Tag Archives: Abbie Jury

Where did that plant come from?

Species or not species, that is the question

Occasionally, a plant turns up in the garden that is a mystery. So it is with this gladiolus. It is flowering for a second season in the Court Garden. I know I didn’t plant it – at least, not knowingly. I would never have put gladioli in that garden, or so I tell myself. There is nothing around it that it could have snuck in as corms in the root ball. Neither Mark nor I can remember seeing it flower elsewhere in the garden but it must have been in the rockery because it has also turned up in the Wild North Garden after I gave Zach a random collection of surplus bulbs to try naturalising.

Out of place here but I can find a spot where it will fit in better

It is a mystery and may remain that way. I will have to move it. When it flowered last year, it was beside a dark blue salvia that has since gone into serious decline and the combination was striking. I looked at it and wondered if it was too striking or just unexpected in that context. This year, it is more jarring than striking because the colour palette of the Court Garden is otherwise soft and muted. I will move it after flowering. It will fit more harmoniously into the borders.

Dame Edna type hybrids – a legacy from my very late mother in law. I like the pure yellow because of the clarity of colour and the rather muddy apricot looks fine in a cottage-style planting

I assumed it was a legacy from Mark’s mother (who died in the mid 1980s so we are going back a long way, now). Somebody gave her a collection of different gladioli hybrids that she planted in the rockery, not so much because she liked them as because they were a gift of colour. I am not a fan of those big, vulgar gladdies – too Dame Edna Everage-ish for my taste – and the foliage succumbs to rust in our climate so they don’t stay looking good and their scale is wrong for our rockery. Over the years, I discarded most of them although I did find another spot for a pure yellow one that does not displease me. A few others have gone into the mix and match of the Iolanthe Garden.

G. dalenii or not?

“I think it might be a species,” said Mark. That makes more sense because if it is a species, there is every chance he bought it at some point. If he had ever kept an accessions book, we would be able to check but he never has so we can’t. I reached for Terry Hatch’s book “Bulbs for New Zealand Gardeners” which is somewhat out of date now but still a useful record of many of the more obscure bulbs that were available in this country at the time when Mark was buying and acquiring plants to extend the collection. From Terry’s book, I found a few names to look at further on the internet and I am wondering if it is Gladiolus dalenii syn natalensis, or,  if not a species, then maybe a first generation hybrid. Maybe some reader has more expertise in this area than I have?

Gladiolus papilio or the butterfly gladiolus

What I did learn from the internet is that there are at least 255 different gladiolus species and those species can be highly variable. I was curious as to the main breeder species that have been used to get those Dame Edna hybrids and the two main ones, it turns out, are the rather odd little G. papilio (otherwise known as the butterfly gladiolus) which we have in abundance and the aforementioned G. dalenii syn natalensis. So that was interesting.

Gladiolus x papilio ‘Ruby’, thank you.

What I was delighted to be given as the red form of G. papilio named ‘Ruby’ or ‘Ruby Red’ turns out to be a hybrid, too. Technically, it should be named as G. X papilio ‘Ruby’. The X is shorthand for a hybrid although my somewhat superficial search didn’t find what it is crossed with. It is very good.

Gladiolous tristis

It is only the OTT hybrids I am so dismissive about. We grow a few of the species and I would happily add more. I wouldn’t be without the night-scented G. tristis that is a graceful and charming addition to the in spring and we seem to have a number of different forms of the variable Painted Lady gladiolus, otherwise known as G. carneus. If you want to see more of the charming species, the Pacific Bulb Society has a gallery of dainty delights. Many of them won’t be in Aotearoa New Zealand and few that are will be commercially available. Gladiolus species are somewhat of a niche interest.

Gladiolus carneus or the Painted Lady gladiolus

Needs must when drastic pruning is required

We generally prefer to lift, limb and encourage the natural form of a plant like this mature Camellia ‘Tiny Princess’ but it isn’t always possible.

We carry out a lot of pruning in our garden but not a whole lot of drastic, hard pruning to reduce a plant to juvenility. Generally, we like to celebrate maturity in plants and to shape or clip to bring out their natural form if required. But sometimes there are plants that are beyond that and drastic action is needed because they have lost what ornamental merit they had.

I was delighted to find some perfect blooms on a specimen of Camellia ‘Mimosa Jury’ on a former nursery stock plant this season but it is many years since the original plant in the garden has looked like this.

So it is with some of the original camellias bred by Felix Jury, some of which are now household names. We regard the original plants as having some intrinsic value simply because they are the very first one but there comes a time when they can lack any aesthetic merit, especially these days when camellia petal blight has robbed them even of pretty flowers. In particular, ‘Mimosa Jury’, ‘Waterlily’ and ‘Softly’ had reached for the sky and left nothing but bare legs and messy, blighted blooms and aborted buds visible at ground level.

