has done because of the different roof levels. So we are surrounded in scaffolding, piles of tiles, bricks, new roofing and a whole lot more. And a partially reroofed house with stop-gap weather proofing in a Taranaki spring is high stress. Yesterday’s rain had Mark and me crawling around in ceiling cavities patching remaining cracked tiles from inside and strategically placing buckets. I don’t often concede to age but I came to the conclusion that we really are getting too old to be crawling around in ceiling cavities. If it is fine tomorrow, we should see the main body of the roof finished with only ridge cappings, flashings, spouting and downpipes to go. I am looking forward to the day when we no longer have to worry about leaks and occasional internal floods (two so far this year).

A work in progress

The new roof is an anachronism in materials – long run roofing iron – but not in colour. The old tiles had weathered to grey-brown but we can see that they started off in a shade that was more orange than red and I can remember those startling orange tile roofs from my childhood. The new roof is dark brick-red-brown and that will be fine, probably an improvement on the earlier orange-red. I did not want a grey roof. There is enough greyness in the world without voluntarily adding more.

The chimney was a cause of nagging anxiety

Dropping the back chimney to below roof level was a major job that took three men with a jackhammer and a sledge hammer all day on Friday. We didn’t use that fireplace – we have three others – and we have long worried that the massive brick tower was an earthquake hazard that had the potential to demolish part of the house and take lives if it ever snapped off. We have to take earthquake risks seriously in our shakey, quakey isles. Architecturally, I am sad to see it gone but it will be a relief not to worry about earthquakes or leaks.

Going, going…
… gone.

Whether all this will be completed, cleared and the outside areas reinstated before the conference people arrive at the end of next week remains to be seen but they are coming to see the garden, not the house. At least we are not open for the garden festival because that would have been a problem.

Faffin’ around

This lemon cymbidium orchid has not flowered before that any of us can remember but it is a little charmer. The lilac is a Dendrobium Bardo Rose.

I am a faffer in the garden. At times it feels like an indulgent use of time but really, the greatest pleasure I find in the state commonly called ‘retirement’, is being time-rich. I have the time to faff and I derive a great deal of pleasure from paying attention to detail to get things right, in my eyes at least.

Our gardener, Zach, brought us two orchids he picked up at the local orchid show, knowing that we wanted to extend the cymbidiums beyond the ones Mark and our daughter gathered several decades ago. We wanted clean colours that could light up a space and provide contrast to the rather large number of brown cymbidiums we have. Brown was the fashion colour back when our young daughter became the recipient of generous gifts from enthusiasts wanting to encourage her.

Zach and I placed them where we thought they would work and he planted them in slightly raised mounds of coarse woodchip and bark that we gather on site. As soon as I looked, I knew they were wrong but I was a bit reluctant to say anything after he had gone to the trouble of planting them. Then Mark came in and started to say, “I was walking down the far end of the Avenue Garden when something startled me.” I have lived with him long enough to be able to finish his observation for him – “a lime green orchid?” “Yes,” he replied. “I didn’t realise when it was sitting on the bench that it was such a synthetic, fluorescent colour. Maybe it would fit in better in a more shaded area surrounded by green foliage.”

Better when placed more discreetly and not out on its own shouting ‘look at me! Look at me!’ The photograph has come out more gold and the earlier lime colour seems to be changing as the flower matures.
I think the white will bed in more harmoniously than where we had it
I originally placed it by this massive red-brown orchid but it was too stark a contrast and instead of adding a light touch, it simply looked out of place. This one may be brown but it has at least nine very long flower spikes laden with bloom.

Zach, bless him, is very obliging and willing to see the garden through our eyes. We found what we hope are final homes for the new orchids. The white one was also misplaced and looked far too starkly bridal amongst the browns but fits in more naturally in another place entirely. While we were about it, he moved one I thought was hideous – a caramel brown in tone with a startling red throat – to a less prominent position where it fits in with the colours of the clivias as opposed to being beside a pretty, pink cymbidium.

Not my favourite cymbidium

I am much happier with the result. Zach has been quietly dividing and relocating bits to extend the orchid display and feeding them with compost. The plants are responding most gratifyingly after decades of benign neglect. What the cymbidiums may lack in subtlety, they make up for with their exotic character and the many weeks they last in good bloom in the garden.

Pleione orchids flowering now

The pleiones are pretty rather than exotic and very much a seasonal delight. Their flowers are much more delicate and they have a short season. They also need more attention each year to keep them going. Without looking after them and replanting most years, we would lose them. We like them enough to be willing to fuss over them.

Dendrobiums in pink and white, backed by the primrose calanthe orchids that are passing over now

The Bardo-Rose dendrobiums are also dainty but not as pernickety as the pleiones. They too can survive on benign neglect with minimal attention.

We have brown brown, red brown, murky brown, caramel brown and golden brown. Six flower spikes so we can’t complain.

Faffing about pays dividends in my book. We garden on a pretty large scale for a domestic garden but it is the detail within that larger scale and landscape that keeps it interesting for us all year round.

In Monet’s garden – taking garden grooming to ridiculous lengths

Attention to detail is not to be confused with immaculate gardening. I have been in a fair number of immaculate  gardens in my time – not a leaf out of place, not even a blade of grass. Preternatural tidiness. It is much admired by some but really only achievable by extraordinarily precise, tidy people who have a small garden, because it needs attention every day. And maybe these immaculate gardeners only maintain this pristine perfection when their garden is open to the public. Even if we aspired to that level of garden grooming it is neither achievable nor sustainable across the 10 acres that we actively manage as garden. Fortunately, it is not one of our garden goals. I have never forgotten the sight of four young gardeners at Monet’s  garden in Giverny, picking over the pelargoniums. They were not dead-heading; they were literally dead-petalling – picking off the spent petals from each individual bloom. I was riveted by the sight but honestly, I couldn’t think that it was worth paying four sets of wages to pick off dead petals for the visiting hordes. That is much too much attention to detail.

