JEARRARD'S HERBAL
18th June 2023
Aesculus indica .
The week has been hot and dry. Change has flickered like a mirage on the horizon without taking solid form. A few fluffs of rain fell in the week, but that was all they were.
I hesitate to call them drops, they were almost without substance. Fortunately there has been some cloud cover. It has been high, gossamer cloud which filters the sunlight,
but is clearly not carrying much water. It has reduced the stress on the garden but not relieved it. Naturally there have been reports. Other people have flooded, torrents have rushed across the ground.
It hasn't happened here.
Here, the noise and clutter of spring have gone, the garden has slipped into the slow peace of summer. Languid leaves droop in the space between lethargy and wilting.
The structure of the garden is essential, the decoration has been wiped away. It is a nice place to be, it has a slow rhythm and above all else, it has shade.
When I moved here I had wind. Gleeful, boisterous and destructive wind. I planted trees and now I have shade and susuration. I miss the frolicking wind, but not enough to invite it back.
I still lose an occasional sheet from the greenhouse roof, my yearning for wind is easily dismissed.
Once the practical windbreak was planted, I started adding trees for ornament. A pair of Aesculus indica went in very early, ridiculous seedlings that became ridiculous saplings
and have now become ridiculous trees dressed in clown-costume flowers. They are quietly satisfactory, self-satisfied, possibly even smug. They are delicious shade in summer.
18th June 2023
Eucalyptus pauciflora niphophila .
Eucalyptus, ha ha ha. I planted an avenue of them as tiny seedlings. They have been amusing me for decades. I wanted an australasian border where the sharp light
of the southern hemisphere could sparkle around the silvery foliage like the glinting of sugar on a meringue. I had grand plans. Unfortunately, a succession of hard winters
left the plans in disarray. I took a step back, reconsidered, and replanted with tougher things, more suited to a windy site in Cornwall. The Eucalyptus
remained, filling the space with a sense that they are masters of their own destiny. If they want to stand up, they stand up. If they want to fall over , they fall over.
I put in about two dozen, a handful remain.
Eucalyptus pauciflora niphophila should be a smallish tree, mine has grown rather large which puts the identification into question. A few years ago it had become ominously large,
leaning over the house. Eucalyptus timber is very heavy when it falls, I was worried for the roof. The tree was felled, and like most members of the genus, promptly regrew
from the stump. I am pleased to see it back, pleased to see it in flower again and I will be perfectly happy to cut it back again in a few years.
18th June 2023
Liriodendron tulipifera .
My Liriodendron went into the ground in the very early days, while the garden was still deciding about shape and layout. It was planted in the middle of a space
that I thought would always be a small copse. A tiny block of trees that would act as an internal windbreak, nothing fancy, a few jolly trees to punctuate the garden plan.
Ideas change. Almost as soon as it had established, I pushed a new path right through the middle of the copse. The Liriodendron was almost in the way.
Almost, but the path just missed it, by about a foot. I didn't need to remove it, I could just about mow past it, trim the side branches when needed. I persisted.
Thirty years later it is still in the way, getting bigger and bigger without ever seeming to flower.
Good weather, good timing, or possibly just paying attention have revealed the flowers at the top of the tree, almost beyond the reach of the camera. They are lovely
(in a distant way). I may venture into the aesthetic whim of collecting some petals when they fall and taking them into the house.
The tree has become old while I have waited. The trunk is in poor condition, it has some flaking bark and some dying branches. It needs attention, but I will probably put it off.
One windy day it will have a catastrophe, and that corner of the garden will change again. I don't think it can hit anything essential so I am prepared to leave it to
gravity and the fates.
18th June 2023
Stewartia pseudocamellia koreana .
The Liriodendron was a whippy sapling when it went in, a four foot stick in a two litre pot. It looked so helpless that it would clearly never be a problem.
Fifty feet of growth later and I have become more cautious of sappy young things. However I had no misgivings when I planted this Stewartia. I had seen mature plants in arboreta
and wanted one in the garden. I raised a hundred from seed, forgot to prick them out, killed the lot and bought one from a nursery. That is sometimes the way of things.
It went into a border of Hydrangea where it was dwarfed by their vigour for a couple of years before emerging triumphantly from their smothering embraces.
It has gone on to form a trunk and flower. It isn't a magnificent trunk, and the flowers are not magnificent yet, but it is still a youngster. Every year it is getting better.
A few more years of decent growth and it will be a tree rather than a shrub with potential.
Good growth will require some rain. Promise is still flickering on the horizon, hopefully it will be followed by thunder, lightning and a deluge.