I don’t understand why rockeries have fallen out of fashion. Many people lump the humble rockery in the same category as dwarf conifers, crazy paving and busy lizzies. Plants and garden styles that were all the rage but have plummeted from favour like a balloon struck by a dart.

Rockeries have so much to offer. They can be scaled up or down depending on the size of the garden. There are rockery plants that suit any climate and any sized rockery.

Why my sudden interest in rockeries you ask? Well… it was all because of Vita Sackville-West’s sink gardens and a very ugly driveway.

Back in January I was reading Jane Brown’s book ‘Vita’s Other World: A Gardening Biography of V. Sackville-West. There were descriptions and pictures of these miniature rock gardens, gardens made out of old sinks and troughs, and I was smitten. I started looking at, reading about and thinking about rock gardens. Something I’d not done before. I realised quickly that rockeries where very beautiful but much under appreciated.

At the moment the top of my driveway is the engine room of the garden. It’s where I store piles of compost, bales of pea-straw and do my potting. While it’s an important area it’s also very ugly. I don’t have the space for a full-scale rock garden but I have lots of room for their younger cousin, the ‘sink garden’.

Luckily, our friend Paul is building us, but most especially me, a garden shed. All the plastic pots, potting mix, bags of fine pumice, broken plates (used as crocks), bamboo stakes and strange things (things I’ve collected in the misguided belief that one day they’ll be useful: cast-iron casserole pots, cracked mugs, old trays, chicken wire and a broken wheelbarrow) will have a new home.

But before I get into sink gardens lets have a look at some genuine rock gardens. Let’s have a wander around 5 different rockeries at the Wellington Botanic Garden. It’s early autumn and it’s been a dry summer. The plants are looking surprising good.

I’m not a botanist or a horticulturalist, but roughly speaking, there are four different sorts of rockeries that we’ll see. The first two rockeries are similar. They get good sun and good wind protection. The second sort is a shady rockery. The third sort is in a dell on a hillside which gets heaps of sun. This rockery has bigger, bushier, drought-tolerant plants that like a hotter Mediterranean-like climate. The last sort of rock garden is the cactus and succulent kind - these are the real tough guys of the plant world with their shiny spiky suits and showy-off attitudes.

The rockery tour begins here, just inside the front gates of the Wellington Botanic Garden. This was the first rockery. It was built sometime between 1919 and 1925, but was planned much earlier.

All these plants are small and thrive in rocky nooks and ledges. They’re very good at surviving without a lot of water and no protection from extreme wind, sun and rain. The rocks have been stacked to replicate the sort of rockscapes you’d see in nature. They look like they’ve always been here. That’s the true art of a good rockery.

This is what Vita Sackville-West had to say about the plants that grow in rockeries. Plants that she calls ‘Low Alpines’. She discusses the merits of ‘low Alpines’ in one of her articles that she wrote for the Observer sometime between 1947 and 1961.

‘By ‘low’ Alpines I do not mean those plants which occur only on the lower slopes of mountains, a technical term in horticulture, as opposed to the ‘high’ Alpines. I mean flat-growing; close to the ground; the sorts that make little tufts and squabs and cushions and pools of colour when in flower, and neat tight bumps of grey or green for the rest of the year when the flowers have gone. The range of choice is wide. Saxifrages, silene, stonecrops, thrift, Raoulia, acaena, androsace, aubretia in moderation, thyme, Achillea argentea, Erinus alpines, Tunica saxifrage, Morisia hypogea, Bellis Dresden China, sempervivum or houseleeks, some campanulas such as C. garganica, so easy and self-sowing - the list is endless, and gives scope for much variety.

I would not restrict it only to the rugs and mats and pillows, but would break its level with some inches of flower-stalks, such as the orange Alpine poppy, Papaver alpinum, and some violas such as V. gracilis or V. bosnaica and some clumps of dianthus such as Cheddar pink of the prettily named Dad’s Favourite, and even some primroses specially chosen, such as roses or Garriard Ganymede or Betty Green, and any other favourite which may occur to you.’

Most of you will instantly recognise the pink flowers growing under the Japanese maple as being cyclamens. There are varieties that flower in every season. They like humus-rich soils in partial shade.

I think this pair of dwarf conifers in the photo complete this scene. They bring order, scale and a touch of drama to a hillside that has an overgrown and slightly wild feel. Which goes to show that the right dwarf conifer in the right place is a thing of beauty.

The rocks in a rockery are just as important as the plants. They’re beautiful, each having its own personality, and provide a home for mosses and lichens.

A thick mulch of gravel is laid between the big rocks. The gravel insures that water drains away quickly.

