Honeywort, Cerinthe major in my flower garden. — Honeywort, *Cerinthe major in my flower garden.*

I have this thing for purple flowers in all shades: lavender, plum, cerise, amethyst, violet, magenta, grape, lilac, grape and mauve. I'm very fond of dark red flowers too. There's ruby, scarlet, carmine, garnet, cherry, crimson, vermillion, carnelian, burgandy, wine, raspberry, blood and maroon.

Yesterday I weeded out lots of Flanders poppy seedlings, Papaver rhoeas, that had self-sown throughout the flower garden. I'd bought the seeds at the National Army Museum a number of years ago and scattered them in the garden. These were the same kind of poppies that grew on World War One battlefields, amongst the rubbish, barbed wire, human waste and blood.

Flanders poppies are beautiful. Their petals look like butterfly wings glued to thin green stalks. My poppies have set seed in a wide radius. There are plants sprouting up in cracks in the footpath and the nearby shared driveway. There are even poppies springing up in the lawn. There's something tenacious, optimistic and persistent about these plants. They're living proof that nature will conquer desolate times and places.

Unfortunately, in my flower garden these poppies look cheap and flimsy like plastic deck chairs. All the purple and dark red flowers make the warm red poppies look faded and cheap. I still have some poppy seed in a packet and am planning guerrilla gardener acts in public wastelands.

I have this long narrow courtyard that will soon need some plants. It used to be the top part of the driveway but it's in the process of being transformed. I fancy turning it into a leafy jungle. This is what it looks like at the moment.

My family had a holiday in Niue this winter. Niue is a raised coral atoll with a tropical climate. Its wild forests are dense jungles. Jungles, to my mind, are places with multiple layers of plants from the canopy trees like banyan to the ferns on the forest floor. Everything is overgrown and oversized: big leaves, big flowers, big seeds, big insects and vines that clamber up and smother. Jungles are dark damp places with dappled light. Green is the predominant colour.

Wellington isn't Niue. It has a mild, temperate marine, climate, and it's very windy. So how does an amateur gardener like me turn an unpromising site into a jungle?

A photograph of Will Giles's garden. in Norwich, east of England. Taken from the book 'Lessons From Great Gardeners' by Matthew Briggs. — A photograph of Will Giles's garden. in Norwich, east of England. Taken from the book 'Lessons From Great Gardeners' by Matthew Briggs.

The answer is Will Giles. He's one of the 40 gardening icons in a great little book of mine called 'Lessons From Great Gardeners' by Matthew Briggs. Will Giles is, or was - he died last year, an illustrator by training and a self taught gardener. Back in the 80s Will Giles got the idea of making an exotic garden after many travels to places like India and South America.

Unbeknown to me (until now), I had a book on my bookshelf written by Will Giles called 'The New Exotic Garden.' I'd bought it years ago in a book sale. In it are many photographs of his Norwich garden. I read the book last Saturday morning in one sitting. Will Giles encourages the reader to follow their crazy exotica dreams just as he did. 'There will always be someone who will tell you that something will not work, or cannot be done,' he tells the reader. 'My philosophy is to do it and find out for yourself whether it works.'

Will Giles was a big fan of the book by Myles Challis called 'The Exotic Garden', which was published in 1988. There are several photographs of Myles Challis's garden in Will Giles's book, like the one below, which occupies an area of 6 x 12 metres.

A photograph of Myles Challis's exotic garden in the book by Will Giles.

My courtyard will need layers of plants if it's to look like a jungle: tall skinny ones, fat drooping ones, medium sized pert ones, exotic looking grasses and plants with leaves like swords, low spreading plants, plants with huge fleshy leaves, ferns, invasive creepers and a few oversized or exotic-looking flowers. I want an open mind. I'll consider anything that is hardy and looks the part. Here's a list of possible contenders (most come from Will Giles's directory of exotic plants in his book): Acanthus, Euphorbia, Hosta, Melianthus major, Ricinus communis, Cynara scolymus (globe artichoke), Miscanthus sacchariflorus (tall flowering grass), Solenostemon scutellarioides (coleus), Chamaerops humilis (dwarf fan palm), Canna, Astelia chathamica, Strelitzia reginae (bird of paradise), Zantedeschia aethiopica 'Crowborough' (arum lilies), Brugmansia, Amaranthus caudatus, Aeonium arboreum, Clivia miniata, Cobaea scandens (cup and saucer plant), Clematis armandii (evergreen clematis), Bergenia, Musa basjoo (banana), Griselinia, Fatsia japonica, Helleborus (hellebore), Cyperus papyrusdaylilies, Hemerocallis (daylily), Camellia, grasses and ferns...

