Our native red tussock (Chionochloa rubra) with the Eurepean ox-eye daisy (Leucanthemum vulgare)
We visit Australia fairly frequently on account of all three of our children living there these days and their native birds never fail to astonish me. Big, brash, vibrant, colourful and varied, they have an astonishing range of exotic birds. Aotearoa New Zealand also has a huge range of native birds but ours are far more restrained. Our iconic kiwi is, after all, all brown, lives on the ground and only comes out at night so is rarely seen in the wild. Most of our birds are in muted colours and need the light or a closer view to catch the iridescence in the feathers or the charming fluffy chests. But our birds sing sweetly whereas those brash Aussie birds squawk raucously.
Our tui at the top – and I admit it can look plain black with just a white fluffy pompom at its throat without the light coming at the right angle; just one flock of Australia’s showy parrots below
So too, are our native plants of a more restrained persuasion in the showy, flowering stakes. Many of our natives have very small flowers while those of a bolder persuasion can have very short flowering seasons. A kowhai (Sophora commonly tetraptera) is spectacular but only for a week or 10 days if we are lucky. Similarly, our iconic pohutukawa (Metrosideros excelsa) is but brief in its Christmas raiment. We have very few native bulbs and we lack the range of flowering native perennials that many countries have.
Not a native forest at all but our Rimu Walk which we often describe as sub-tropical woodland and where exotic bromeliads are a dominant planting. But the big trees are rimu (Dacrydium cupressinum) and you can see both tree ferns and Dracophyllum latifolium – all native and it is our indigenous vegetation which forms the backbone and much of the canopy for the exotic imports below.
Our native forests are commonly referred to as ‘bush’ in this country but really, it is better to think of those remnants of original vegetation as neither bush nor forest but more as cool-climate jungle. At least it is jungle without snakes or other threatening wild life. The risks in our native bush are more to do with getting lost, falling over concealed cliffs or making very slow progress through dense growth in areas where deer, possums, pigs and goats (all introduced animals) have been kept under control.
Our native Chionochloa flavicans (sometimes referred to as ‘miniature toetoe’) in the foreground backed by Stipa gigantea and more ox-eye daisies because they are most rewarding in the flowering stakes if cut back regularly.
What we DO have in this country is a large range of very distinctive and unique plants – trees, shrubs and grasses – which are remarkable in their foliage, form and structure in the garden. Many are highly prized overseas – including our tree ferns, flaxes, grasses, cordylines and hebes.
I like foxgloves which have a wide natural spread in Europe, North Africa and western Asia but I don’t like them in the common deep pink shades. What I like even more is how our Chionochloa rubra combines with seasonal flowers. As the season progresses, the giant inula, single dahlias and helianthus will take over from the foxgloves and verbascums.
We have always opted for a mid-line in gardening terms – using native plants but in conjunction with exotics. A few purists may go native only with the pinnacle of moral rectitude being eco-sourced plants from the local environment, while at the other end of the scale are those who eschew natives as ‘boring’.
The showy Verbascum creticum – from Crete – with phormiums which are commonly referred to ‘coloured flaxes’ here
I was looking at the combinations of flowers and foliage that pleased me in the Court Garden and it is that mix of native and exotic. Of the structural plants I chose, nine are native and seven are exotic but all the pretty filler flowers that lift the scene are exotic. That was not by deliberate design although I did lean towards native grasses where I had a choice. I think it shows how effective some of our native plants are as bold, structural statements and how we make up for what we lack in showy flowers with some top-notch grasses.
Left to right, we have my favourite Chionochloa rubra, Astelia chathamica (both natives), Elegia Capenis from South Africa and Miscanthus ‘Morning Light from eastern Asia.
There is plenty of material to work with. Gardens do not generally replicate the natural environment but I find incorporating a range of our native plants satisfying in a faintly patriotic way. It is of course the access to a wider range of our unique native flora that makes NZ gardens different to those around the world. And when all is said and done, flowers are seasonal and ephemeral whereas form, substance and structure is with us all year round. Because our native plants are evergreen, they are ideal for filling that role.
My constant companion is Ralph, who is sniffing out rabbit trails here, so I end up with rather a lot of photos of his rear end disappearing under foliage. In this photo is Chionochloa rubra with our toetoe (Austroderia fulvida) behind. These native grasses make splendid garden plants where there is sufficient space.
First published in the September 2022 issue of Woman magazine
“… an ecologically dead status symbol.” Douglas W. Tallamy
Let’s talk about lawns.
