I haven't done a lot of gardening in the last 2 weeks. I feel bad about this, so guilty that I'm overcome with inertia. Sometimes, when there isn't the time or the motivation to get out into the garden the only thing left is to read. And that's exactly what I've done. I've been reading garden magazines, gardening books and browsing gardening sites on the internet.
The Garden Edit is an inspirational site, if you like excellent garden photography, which I do. Click on their 'Journal' page and you can be transported to different parts of the world.
In my local forest, where I run with my dog most days, are hundreds of toadstools. They appear every autumn.
Toadstool, March 2018.
They arrive mysteriously. One day there's bare ground and the next day there's a toadstool or a group of them. Some look like cheap theatre props cut out of polystyrene and others, with their pixie-red hats covered in bread crumbs, look straight out of the The Magic Faraway Tree. Either way they don't look real. They've been growing in my garden too and in the Wellington Botanic Garden.
I know this is going to sound a bit stupid, but what exactly are toadstools? Are they different to mushrooms, and are they plants? I turned to the internet for some quick answers.
Toadstools, March 2018.
I've always thought that the difference between toadstools and mushrooms is that one was poisonous and one was edible. I was wrong (botanically speaking) because toadstools are, in fact, mushrooms. The name toadstool is a common name, whereas mushroom is a scientific name. Mushrooms are a particular group of fungi. The other groups are molds, mildews, rusts, yeasts and, my favourite fungi name, smuts.
Fungi (plural of fungus) are simple aerobic organisms that belong to the kingdom 'fungi'. Toadstools (mushrooms) are not plants, nor are molds, mildews, rusts, yeasts or smuts. They used to be classified as plants, but got chucked out of the plant group because they're missing a few important things that plants have, namely chlorophyll, roots and leaves. Also, they can't make their own food as plants can. Toadstools (like all fungi) get their food from dead organic matter. They're the vultures of the plant world. Out of the 70,000 different types of fungi only some are edible, all the rest are poisonous. So you really need to know your mushrooms from your toadstools.
Fungi, Wellington Botanic Garden, April, 2018.
I'm reading a book called 'Vita Sackville-West's Sissinghurst,' which you'd think would've motivated me to get out into the garden. Sissinghurst, as I'm sure you know, is a famous garden in Kent made by Vita Sackville-West and her husband Harold Nicolson. They started the garden in the 1930s and it's considered to be one of the most romantic gardens in the world. I look at my own small suburban garden and think, 'what's the point?' Maybe I can blame my inertia on Vita S-W.
The book I'm reading is written by Sarah Raven who is a garden writer (and gardener) and has had the privilege of living at Sissinghurst, thanks to her husband being the son of Vita and Harold's son Nigel. This gives her book a unique perspective. Sarah Raven has mined Vita S-W's garden writing and has included generous and insightful excerpts.
I'm only halfway through the book, but it's clear to me that Vita's most important gardening advice is to 'cram, cram, cram.' She liked lushness and wildness, a sense of plants clambering and spilling over things and being exuberant - in a carefully controlled way of course. Vita experimented with lesser known plants as well as plants that had become unfashionable. She took a plant as she found it and if she found it to have a dashing wildness, a faded grandeur, a pretty innocence, a delicious scent or it made a beautiful marriage with another plant, then she made room for it.
Vita used every available space to grow plants. She was a big fan of covering walls with climbers.
Sissinghurst: the courtyard, photograph from the book, Vita's Other World - A Gardening Biography of V. Sackville-West, by Jane Brown.
Sissinghurst: the Nuttery underplanted with polyanthus. The photograph is from the book, Vita's Other World - A Gardening Biography of V. Sackville-West, by Jane Brown.
Sissinghurst: the herb garden. The photograph is from the book, Vita's Other World - A Gardening Biography of V. Sackville-West, by Jane Brown.
Vita was an artist who painted and sculpted with plants. Her starting point was always an image or feeling she wanted to create. The starting point for the rose garden, for example, was a Persian rug. Once a garden was established she continued to modify it: adding and taking away plants, clipping, chopping, tweaking. Always trying to improve the shape of a plant or uncover a hidden plant or view. Vita tried to marry plants the way a painter marries colour. She preferred blocks of colour rather than having a colour dotted about. There were some plants that she was crazy about, such as magnolias and old fashioned roses, which were planted wherever she could fit them.
Roses - hybrid musk and other old-fashioned varieties. The photograph is from the book, Vita's Other World - A Gardening Biography of V. Sackville-West, by Jane Brown.
Roses in the flower border. The photograph is from the book, Vita's Other World - A Gardening Biography of V. Sackville-West, by Jane Brown.