Comfrey, Symphytum officinale — Comfrey, *Symphytum officinale*

Knitbone is a another name for comfrey. Personally I think knitbone to be a far superior name and encourage everyone to start using it. Two years ago I planted comfrey around the base of my small apple tree and last summer it became a jungle and took over an entire area, putting roses, sedum, catmint and lavender in the dark. It's just started to sprout again after a winter hibernation. A couple of days ago I dug up most of the comfrey and threw it on my pruning pile. It's roots look like rat tails and creep me out.

I knew that comfrey was invasive before I planted it. I just didn't know how much. Bergamot and lemon balm are two other herbs that have quick spreading habits, which I've had to cull. Organic gardeners rave about comfrey. You can use the leaves as a mulch for growing plants or to make a high protein liquid fertilizer. I planted comfrey so that I could use the leaves to wrap around my seed potatoes. I'd read somewhere that it helped grow better and tasiter crops. It never worked out that way for me.

For years I've grown Jersey Benne potatoes in pots. They are an early summer cropper. Comfrey dies down over winter. By the time there are enough leaves to wrap around the seed potatoes the Jersey Bennes have been buried in the ground for over a month.

Despite its invasiveness I've grown fond of comfrey. Deni Brown, in her book Herbal, said it wasn't very ornamental and suggested growing it near the compost heap. I beg to differ. I like its long narrow hairy leaves and small pink pendulous flowers. I like the way it suddenly emerges from the bare soil at the end of winter and takes over an entire area of the garden with such exurbarance. I've moved a comfrey plant to the edge of the meadow, in partial shade, where dock plants have taken over. I look forward to following its progress.

Since way back, the roots and leaves of comfrey plants have been used as a medicinal herb to treat ailments of the skin. It is now used in the dermatological industry as an astringent and an anti-inflammatory lotion and now in anti-ageing products. It's considered something of a wonder plant because it contains something called allantoin. When its applied to the skin it penetrates right down to the bones and stimulates the growth of new cells. I guess that's why it used to be called knitbone.

I'm keen to try out comfreys healing properties, seeing that it's been well researched and documented by scientists, not just new-age witch doctors.

The two easiest recipes, apart from making a poultice by pounding fresh comfrey leaves, are as follows.

Comfrey Infusion

Put 115 g of fresh comfrey leaves in a teapot (or pot) and pour over 470 ml of boiling water (purified or mineral). Cover and leave to infuse for 3 hours. Then strain it. You can mix the cold infusion with equal amounts of honey, brewers yeast, yoghurt and olive oil to make a face mask. Or, you can add 6 tablespoons of it to 4 tablespoons of glycerine to make a toner.

Comfrey Oil

Pick lots of comfrey leaves. Make sure they aren't damp or they will rot.
Dry the leaves in a warm dry place for half a day or until the edges of the leaves are crispy.
Stuff a glass jar full of comfrey leaves and add olive oil up to the brim. Then seal and label the jar.
Rest the jar for 6 weeks on a saucer, tending it a few times a day. Remove the lid and prod the leaves. Then replace the lid.
Strain the leaves after 6 weeks. The oil is ready to use.

Finally I've gotten around to planting some of the seeds for the meadow. I've turned my front porch into a greenhouse. I cut a plastic milk bottle into rectangles and used these as labels. I planted Cleome spinosa, Orlaya grandiflora white lace, Daucus carota 'Purple Kisses' ornamental carrot, Ammi majus bishop's flower, Nicotiana sylvestris and Lunaria annua honesty. As you can see I haven't covered my seed trays with glass or plastic. Maybe this will turn out to be a terrible mistake. I'll know soon enough.

There have been some changes in one part of the the meadow. The orchard part. This is where I planted the nameless pear tree, which is now flowering.

I planted 2 Griselina littoralis 'Broadway Mint' plants up by the wooden fence. Eventually they will grow to be 9x3 metres, or so the plant label says. I have 4 red currant bushes along the brush fencing; I bought 2 and was given 2 by a friend. These are supposed to grow to a height of 1 metre. I chose these fruit bushes becasue they will grow in semi-shade and will, one day, turn into a hedge and screen the brush fencing. This garden is a hotch potch of plants. There is dill, calendula, spring onions, foxgloves and rhubarb (which you couldn't call a meadow plant but there was nowhere else to put it).

This week in the garden...

Angelica archangelica (angelica) — *Angelica archangelica* (angelica)

Euphorbia amygdaloides (I think) — *Euphorbia amygdaloides* (I think)

Chartreuse is another of my favourite colours. It's the colour of spring. It's made up of 50% green and 50% yellow.