What remains of Camellia ‘Softly’ after a brutal prune but we expect it to recover. It must have been at least six metres tall last week.
That is Zach, to the left of the blue circle, taking down ‘Mimosa Jury’ which was taller than the one still standing behind. In front is the mountain of material taken off already.

A word of warning: we have a fairly long season when we can do this sort of extreme pruning – late winter through spring is best, so August to October. We can get away with going into November this year because spring has been a little late and we get regular rain. It really is too late and risky for people in climates who are staring down the barrel of a long, dry, hot summer which may start very soon. Your plant may just sigh and die rather than springing into fresh growth.

This specimen of Camellia ‘Tiny Star’ had become leggy and way too tall to appreciate the dainty blooms. It was cut back very hard indeed two years ago so has just put on its third season of fresh growth and should be as pretty as a picture in flower next spring.

You can cut back to ground level with camellias and they will grow again but you get a thicket of young shoots and no form to the plant. We prefer to cut off to anywhere between a metre up to three metres, depending on the situation, so that the plant will look established again quickly. If we can, we will leave a few wispy branches that still have leaves on them, even if we trim them off later when the new growths have appeared. In this case, ‘Softly’ is back to bare wood while ‘Mimosa’ has a few thin branches with leaves. We shape the remaining trunks and branches, often reducing them to a strong central leader and maybe five or seven branches from that leader.

When I say reestablish ‘quickly’, I mean two years. The plants will push out new shoots this season and bush out again next growing season but they won’t flower and look lush until they have that second growing season behind them so into the third flush of new growth. Patience is a virtue in gardening.

As is our usual practice, we deal with the waste by retrieving what is suitable for firewood and putting the leafy and twiggy remains through the chipper to use as mulch.

The bare branches of an established plant of ‘Velvet and Cream’ – an extreme example of getting a decent shaped plant out of it after we failed to train it adequately from the start.

You can do this style of extreme pruning on michelias, too and we have reduced a M. laevifolia ‘Velvet and Cream’ to a leafless frame this week as well but you do need to start with a strong growing, healthy specimen. If it is not growing vigorously, it is may die. If you are wondering about hard pruning a michelia (botanically magnolias these days), there are more before and after photos over time here from an earlier effort on another specimen.

Work has stopped until the babies fledge and fly. Then, sadly, it is farewell to Picea albertiana ‘Conica’.

Some plants are beyond rescue. Work has stopped, temporarily, on the Picea albertiana ‘Conica’ in the rockery. It was once a fine specimen of admirable size and form. It was also kept in good health because Mark sprayed it for red spider once a year. As it grew larger, it became harder to spray and Mark – He Who Used To Do All The Spraying here – became increasingly reluctant to routinely spray to keep plants healthy. We decided that good environmental practice was more important than keeping inappropriate plants alive in the garden. In the years since he stopped spraying, the red spiders have pretty much taken over and the tree has gone into serious decline, as well as developing a pronounced lean. Time for it to go.

Cutting down has stopped because what remains houses a bird’s nest with babies. It may just be a common old blackbird but we are not willing to knowingly kill a family simply because we want to finish a task. Completion can wait a little longer until the branches are no longer occupied.

Talking of birds, Mama Thrush is bringing Zach and me delight although Ralph the dog is not so appreciative. She built her nest in the grapevine that grows beneath the verandah on the front of our shed which happens to be our main seating area when Lloyd and Zach are here at work. Her early anxieties appear to have faded and she has become accustomed to humans below. We can co-exist.

Mama Thrush’s nest outlined in blue – sheltered from the weather but taking a few chances on the humans nearby.

Life amongst death

Te Henui cemetery

I have been a little quiet here for the past few weeks. In part this is because life can get in the way and indeed, some fairly large chunks of my time have been consumed by matters unrelated to gardening. And sometimes I think I have nothing worth saying that I have not said before. But I am back again.

I dropped in yesterday to Te Henui cemetery yesterday, not to pay respects to the dead but to revel in the flowers. It was a while since I had last visited. On a day with bright sunlight and a strong, blustery wind, it was distinctly less than ideal conditions for photographs but the graveyard never disappoints.

The catalyst to visit came in part from being sent a newsletter written by Michael McCoy who had visited it in the pouring rain a week earlier. McCoy is not a name that is well known in this country and when he came here the following day, I wished I had googled him before he arrived because he certainly has a much higher profile elsewhere – particularly in Australia – and an impressive résumé to match. Garden designer, writer of books, TV writer and host and leader of masterclass tours, he has covered his ground internationally and in an extended conversation with him, we found so much common ground that I was both inspired and affirmed.  