I remember doing a profile on a gardening couple who took great pride in their lawn. “Visitors say they just want to take their shoes off and luxuriate in the grass,” declared the lawn man of the pair. I had taken my gardening and life partner, Mark, along for moral support and as soon as we were safely in the car and departing, he expostulated, “People want to let their bare skin touch that?”
We both knew what sort of chemical arsenal was used to achieve a lawn that looked like green velvet and we would not be wanting our skin touching it. It is a value that originates from American suburbia – all those perfect street frontages – and I am not sure that is of merit.
There is the perfect lawn and then there is mown grass. It is many years since Mark declared that he would not routinely spray the lawn to try and keep it to the chosen grass varieties that give a handsome sward. As long as it was small-leafed, green and able to be mown, that was fine. I notice that it is me, not him, who goes around on my hands and knees rooting out the flat weeds but the excessive daisies, dandelions and docks worry me more than him.
I would make an exception if we had small children in our lives. I might then agitate for spraying Onehunga weed, or prickle weed as it is often called. It makes going barefooted unpleasant. If you are going to resort to spraying it, you need to understand that it germinates in winter, grows madly all spring and, when the prickles appear in summer, it has already set its seed and the plant will die so there is no point at all in spraying at that time. You need to spray in spring when it is in full growth to break the seeding cycle and you will need to do it for several years as dormant seeds will keep germinating.
If you are not keen on spraying, you can let the grass grow long in the spring flush which will force the Onehunga weed to grow taller to reach the light. Then set the mower level lower than usual and you will be cutting off most of the Onehunga weed before it has a chance to flower and seed.
Our front lawn, seen here in autumn, is a fairly major feature and I wasn’t sure about letting it grow wild.
What about not mowing at all? It is a controversial position to take in an urban setting. We recently let our front lawn grow over summer and there is no doubt it is alive with bees and butterflies when in flower. The Californian quail love it too with its abundance of seed. Our main interlopers are clover, lotus major and self-heal (Prunella vulgaris) which means it flowers pink, white, yellow and blue. Mark refers to it as a low meadow.
Mowing the perimeter of the lawn and paths gave instant form to what would otherwise look unkempt. It would look better had we raked the paths or collected the clippings as well. The mulcher mower was not equal to the sheer volume of grass to be cut down on this occasion.
Because our front lawn is quite a major statement, it worried me when it looked …. well… rank and unloved in the early stages. I had a stroke of genius, drawing on what I had seen overseas, and asked for a double width to be mown around the perimeter and our most used paths across the lawn to be mown, again a generous two mower widths wide. It made all the difference visually and transformed it from unmown lawn to managed meadow. We kept it that way until the flowering was finished and then cut it all down again.
Our ‘low meadow’ in full flower
On the topic of mowing, get yourself a mulcher mower that chomps up the clippings to a fine tilth that is absorbed back into the grass. It means you don’t ever need to feed your lawn with nitrogen fertiliser again and it makes mowing faster without faffing around with lawn clippings which are the bane of landfill. The only reason lawns need fertilising is because constant mowing and collecting the clippings strips out any goodness and doesn’t allow for a natural cycle of replenishment. We haven’t fed our lawns for years, maybe even decades, but they remain green, well-covered and healthy simply because we use a mulcher mower.
If you choose to spray your lawn, then at least educate yourself as to what the active ingredients are and choose accordingly. There are more environmentally friendly options coming available but lawn sprays in the past – some of which will still be in garden sheds around the country and some may still be available – were a toxic brew.
Contrary to widespread opinion in NZ, this is not a wildflower meadow. It is a pretty sowing of annuals in a casual style and is not an easy-care alternative to lawn.
Proper meadows and wildflowers are a whole different topic. When wildflowers are mentioned, most people think of wildflower seed mixes – the ones that are soldier poppies, cornflowers, cosmos, daisies white and daisies yellow and a whole lot more. Pretty though they can be at their peak, they are neither meadow nor wildflower, or certainly not our wildflowers. Essentially it is gardening with annuals and such plantings are generally short-lived and need quite a bit of work to stop them deteriorating to a flattened, weedy mess. There are alternative approaches but they are not an easy answer and take a much higher level of gardening skill than a simple lawn requires.
What does a lawn achieve? If you are the sort of family who gets out for wholesome games in the garden, be it backyard cricket, rugby, badminton or even croquet, then yes, the lawn provides a suitable recreational space. Most of us persist with lawns long past the time when we have children frolicking outdoors, assuming they ever did.
Mondo grass creates a green breathing space that is every bit as effective as mown grass.