There are seasonal changes in rockeries. Below is a photo of a Japanese maple that I took a couple of days ago. Compare it with the 3 photos directly under it, of the same tree, taken in late autumn last year.

Here’s another rockery, just a bit further along the path from the first one. It has more shrubs and a greener look about it.

Just look at the shapes and textures coming together in an utterly pleasing way. The rockery is like a painting that is simultaneously a dramatic landscape, big and wide, and a series of small intimate still lifes.

Rockeries on this scale are labour intensive. Maybe that’s one of the reasons they’ve become unpopular. Weeds are inevitable in every garden and the only way to remove them here is to scramble over the rocks and pull them out. Personally, I think the rockeries demise has everything to do with fashion and very little to do with their maintenance.

Piet Oudolf’s perennial meadows are very popular and much replicated at the moment. They couldn’t be more different from rockeries. But they too require regular weeding and no one can tell me they are low maintenance gardens. Rockeries have a strong underlying structure whereas meadows are very fluid. But you will see, as you wander through these different rockeries that there are endless possibilities in style from the very minimal to the the very lush. And what’s the point I’m trying to make? Any decent garden requires hard work. If you want a low-maintenance garden then cover your yard in concrete.

Rockeries are the perfect sort of garden for places like Wellington, places that are full of hills.

Here’s the shady rockery. It’s further up the path and higher up the hill. It sits amongst big trees. While I was photographing this area there were kakas circling and squawking, and a giant wood pigeon jumping from branch to branch in a nearby tree.

Below are two photographs of the same Japanese maple in the photo above. These two were taken in winter. This shows that with clever planting there will always be something interesting popping up under the trees.

The Japanese maple in the photos above is Acer palmatum ‘Dissectum Atropurpureum’. They’re often used in larger rockeries because they’re slow growing, compact and allow smaller plants to be grown under them. They prefer partial shade and shelter from strong winds.

The green blobs in the photos above and below are Sceleranthus uniflorus which is a New Zealand native plant. It’s low growing, likes full sun or light shade and is tolerant of dry conditions. It’s maximum spread is 1m.

Here’s a view of the Mediterranean dell that was taken last year, and earlier in the day, when the light was softer.

This grey plant enveloping the rock is called scabweed. It’s proper name is Raoulia hookerii. It’s a very hardy native. There are small yellow flowers in summer followed by fluffy seed heads.

Here’s another native plant, the Marlborough rock daisy or Pachystegia insignis. They’re very hardy and can live in dry exposed situations. They have white flowers in summer.

Heres the path that will take us through the Mediterranean dell. These plants are happy in this hot dry aspect, protected from the wind.

I love this crazy paving path. I know it’s gone out of fashion but it has a certain something.

This poor pineapple lily, Eucomis, was flattened by the heavy rain last week. My pineapple lilies at home look the same. They really like a hot dry home. Only one of my pineapple lilies has flowered this year and it’s in a terracotta pot that gets watered infrequently. The rest are planted in spots that are too damp and don’t get enough sun.

Below are two photos, taken in spring, of the path in the photo above.

I’m climbing out of the Mediterranean dell, with a few backward glances, and moving onto the parched lands of Arizona and Mexico.

It’s hard not to love the flamboyant looking succulents and cactuses or cacti (choose your favourite plural). Compared to the New Zealand natives, which by and large are green and lush, these guys look exotic. And there’re very photogenic.

And now that our quick tour has finished I’m going to introduce you to Dr. D. G. Hessayon, maybe you already know him. He’s going to give us a brief history of rockeries. Incidentally, I picked up my copy of ‘The Rock & Water Garden Expert’ at a thrift shop in Mount Manganui last year. They’re a superb series, and just like the Sunset gardening books, they’re worth hunting down.

I was heartened to read in the introduction, that the purpose of Dr. D. G. Hessayon’s book (and I quote direct from the text) ‘is to introduce the world of rock and water gardening to the ordinary gardener rather than to serve as a textbook for the experienced specialist.’

According to Dr. H. there are three definite periods when rock gardens were popular in Britain. And while New Zealand isn’t Britain, we’ve always been up to date with the latest trends in British gardening since the Europeans arrived in the 1800s. Just in case your were wondering.

‘The first period was a time to show off the rocks and the term ‘Rockwork’ is used to describe such a structure. It began in the middle of the 18th century with the building of the first grottoes, and then in Victorian times there was the grouping of massive rocks in some of our Grand Gardens…Apart from some ferns and evergreens there was little planting amongst these stones. By the latter part of the 19th century the age of the large rock work was over.

