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.
Not my efforts. I do not make cakes like this. These cakes are all the work of Rose Lawrence from the Garden Cake Kitchen
And lo, there will be cake.
On the first Sunday of the garden festival – 30 October – Rose from the Garden Cake Kitchen will have her wares for sale during the afternoon concert by La Mer. French Cafe-style music blended with gypsy swing and extravagant cake on our front lawn – what could be better? I admit that it would be better if we could guarantee a fine day because the concert is weather dependent, but that is beyond our control, alas.
Rose describes her cakes as “botanical-inspired, perfectly imperfect, and even more delicious than they look!” Rest assured that we will be carrying out some quality control testing.
To be honest, I am not even sure how one serves a slice of cake from this type of construction but fortunately, I will not be serving cake personally.
Rose will be selling her cakes by the slice and there will be a limited amount of gluten-free and vegan slices as well.
If you are coming to the Centuria Taranaki Garden Festival over that weekend, please join us on our front lawn. There is plenty of room. I have just posted a second video of La Mer’s music on my Facebook page here, to capture of the flavour of the music as well as the cakes.
The Sunday morning Nature Journaling workshop with Jennifer Duval-Smith has sold out but there are still a few spaces left in her other three worksops – Meadows and Wildflowers on Saturday 29 October, Grandeur and Glory of the Rhododendron on Tuesday 1 November and Flowers of the Early Summer Garden on Saturday 5 November. For more details and bookings, go to the festival website.
I picked a sampling of the smaller bulbs currently in flower yesterday morning, just before the rain returned
I was thinking about writing about rhododendrons this week. The big-leafed Rhododendron macabeanum that was *temporarily* heeled into the Iolanthe garden years ago, pending relocation to a more suitable spot, is looking absolutely splendid. It is clearly in its forever home where it is. And the firecracker R. spinuliferumnever fails to delight me, but the rain has returned, interfering with photo opportunities. Apparently four consecutive fine days is all we can expect. Besides, for all the grandeur and stature of the fine rhododendrons, it was the simple sight of a few flowering bulbs down in the Wild North Garden that gladdened my heart more.
A simple sight on an ongoing project but one that is delighting us all. Red valottas, moraeas and a dainty little yellow bulb that I have forgotten the name of but belongs to that babiana, sparaxia, valotta group of bulbs.
Have I mentioned before how much we love gardening with bulbs? Of course I have. The Wild North Garden is now largely the project of our garden apprentice, Zach. I give him surplus bulbs from the more cultivated house gardens that we think may be able to bed in and compete in the more naturalistic environment and he plants them where he thinks they may thrive.
The Narcissus bulbocodium were planted planted just last week but have already opened up their flowers
Zach has also been tidying and replanting the area where the fallen giant gum tree laid waste when it fell in Cyclone Dovi last February. Because there are enough trees and shrubs in the area that will recover over time, we have taken advantage of the more open conditions to thread rivers of surplus bulbs through below.
This is another gum tree – you can tell by the characteristic twist in the trunk – but fortunately it survived Cyclone Dovi and its falling neighbour.
Wilder areas need tough, robust bulbs that are capable of surviving competition. That means bluebells, snowflakes (leucojum), snowdrops, some of the vigorous smaller narcissi and lachenalias, peacock iris (Moraea villosa), valottas and the like. The more delicate, pernickety bulbs are given prime positions in well-tended areas like the rockery where we can guard them from being out-competed by stronger plants.
Moraea villosa and bulbocodiums in the rockery
There are too many freesias but we will relocate some and they are pretty on their day.
The most interesting bulbs also have back-ups kept in pots, sometimes in a covered house. They don’t get a lot of love and attention but the conditions mean they are more likely to survive and enable us to replenish the garden when they may have died out or to extend existing plantings. This is particularly true of some of the more interesting lachenalias, especially the blue forms.
Somewhere I have the name of this yellow tulip species. I am just not sure where. It does not exactlyy thrive here but it does keep returning each spring as long as it is given its own space. The white daffodil behind is ‘Thalia’.
It takes ongoing attention to keep the detail in a garden and it is the high level of detail that brings both Mark and me most pleasure and interest on a daily basis. Vistas, views and big pictures – a beautiful magnolia in full bloom or the aforementioned R. macbeanum – are great but they are only part of the gardening experience.
“Why do you like the dwarf narcissi?” Ruud Kleinpaste once asked Mark’s dad, Felix. when in the garden filming a story on magnolias for the TV garden programme hosted by Maggie Barry.
“Because they are small,” Felix replied.
I know exactly what he meant. I did, however, pop out briefly in the rain to snap the macabeanum for readers who prefer bigger, showier pictures.
Rhododendron macabeanum
The macabeanum was not supposed to stay in this position because it will grow a great deal larger over time but we will work around that as need be.
Heading down into the park, the flood waters are visible to the left
The rain started late on Tuesday and as I write this on Saturday, it seems to be stopping. Firstly, heartfelt sympathies to those up and down the country who have been badly affected – particularly the Nelson area and Northland where extensive damage has occurred.
The stone bridge is beneath that water
It isn’t the biggest flood we have had here but it is sizeable. We cope with our floods with resigned equanimity because they don’t threaten our house or property. We are not slip-prone and the house will never get flooded. The water comes up and up and then, because we have brilliant drainage on our volcanic soils, it goes down just as quickly when the rains stop. Others are not so lucky and we would be a great deal more stressed if we were faced with the devastation I see in other parts of the country.
What we refer to as the high bridge, which is not so high at the moment. Ralph is unphased by getting wet which makes a change from aquaphobic Dudley dog who heads indoors at the first raindrop.
Standing on the bridge, looking upstream
It is a huge issue in New Zealand where most settlement is around the coastline and often at the mouths of rivers so on the natural flood plain areas. It seems highly possible, if not probable, that torrential deluges are to become more common with climate change. This is not a comforting thought.
Confined indoors, I realise how much we live our lives out in the garden. I cleaned the oven instead and all I can say about that is my double width de Longhi wall oven is brilliant to use but was clearly designed by an Italian man who had never cleaned an oven in his life. I am not sure what to do with my time next if the weather doesn’t clear.
Maybe it is a good day to gather magnolia petals for a couple of jars of pickled magnolias. I was surprised last year at how easy these are to make and how delicious they are. They would be perfect to accompany rice paper rolls but we had already eaten them before I remembered to make the rolls again. If you want to try this at home, younger, smaller petals are best. They don’t keep their colour in the pickle so a pretty mix is not necessary. Keep to deciduous magnolias; michelia petals are not a nice flavour.
Out in the garden, I must acknowledge the resilience of the Dutch iris. These are not my favourite plant by any measure but the narcissi are bent double from the heavy rain, the magnolias and michelias are shedding petals everywhere, the camellias are browning on the bush while the Dutch iris stand firm and tall, unmarked by the rain. In the right place, they are a lovely addition to the early spring garden.
May the sun return for everyone this week. There is work to do in the garden.
The confluence of two streams entering our property. Despite the rain, you can see the stream to the right is reasonably clear water. This is because it has a long distance of riparian planting filtering the run-off before it enters the stream. The stream to the left is unfenced, unplanted and the water is running straight off grazed farmland, washing topsoil to the sea.
Tikorangi The Jury Garden 