I came to the conclusion that there are two reasons for lawns. The first is practical; they are lower maintenance than most styles of garden. The second reason is aesthetic; an expanse of mown grass gives a breathing space in a garden and can frame the more detailed, decorative areas. The mistake is to think that you can only get that breathing space with a lawn. There are other ways and it doesn’t have to be the courtyard approach of paving or decking. I remember Gil Hanly’s garden in Auckland where she created a simple breathing space with green mondo grass beneath palm trees. It would have been lower maintenance than mown grass and, in a highly detailed garden with lots of colour, it gave that space to draw breath and relax.
In the end, lawns are on a spectrum. At the extreme end are the lawn fanatics who will de-thatch, aerate (because they have killed off the earthworms), core, oversow, irrigate, use sprays frequently, fertilise extensively and mow every day or every second day to maintain a perfect velvet monoculture comparable to a bowling green. I see this as an environmental travesty and a political statement from people who are proudly declaring total control and supremacy over nature by every means in their chemical and mechanical arsenals.
At the other end of the scale are those who either dispense with lawns entirely or simply give up mowing. There is a lot of room to move in between those two extremes where most of us can find a level which sits better with us in environmental, aesthetic and practical terms.
There is a different charm to a casual seating arrangement in long grass rather than on mown lawn although my practical side says this probably works better in a drier climate.
We just need to stop thinking of one end as admirable and aspirational and the other end as disgraceful and lazy. Nature would prefer it if more of us were inclined to land on the laissez faire end of the spectrum.
“Over three-quarters of all garden chemicals sold in Britain are for the improvement of our lawns.” The Curious Gardener’s Almanac by Niall Edworthy (2006)
Once was mown lawn at RHS Rosemoor. English friends tell me that the sight of mown grass in public parks and gardens is increasingly rare
Today is brought to you by the colour lilac. Well, mostly lilac but also leaning towards purple, pink and blue. It is a colour I love although I can not think it is a colour I ever wear in clothing so maybe I only love it in the garden.
Primula denticulata
The Primula denticulata have been bringing me pleasure for weeks. We were given seedlings of it a couple of years ago. While the ones I planted in the Iolanthe Garden have largely survived, they are clearly not as happy in the sunny conditions there because these ones in heavier soil and partial shade have romped away with enthusiasm and are putting on a good show.
The ‘pink’ form of the Spanish bluebell is more mauve than pink
The lilac bluebells are commonly referred to as pink but really they are more mauve than pink, I think. This week we have swathes or drifts of bluebells blooming in various areas and I forgive them for their weedy, seeding ways. They do need to be actively managed, however, or they will take over in quick time. The white and mauve-pink bluebells are a delightful addition to the blue but in moderation – overall, think about 70% blue to 30% of the other two colours. If you have all white, people may mistake it for onion weed. The fact that the flower spikes are standing up straight tell you that these are Spanish bluebells, not the more desirable English species. Besides, only the Spanish ones come in colours other than blue.
A neoregelia, I think
This week has seen me working my way along beneath the Rimu Avenue at precisely the same time I did the big sweep through last year – five weeks before we open for the Centuria Taranaki Garden Festival. I like the look of the bromeliads and the atmosphere they lend to this woodland area but I don’t like having to handle them on account of many of them being prickly, very prickly in some cases.
Pleione orchids on the shadier side of the sunken garden
As garden plants, the pleiones need good drainage and a location where they will not get swamped by their neighbours
In the sunken garden, the pleione orchids are in full bloom. They don’t last as long as the cymbidiums and dendrobiums but they are an obliging seasonal pleasure which don’t require much attention year on year. Most of ours came from the late George Fuller and are his named hybrids although we have lost track of the names since George died. This one may, however, be the one he called ‘Lilac Beauty’ if the depths of my memory serve me right.
Just an unnamed seedling but from a controlled cross
I post this photo of a pretty, lilac rhododendron less for the flower but so those in the know can admire the clean foliage. Back when we had the nursery and rhododendrons were a popular line, Mark spent some seasons breeding to get plants with full, ball trusses which keep healthy foliage. Burned or silver foliage (from thrips) is all too common in our humid, mild conditions and this plant has never seen even a whiff of spray but keeps excellent foliage. He succeeded – and with plants which flower in various colours – but too late for both our nursery and for public demand which had fallen away. None have been named or released and it is frankly not worth it commercially so we just get to enjoy them ourselves. For rhododendron lovers, this lilac one is ‘Susan’ X R. metternichii.
Lachenalia glaucina happily ensconced and multiplying well in the rockery
The later flowering lachenalias are in full bloom. Of the so-called blues, we have most success with Lachenalia orchioides ssp glaucina in the garden. Some of the less common varieties are not overly vigorous and this is one plant family that Mark tries to keep going with back-ups grown in pots under cover so we can keep the range going.