‘In 1772 the second period of this history began - a garden of rubble and Icelandic basaltic lava was created in a greenhouse at Chelsea Physic Garden for the cultivation of plants collected from the Swiss Alps. Here the rocks were used as a home for plants rather than to provide an ornamental feature, and the term ‘Rock Garden’ is used to describe such a structure. The second period got off to a slow start…Things changed in the 1860s and the rock garden at last took its place as an important part of the British garden. Rockeries were built at Kew in 1867 and in Edinburgh in 1871, and in 1870 William Robinson’s Alpine Flowers for English Gardens was published.

‘The three decades from 1900 to 1930 were the heyday of the rock garden. Reginald Farrer was the leading figure and his ‘My Rock Garden’ became the first ‘bible’ on the subject. Plant hunters scoured the mountains of the world for new alpines and the rock garden at Wisley was started in 1911. In the years immediately prior to World War II interest in the rock garden declined, and only recently has there been a resurgence.’

And now I turn to ‘sink gardens’.

The two photos above were taken by Tony Lord and appear in his book called ‘Gardening At Sissinghurst’. They re two of Vita Sackville-West’s sink gardens. Below is a photograph from Dr. D. G. Hessayon’s fine book. It too is a sink garden.

Like I said right back at the beginning, I don’t have the space to build a big rockery so I’m going to make sink gardens instead. I’m hoping that they’ll resemble the ones pictured here - old and weathered and having the look of something that was once useful.

This is what Vita Sackville-West had to say abut Sink Gardens.

‘The rheumatic, the sufferers from lumbago, and the merely elderly, would all be well advised to try a little experiment in sink or trough gardening. By sink or trough we mean either those old-fashioned stone sinks now rejected in favour of glazed porcelain or aluminium; or the stone drinking-troughs with which pigs and cattle were once content before they had heard of concrete. Repudiated now by man and beast, they can be picked up in a house-breaker’s yard for a few shillings'; and, raised to hand-level on four little piers of brick or stone, may provide in this their second life a constant pleasure and interest to those keen gardeners who for one reason or another can no longer stoop or dig, but who still wish to fidget happily with their favourite occupation.

Fidget is perhaps the right word, for this is indeed a miniature form of gardening. The sink-gardener is like a jeweller working in precious stones. He makes designs, trying experiments which he can alter when they fail to satisfy him, if he had the wisdom to keep a few pots in reserve. Out comes the offending colour, and in goes the befitting colour, neatly dropped in without any root disturbance.

Choose as deep a trough as possible, to get maximum depth of soil. It must have a hole for drainage; and crocks spread over the whole bottom of the same purpose. The soil should be a mixture of fibrous loam, leaf-mould, sharp silver sand, and very finely broken-up bits of flower-pots. On top of this gritty bed you then arrange rocks or even flat stones. No one can dictate to you how to dispose your rocks, for this will be according to to each person’s fancy, but one can at least make some suggestions about what to plant. It is very important to keep everything to the right scale. Here is a short list of things which should do well: Thymus serpyllum for carpeting; saxifrages of the Kabschia or the encrusted kind; the tiny Alpine forget-me-not, Myosotis rupicola; the tiny Alpine poppy; Bellis Dresden China, a very bright pink little daisy; Erinus alpinism, pink; Veronica Allionii, violet spikes; Allium cyaneum, a five-inch-high blue garlic; and even the midget roses, Rouletti and Oakington Ruby; and the innumerable bulbs such as the early species crocuses (Sieboldii, Tomasinianus), and the early species tulips such as linifolia, bright red, or dasystemon, green and grey; or Orphanidea, bronze; and Scilla and chionodoxas and grape hyacinths…leave readers to their imagination. There is plenty of scope.’

I’m making my sink gardens out of ‘Hypertufa’ and I’m having a lot of fun with the process. My blog in a fortnight will be all about this journey and the plants I plan to plant in them.

A floribunda called ‘Ebb Tide’ that’s flowering again in my garden.

In my last blog I skited about buying myself some birthday roses. I ordered them alright but I couldn’t buy them. That’s because they won’t be ready until August. August!! That’s how things work in the big rose nurseries. And if I’d read Tasman Bay Roses website I’d have known this important piece of information. But I didn’t because I was in a rush.

Then disappointment set in. I started searching around on the internet for some roses. Roses that I could have right now. I discovered Grassroots Nursery. A small nursery that specialises in old and hard-to-come-by-roses. They have quite a lot of Hybrid Musks as it happens. So I bought quite a lot of old roses (a number of which are musks) and they’re on their way to me, right now. A truck driver is driving a box of roses from Auckland to Wellington. And then in August I’ll have even more roses. Just as well, cause I’ll need a few months to work out where I’m going to put them all

See you in a fortnight.