Alas, his newsletter to subscribers (like my Canberra daughter who forwarded it to me) does not appear to be posted to his main website (https://thegardenist.com.au/)  and I can’t find it on line to add the link so I can not share it in full. Suffice to say, his joy in the experience of visiting the cemetery made me proud to be a local and to have a loose connection to some of the volunteers who turn this place of death and often long-forgotten memories into a place that celebrates life with colour and light. His concluding sentences are:

“But what I’m forever chasing, and experience with joyous regularity, are those magical moments when conscious enjoyment turns to inexplicable enchantment. 

I never imagined it could happen in a cemetery. In the pouring rain.”

Just those lines have started me thinking about those magical moments I have experienced in other people’s gardens in this country, in other parts of the world and, indeed, in our own garden. There is a good thought to carry me through the day. But in the meantime, I will leave you with some (mostly) joyous moments from amongst the tombstones. I still think of this graveyard as the grown-ups version of miniature gardens and sand saucers that so many of us made in our childhoods and that adds to its charm.

Alas poor Annie and Clarence

Shirley in her garden

I remembered the adage that old gardeners never die, they just turn into compost. All I could think was ‘not with our modern burial techniques, they don’t, especially if they have been embalmed’ and I wondered if my memory was correct. I typed in ‘old gardeners never die’ and Google gave me several variations.

‘Old gardeners never die, they just run out of thyme’ – a bit twee or naff, I thought.

‘Old gardeners never die. They just spade away and then throw in the trowel.’ This seemed a bit wittier.

‘Old gardeners never die; they just very slowly turn into the most magnificent compost. But what a marvellous, active brew it is!’ That is the full quote I was thinking of.

Mark says he thought old gardeners never die, they just turn into garden gnomes. This is a family joke because, as his father became older and older, he did indeed start to remind us of a gnome. As we grow older, I have reflected more on how we made it possible for Felix to stay in his home and garden until he shuffled off the mortal coils well into his 80s.

We do not see a Ryman Healthcare Village beckoning to us in our future, even though I see many advertisements targeting our demographic with what are meant to be enticing visions of a care-free ‘village’ lifestyle with folks of a similar age bracket. Not too many of them look like gardeners to me.

How to manage a completely flat area surrounded by neighbour’s fences and to give an illusion of space and distance. On the left is a bold planting of simply splendid red astelias by the house.
I need to ask Shirley which red astelia her magnificent four plants are. Mark and his father spent years working on breeding red astelias – one of our native plants – and, despite all their efforts, Shirley’s plants are better and more of a statement than any we have growing here.

No, if I am lucky enough to live long, I want to be like Stratford gardener, Shirley Greenhill. I called in to see Shirley and her garden during the garden festival yesterday and she is indomitable. Shirley has been a stalwart of the Taranaki garden scene for more decades than many of us can remember. Her previous large garden is still cited as being particularly lovely, cool climate gardening on varied terrain managed with skill and charm. As an ageing widow, she reluctantly decided to move to something more sensible, more manageable, on a town section that has largely flat terrain with an easy-care modern home.

A river of rhodohypoxis is no mean feat to keep going. I should have asked what takes over from the rhodohypoxis in this area after they have peaked, because I am sure there will be something.

Shirley set about turning this ‘sensible choice’ into her own and she has certainly not taken the low maintenance option to her retirement garden. She loves plants and she loves gardening, even though she has had to scale down to a much smaller area. It is not that small though, by retirement standards. She has a lifetime of experience in active gardening and she loves many different plants and a high level of interest in her garden. I imagine there is something of interest to look at in every week of the year. If I lived a little closer, I would ask to visit to see and track it through the seasons.

Making use of every piece of available space with just a pocket handkerchief of lawn remaining
It is not the best coloured wisteria I have seen, being neither blue nor white, but it is a very good example of managing to keep one of the word’s more rampant plants confined to a small space and still keep it flowering abundantly.

I didn’t want to embarrass Shirley by asking to photograph her but there is a charming clip of her on prime time TV show, Seven Sharp, from October 26. It is available online  here for another 20 days  and she features from 17.10 minutes on.   If I reach the age of 88 and am still active, effervescent, and clearly in full possession of all my mental faculties, I will feel blessed indeed. What a role model for those of us who are now entering that stage of being aware that we have more years behind us than we have ahead.

No space for lawn but the considered placement of clipped shrubs and some moderately bold choices of larger trees and shrubs gives presence to the low underplantings of assorted treasures.

I bought the very last copy of her self-published book, “I am in the garden” – a charming memoir which I felt deserved a place in our bookcase. Shirley tells me she is working on a second book in a similar vein because she just loves writing. My latest visit to her garden is a memory that I want to hold on to.

Shirley’s outdoor dining set amused me because it is a clear example of what so many of us have found in this climate of regular rainfall and high humidity – if you leave your furniture outside all year round, the lichen takes over. I always console myself with the thought that lichen growth is apparently a sign of good air quality.

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.