Lachenalias are much more varied than many realise, although not easy to source in this country
For those who have only seen the common orange and red form (Lachenalia aloides but still occasionally misnamed as Lachenalia pearsonii in this country) the huge range of other lachenalias may come as a surprise. They are native to South Africa and Namibia. We collected every obscure species we could find but they are very mixed and the names have never been particularly accurate because there is a lot of variation even within the same species.
Lachenalia aloides vanzyliae to the left and we are unsure of the identity to the right
Finally, off the lilac theme, I was looking at the lachenalias and picked these two. The one on the left is a variation on the most common species – the red and orange one that I think looks like a garish plant you might buy from The Warehouse – but in this case is Lachenalia aloides vanzyliae. It is nowhere near as vigorous as its less refined sibling. Of course it isn’t, the desirable plants never are, but it is so pretty and distinctive. The one on the right is mislabelled as L. arbuthnotiae but that may well be our mistake. Looking on line, I wonder if it is L. pustulata despite the lack of pustules on the leaves which generally give a characteristic warty look but maybe some reader with more expertise will know? It is a pretty and unusual colour combination, with good, strong stems.
Magnolia laveifolia (formerly Michelia yunnanensis) was alive with bees in the spring sunshine. Many very busy bees
I took this photo on Thursday morning when the joy of a blue sky and bright sun made the whole world seem a better place. I admit that feeling was brief. An hour later, it clouded over, the temperature dropped and then it rained, remaining patchy rain, cloud and sun for the rest of the day. Such is a typical spring day here in the antipodes. Our weather is very changeable.
But how pretty is Magnolia laevifolia? You may know it – as we used to when it first became available in Aotearoa New Zealand and we produced it commercially in the nursery – as Michelia yunnanensis. I think it is still widely sold by that earlier classification but genetic testing moved all michelias into the magnolia group.
This specimen only ever gets an occasional tidy-up of wayward branches
This particular one is named ‘Velvet and Cream’ and is a selection made and released by Peter Cave, back in the early 1990s. There are countless other named selections around, both in this country and overseas because this is a plant species that sets prolific amounts of seed. For a while it seemed as though every man, woman and their dog had named a selection. Even Mark picked one out – more honey coloured than cream or white and he named it ‘Honey Velvet’.
We have two reasonably prominent plants of ‘Velvet and Cream’ and after a period of time, they are both attractive small trees. As far as we can remember, both were planted maybe 25 years ago but they achieved that small tree stature within 10 or 15 years. We could have clipped them hard and kept them down to shrub level had we chosen to, but their natural instinct is to grow a little larger than most people expect – but not too large.
Leafy and flowering this week and clearly more small tree than large shrub – Magnolia laevifolia. One year after a major prune.
I also wanted to show the effect of hard pruning on the second plant which is a central specimen in the front lawn. We don’t generally go for specimen plants in our lawns but this is a legacy installation that dates back to Mark’s parents creating a minor garden feature around a small millwheel and stone trough from the early colonial days of New Plymouth. See it leafy and flowering.
One year ago. Apologies for the low-grade photo which is not mine. I am sure I have a better one somewhere but I can’t find it. This plant is NOT deciduous. It has just been pruned very hard indeed.
Last spring in mid October, it received a severe prune. M. laevifolia has a tendency to defoliate – drop all its leaves – in a wet spring and we get plenty of those. Last year, its flowering was patchy and it had dropped pretty much all its leaves. It was looking twiggy, overgrown and pretty much dead, to the inexperienced eye at least. We thought it would be better to cut it back hard and emphasise its natural form. What a difference a year can make.
This type of drastic pruning and shaping also works on camellias and indeed loropetalums but not on every plant. It is do or die on rhododendrons (some will respond with vigour and some will die) but it will kill most conifers because they don’t sprout from bare wood. You really need to know the capacity of the plant to regenerate and to push growth buds out from the trunk and stems before you start.
While the flowering of the deciduous magnolias this year is patchy yet again (we are blaming La Nina with frequent heavy downpours and too many spoiled blooms hanging on the branches), the michelias bloom on unscathed.
The countdown is on. This time in seven weeks, we will have the garden open and be in the thick of the garden festival – the Centuria Taranaki Garden Festival to give its full name. We are at that stage of preparation where I am paralysed into dithering inaction and displacement behaviour in the face of how much I want to get done. I am sure others will recognise this state.
Camellia nitidissima on the left but what is the rather different one on the right?