Sissinghurst was divided into smaller gardens ( I refuse to use that much maligned phrase 'garden rooms') and separated with walls, hedges, trees and large shrubs. Vita's husband, Harold Nicholson was responsible for the overall design of Sissinghurst, whereas Vita was in charge of the planting. Each section of the garden was intimate, designed for contemplation and relaxation. Sissinghurst, unlike so many big English gardens, wasn't created as a status symbol, but as a sanctuary for Vita, Harold and their two boys.
Aerial photograph of Sissinghurst, July 1932. Vita and Harold had owned it for two years. The photograph is from the book, Vita's Other World - A Gardening Biography of V. Sackville-West, by Jane Brown.
A plan of Sissinghurst drawn by Stuart and Christine Page, completed between 1945 -1954. This plan and the aerial photograph are roughly facing the same direction. The photograph is from the book, Vita's Other World - A Gardening Biography of V. Sackville-West, by Jane Brown.
The Buildings: 3-The Big Room, 4-Vita's Tower, 8-The South Cottage and its garden, 18-The Priest's House.
The Sissinghurst castle (Vita's Tower) on a summer's afternoon in the 1950s. The photograph is from the book, Vita's Other World - A Gardening Biography of V. Sackville-West, by Jane Brown.
The Rondel and its surrounding roses. The photograph is from the book, Vita's Other World - A Gardening Biography of V. Sackville-West, by Jane Brown.
The South Cottage garden in June. The photograph is from the book, Vita's Other World - A Gardening Biography of V. Sackville-West, by Jane Brown.
Sissinghurst Crescent in spring, with South Cottage in the background. The seat looks down the Moat Walk. The photograph is from the book, Vita's Other World - A Gardening Biography of V. Sackville-West, by Jane Brown.
The Moat Walk in spring, 1975. The photograph is from the book, Vita's Other World - A Gardening Biography of V. Sackville-West, by Jane Brown.
What does all of this mean for the ordinary suburban gardener? Well, the ordinary gardener has a choice: to slavishly copy a Sissinghurst design and planting scheme, albeit a Lilliput version, or they can copy the spirit in which the garden was made. Sarah Raven called it 'fine carelessness'. I'd call it bohemian. If you're someone who likes following instructions then bohemian gardening isn't for you. If, however, you're a lover of wildness, beauty and adventures then bohemian gardening could be just what you are looking for. It's the learn as you go method, for lovers of plants.
Always start with a dream, a vision, a feeling. Begin your garden at the tree and shrub level and work your way down to smaller plants. Always have a clear vision of what it is you want to create - be it a leafy jungle heavy with scent or a dappled woodland with meandering paths. Maybe you were inspired by a Rousseau painting of a jungle, or the colours at a beach you love, maybe you grew up beside a meadow and dream about tall grasses and umbellifers dancing in the breeze. Maybe you long for a Marrakesh courtyard with palms and fountains or a rockery or a sunken garden.
The ordinary gardener must dream big because their reality is full of limitations and compromises. There will always be unsightly walls to cover or ugly gas meters to hide. There will be always be trees and shrubs you don't like but can't afford to remove. There will be suburban views that are far from pastoral: power poles, the neighbours garage or a block of flats. There will always be dark areas and dry areas or dark dry areas. You will live in an area where it's very windy or very sandy or gets extremely cold. Your challenge is to overcome these obstacles and create your own little green masterpiece. Your own Sissinghurst.
Once you've got the dream all you have to do is play around with plants. Plants are your medium and like any artist you must learn all you can about your medium and how it can best express your ideas. You read about plants. You visit gardens and observe plants growing and you experiment in your own garden with plants. Take lots and lots of notes and lots and lots of photos. Artists always keep a diary or sketchbook or something that is a record of their research and their thinking.
Here are 3 plants in my garden that surprised me this summer. They have incredible boho appeal.
Viburnum oculus 'Sterile', Snowball Tree
Viburnum opulus 'Sterile', Snowball Tree
Clematis 'Honora' (I think). I've trained it up one of my abutilons (an orange one). I've underplanted it with an unknown orange lily so that its roots are shaded in summer. To the right of the clematis is my old fashioned rose 'William Lobb', which is a Moss.
Clematis 'Honora' (I think).
Calycanthus 'Hartlage Wine' - it's a deciduous shrub and flowers for a short time, but who cares, it's beautiful. It grows to a height of 2 metres.
Calycanthus 'Hartlage Wine'
And because a blog post wouldn't be complete without a few photographs of the Wellington Botanic Garden. I snapped these with my iPhone on my weekend run.
Wellington Botanic Garden, April 2018.
Wellington Botanic Garden, April 2018.
Wellington Botanic Garden, April 2018.
Wellington Botanic Garden, April 2018.