The Yellow Magnolias

Magnolia ‘Honey Tulip’ with ‘Iolanthe’ behind

When the first yellow magnolia hybrids became available in New Zealand in the early to mid 1990s, they were a bit of a revelation. Most deciduous magnolias are from parts of central Asia and come in shades of pink, white, purple and hues through to red. Yellow seemed a significant addition and many people hadn’t realised that USA has its own deciduous magnolia and it flowers yellow. That is M. acuminata, sometimes referred to in its homelands as the cucumber tree.  

It takes time to see how a magnolia will perform in a different climate. We knew that M. acuminata was very cold hardy, could grow very large (think 30 metres) and had small flowers. When you are looking at small nursery plants sporting their first yellow flowers, they can look exciting – something very different and new, to us at least. Given time, the picture becomes clearer and I quote Wikipedia: “Unlike most magnolias, the flowers are not showy. They are typically small, yellow-green, and borne high in the tree…”.

Magnolia ‘Yellow Fever’ on one of our road boundaries. I have never understood why anyone would choose that name

I remember talking to an American enthusiast about magnolias and it was a revelation as to different perceptions of plant hardiness. When we talked about hardiness in magnolias in our temperate climate, we measured things like vulnerability of the open flowers to frost or late storms. The timing of flowering mattered most to us. To the Americans, it was a matter of whether the bark split when the ground and trees froze in winter. That is next-level plant hardiness and they need plants that flower later in the season. Their yellow magnolia species is hardy in their winter cold.

One of the early yellow hybrids – probably ‘Yellow Fever’ – in the magnolia dell at Pukekura Park
And a close-up to show the problem of smaller flowers getting engulfed by new foliage. Most of the first batch of yellow selections flower even later so the flowers get hidden more.

The problem with most of the yellow hybrids in our temperate conditions is that the flowers come out late, at the same time as the leaves, and get lost in the foliage. The trees also grow extremely quickly and become large. The early hybrids came from Brooklyn Botanic Gardens In New York. We started with ‘Elizabeth’ (flowered early enough to beat the foliage but cream, not yellow and small flowers), ‘Yellow Bird’ (best yellow but flowered with its foliage and the small flowers became lost to view), ‘Yellow Fever’ (paler yellow but its main flowering came before the new foliage swamped them from sight and it still puts on a good display, despite its small flowers) and ‘Sundance’ (just another small, pale yellow in a similar mould). To those we added ‘Koban Dori’ (reputedly like a dwarf M. acuminata but the bright yellow flowers disappear behind the lush new foliage), ‘Eva Maria’ (novelty flower in a mix of pink, yellow and green that looks striking viewed close up but simply murky as a landscape tree – the same can be said of ‘Woodsman’) and ‘Hot Flash’ (which we rate as one of the better options because it is a good strong colour and it largely flowers on bare wood for us).

Poor old ‘Hot Flash’ never even got out of the nursery. It has long since rooted through from its pot but at least we get to admire it in a prominent spot beside the driveway to the neighbours.

In the years since those early hybrids, there has been an explosion of new selections internationally. The size of blooms has increased a bit but most keep that upward pointed shape and, in our conditions, most flower with their new foliage . Many magnolia specialists agree that too many yellow hybrids have been named. We stopped collecting more because Mark started hybridising his own and none of the overseas hybrids seemed to shout out to us as ‘must-haves’.

‘Honey Tulip’ on the left, ‘Hot Flash’ on the right
and ‘Honey Tulip’ on the left with ‘Sundance’ on the right

Mark’s ‘Honey Tulip’ is the only yellow he has named and he selected it for its cup shape – rounded petals, different to the more pointed shapes of other yellow hybrids – its reasonable flower size by yellow standards, smaller growth habit than the originating species and the fact that it flowers in abundance before the leaves appear. We have not regretted selecting it as it continues to go from strength to strength as the tree matures.

The original plant of ‘Honey Tulip’

But ‘Honey Tulip’ was a step on the way. Mark would have preferred a clearer yellow and his quest has always been to see if he could reach a big flower – something the size of an ‘Iolanthe’ bloom – in clear yellow with the cup and saucer form. As we edge past the peak blooming season for the Asiatic magnolias in red, white and pink, his yellow seedlings are all starting to bloom. The dream of a big, proper yellow ‘Iolanthe’ type bloom will likely take another generation or two of plant breeding and, sadly, he may be running out of time. But there is enough amongst the seedlings to see that it is possible. He has reached the size, the colour and the flower form – just not all on the same plant yet!

We are flowering a lot of next generation ‘Honey Tulip’ controlled crosses and most are ending up looking very like their dominant parent. Good colour but not good enough to name.
And again – a good plant but not good enough to name when we already have one
‘Big Flop’, as Mark calls this one. Getting there on size and overall flower form but the upper petals flop and it is not a good enough colour
Good flower size and form but not there yet on colour – more cream than yellow
Good colour but not flower form
Getting closer but Mark hates the notched petals…
Good colour and flower size but the tree is growing way too large to even consider

Breeding magnolias is a numbers game, Mark will tell you. Amongst the several score of yellow seedlings, there are two that excite us. Neither are big yellow ‘Iolanthes’ but there is enough that is special about them to make us pick them as worth tracking for potential selection. I don’t share photos of ones that we think may be special, sorry. You only get to see them when we rule them out or when they are actually ready for release. In a world already overcrowded with yellow magnolia selections, we need to be very confident before we add one or two more.