Even the growth habit is markedly different, which is why it had never occurred to me that it may be another yellow species
I was delighted but puzzled this week to find a camellia that turned out to be one of the yellow species that I didn’t even know we had and that was flowering for the first time. It must be a good 25 years old. We have three other yellow species that bloom and they all have very similar characteristics – pretty rangy growth, small bright yellow flowers in a lantern shape and large, heavy textured leaves. I was trimming back this other plant to make space for the yellow C. nitidissima beside it that was reaching for light, thinking it must just be one of Mark’s seedlings that was very shy on setting flower buds but filling a role in a boundary screen planting. Part way through, I noticed a flower and it was yellow. I promptly felt like a vandal, cutting back the very first flowering, and I looked ruefully at the buds on the branches I had removed with what I now saw as typical flower buds of the yellow species – like little covered buttons.
Its identification is still a bit of a mystery to us. We have lost the label down the years and Mark never kept an accession book. It came from Neville Haydon at Camellia Haven and he will only have had a very limited number of the yellow species that he sold commercially all those years ago. We have C. impressinervis, C. euphlebia and two forms of C. nitidissima syn chrysantha. There is a possibility that this new one, which is quite different, may be C. indochinensis var. tunghinensis. If anybody can confirm this or has past copies of Neville’s catalogue, we would like to hear from you.
As far as I know, these yellow species are not available commercially in this country any more. They are also more interesting – thrilling, even, for plant collectors – than showy as a garden plant. And tropical.
Camellia Hakuhan-kujaku with its willow-like leaves
While on camellias, behold the flowers of ‘Hakuhan-kujaku’, also known as the peacock camellia from Japan. It is another one that is more curious than showy, mostly because we find it shy on flowering in a plant genus that is largely grown for generous floral display. But we like it for its pendulous growth habit, its willowy foliage and its understated charm.
The attractive seedpods from Castanospermum australe or the Moreton Bay chestnut
I have to use the zoom on my camera to catch the summer flowers on the castanospermum because they are a long way up
I couldn’t resist doing a small arrangements of seed pods which are extremely decorative. These are from Castanospermum australe, also known as the Black Bean Tree or Moreton Bay Chestnut. Our climate being distinctly cooler than Moreton Bay in Queensland, we don’t get the same level of flowering that it has in its native habitat but we get enough blooms to set plenty of seed and they are as attractive as the flowers, in their own way.
A glimpse of the range of colour, size and form in Mark’s michelia seedlings
Mark’s michelia seedlings from his breeding programme are all flowering and we are monitoring them closely for any that may be good enough to add to his Fairy Magnolia series. I picked a range of flowers to entertain a northern hemisphere magnolia Facebook page that I belong to. There are many more factors than just a pretty flower when it comes to selecting a plant to release. What is interesting about these is that he started with hardy michelias that are basically all white or cream, bar one that has recessive colour genes in it. There are colourful tropical species but he has never been interested in using them because he is trying to get hardier selections for colder climates, not more tender ones. It has taken a number of generations of hybrids to get this range in colour and form and is an ongoing project. Most of them have strong scent, so that is encouraging because fragrance had disappeared from some of the earlier generations of these breeding lines.
Lloyd is trimming the totara hedge which is now about 120 years old. This is trimming or clipping and a task that Lloyd carries out with sharp precision, using measuring poles and stringlines.
This week has been all about pruning and trimming here. Were we not opening the garden soon, we might have waited a little longer until flowering was over on some of the plants but needs must. And I am reminded of the advice from friend and colleague, Glyn Church, not to leave this task too late because the birds are all starting to nest.
Zach is pruning – carefully assessing each plant and removing growth to achieve the pleached or two dimensional effect we want here. Pruning does not cut the foliage and should be largely invisible to the casual eye as soon as the plants make spring growth. Really I wanted a photo of Zach with all his ladders – I think I have seen him using up to 3 at a time – but I wasn’t going to make him move them just to get into the shot. This is a platform ladder which makes it far more comfortable to stand on for detailed pruning at height.
A reminder about the difference between trimming, clipping and pruning. Trimming uses hedge clippers or trimmers and the individual leaves end up being cut, so we keep it to smaller-leafed plants like the totara hedge or the small-leafed camellias we have used for hedging. Pruning is done with secateurs and a handsaw. It takes a lot longer and is all about shaping but it doesn’t cut and bruise the foliage so we do this with the michelias and the camellias with larger foliage. Hacking is bad pruning.
We bought a new hedgetrimmer – a battery powered Makita where the same battery and charger can be used on multiple other pieces of equipment. There was much amusement at the range mentioned in the instruction booklet. A heated jacket, maybe? Or how about a portable coffee machine? But what really took our fancy was the electric wheelbarrow. That would make getting back up from the park or the Wild North Garden with a full barrow much easier at the end of a day’s work.
Tikorangi The Jury Garden 