Tag Archives: gardening with native plants

Mix and match

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.

It doesn't have to be all or nothing – using native plants in our gardens

A magnolia to the left and silver birch to the right, silhouetted against the winter sky

A magnolia to the left and silver birch to the right, silhouetted against the winter sky

Mark has been hiding indoors on bad weather days, watching Victory Gardens on the Living Channel. It is not that it is a very good American programme, he is just addicted to TV gardening. But he was a little shocked recently by presenter, Jamie Durie. Now we are not going to be critical of said Australian who has done a great deal to sex up gardening in his native land and who is a young man of considerable talent. He has also managed to cross over successfully to American TV and we love him because it was he who has twice promoted our very own Cordyline Red Fountain on the Oprah Winfrey Show. Our home grown gardening celebs, such as they are, don’t fall into the same league. I don’t think any of our local candidates would have an alternative career stripping for Manpower Australia. But I digress.

There was Jamie, talking with passion about Australian native plants, brandishing what looked suspiciously like a New Zealand cabbage tree. It was. Our most common cabbage tree is Cordyline australis, you see, but australis does not mean it comes from Australia. The kind interpretation is that our iconic tree is now Australasian, just as our soccer team briefly enjoyed that curious status. Australia does have its own members of the cordyline family including congesta, fruticosa and stricta, but australis is not among them. We are now wondering where Jamie Durie thinks Dicksonia antarctica hails from. It is the Tasmanian tree fern which is a close relation of our own ponga trees.

But at least Jamie avoids the dreary political correctness of a pretentious novel I was recently reading for review. Describing the Christchurch gardens of the relatively well-heeled, the author wrote: “Most of the gardens were populated with imported English varieties, but there were a couple of house owners who had made some effort with native New Zealand vegetation, and the dark greens and rich browns stood out among the bleak, bare branches of the non-native trees that seemed to claw at the grey air.”

I read this passage aloud to Mark who instantly demanded to know what native tree is a rich brown. Shades of green, dear, they are shades of green. I envisaged the PC Christchurch of the future where gardeners could only plant native trees – towering rimus, totara or kahikeatea, perhaps, which on a small town section will remove all winter sun and light from your neighbour’s property. Or maybe some of the smaller trees such as the interesting dracophyllums or nikau palms which, typically, are forest growers, designed to grow in company and with the protection of surrounding plants. Let’s be PC and maroon these forest dwellers in a sea of suburban grass.

Our native dracophyllum, better in company than marooned as a lawn specimen in solitary splendour

While we are about it, shall we eradicate all the imported fruit trees, veg plants and even the ubiquitous grass? We do have native grasses but they are not usually the ones found in lawns, on road verges or pasture. I am not sure that the author had any understanding at all of botany, let alone gardening. I would be guessing that her derisive reference to imported English varieties includes the cherry trees for which Christchurch is renowned (hailing from Japan), the deciduous magnolias (from Asia), dogwoods (cornus – mostly American) let alone the rest of the options from around the world. As you may have gathered, I regarded that particular passage as particularly ill-informed and downright silly.

I will absolutely stand up for the preservation (and preferably extension) of our remaining forest remnants where the eradication of competing imported species is important. I think defending our diversity of indigenous plant material is equally important. I think incorporating native plants into our public plantings is highly desirable and that our native flora has a key role in our domestic and private gardens. It is what makes us different. But I am not going to put our native plants on such a pedestal as to declare that, by definition, native equals good, imported equals bad and reactionary.

We are hardly living and gardening in an environment where our native plants originally thrived. New Zealand attitudes to our indigenous flora have waxed and waned in recent years. The early settlers often found the native forests intimidating which is to be understood when you consider that all our plants here are evergreen whereas the majority of both native and introduced trees in Britain are deciduous. The forest remnants I have seen there are what I would call woodland. Our bush is akin to impenetrable, tropical forest without the tropical temperatures. I imagine they were terrifying to people more accustomed to woods of white barked birches, sweet chestnut or oaks carpeted below with wild bluebells and snowdrops. No wonder they planted to remind themselves of home.

Even thirty years ago, there was a pretty large-scale dismissal of our native flora as dull, boring and not worthy of garden space. Native plants on sale were under-valued, so sold cheaply and seen as utility – a bit like riparian plantings today. All function and no aesthetics. Then came the big turnaround and suddenly native plants were all the rage. Led by government agencies, public plantings were heavily dominated by native plants. This crossed over to private gardens and planting native became the higher moral ground, a point of principle. A stream of Bright Young Things could be found browsing plant stocks, determined to buy and plant only natives. Though they would make an exception for an apple tree (from Central Asia), a macadamia (from Australia) or an olive tree from Greece. There was also a myth that you had to plant natives to feed our birds. In fact you have to plant the right plants to encourage birds and our indigenous birds are not fussy about whether it is a native or an introduced plant.

The author of whom I am so critical is caught in this PC time warp. As always, the answer lies in the middle ground. We have many fantastic native plants ideal for gardens. We also have boring, utility native plants ideal for land reclamation, shelter or nurse plants. But it doesn’t have to be all or nothing at a gardening level. It is the vast array of plant material that we can grow here, the mix of indigenous and introduced, which makes our gardens interesting. Those Christchurch houses so maligned for their plantings are probably much better served by deciduous specimen trees which allow light and winter sun through. We tend to have cold houses in this country and we don’t need to make them any colder by planting so that they are in the winter shadow of evergreens. Bare branches silhouetted against a winter sky can be seen as a beautiful tracery just as readily as the aforementioned bleak, bare claws. Long may common sense and aesthetics triumph over ignorance, however well intentioned and at least those Christchurch houses planted trees rather than keeping everything to under a metre in height.