+Now is life very solid, or very shifting? I am haunted by the two contradictions

 ...this has gone on forever: will last for ever;

goes down to the bottom of the world - - this moment I stand on.

Also it is transitory, flying, diaphanous.

I shall pass like a cloud on the waves.

Virginia Wolf  4th January1929

On the anniversary of Lockdown, for the sake of one's sanity, it is time to look forward, rather than back. The gate into Pablo's Garden is open once again ...

Sign of hope

With reference to the previous 'snowy' blog, I discovered, amongst my drafts, the following text and images, written well over a year ago, after a visit to Egglestone Hall  Gardens and thought it was a pity to waste it...

Just before the snow arrived last week, I paid my annual visit to the tiny abandoned churchyard in the grounds of the wonderful Egglestone Hall Gardens to view the snowdrops. There are other places nearby that also have wonderful snowdrops but Egglestone Hall's churchyard is somewhere extra special  with its own particular ambience.

Abandoned churchyard at Egglestone Hall

It always feels as if there's a story there just waiting to be told. (Wendy please note!)

One almost expects to see a figure rise up from behind one of the ancient gravestones - probably a cliched lady in a long grey dress and bonnet  (must stop reading the Brontes). She'd be clutching a tiny posy of snowdrops, just picked from one of the graves...

Snowdrops nestling in the shelter of a grave

Blossoms and dewdrops at the bent spray's edge

Hark, where my blossom'd pear tree in the hedge
Leans to the fields and scatters on the clover
Blossoms and dewdrops at the bent spray's edge

Robert Browning wrote nostalgically in his Home thoughts from abroad about the month of May.
I was reminded of the poem when, after a particularly windy morning, the large, elderly pear tree
opposite the kitchen window had 'snowed' all along the path leading to Pablo's Garden.

It was a magical sight on a sunny May morning.

A view from the kitchen window

Despite the weather, spring is definitely on the way!

It must have been late September 2017, after watching an episode of Gardener's World in which Monty Don planted up a small window box, that I decided to do my own, using his planting as inspiration. I planted trailing variegated ivy and two deep pink cyclamen which have flowered continuously. It has been a delight to open the kitchen blinds each morning.

A view from the kitchen window

The cyclamen have just about gone over now but imagine my delight when I opened the blinds last week to find that the tiny iris reticulata Katherine Hodgson that I'd popped into  the bottom of the window box had decided to pay me a visit.

Katherine Hodgson

I planted up a second window box for my friend Vivian's special birthday and, when I called last week, glorious tiny, yellow iris reticuta were about to poke through. Neither of these window boxes cost very much in monetary terms, but the pleasure they have given and continue to give is priceless.

Life in the garden

The two central activities in my life -
alongside writing -
have been reading and gardening.                 
                                       Penelope Lively         

Life in the Garden is the title of the book by Booker prize-winning author, Penelope Lively.
She has long been a hero of mine (or 'shero' as the late lamented Julia Darling would have said) and,
as I am reading this memoir of her own life in gardens, I am  reminded of the many and glorious gardens that I have visited over the last 40 years or so.

Penelope's book covers not only her own personal gardens but it is an exploration of gardens in literature which is also a hobby of mine. I love reading novels in which gardens and plants play a major role.

As well as children's  books - Tom's Midnight Garden, The Secret Garden, Alice in Wonderland etc  - there are many enjoyable and  inspirational novels in which the sense of place is most skilfully evoked by reference to gardens - too many indeed to list here - but I must highlight books by two  novelist friends of mine, Honesty's Daughter by Wendy Robertson and The Orchid House by Avril Joy. If you enjoy gardens in literature why not give them a try, especially as the weather dictates that armchair gardening is the preferred exercise this February?

Happy Reading!

January

The past only comes back when the present runs so smoothly
that it is like the sliding surface of a deep river.
Then one sees through the surface to the depths.
In those moments I find one of my greatest satisfactions,
not that I am thinking of the past;
but that it is then that I am living most in fully in the present.
                                                             Virginia Woolf

Frost on the winter garden

Christmas at Kew Gardens

I knew virtually nothing about gardening when we moved here from our nearby town house simply because we had no garden to speak of there. It was interesting, therefore, to open the notebook and read what was written - in the beginning it was mostly lists of plants that I'd identified as already growing in the garden.

(I remember really enjoying this detective-like adventure, spending hours searching through masses of garden books borrowed, of course, from Durham County's libraries, and began to empathise with how the early plant hunters must have felt).

Fatsia Japonica in flower

As I became more confident, the notebook  began to list plants I wanted to grow and seeds I planned to sow (many of which subsequently failed or died). It also included basic diagrams showing where perennials  were to be planted and it has been interesting recalling some of the planting of the initial layouts, making me realise just how much the garden planting has changed over the years.


What has been most interesting, however, has been recalling the many people, most of them no longer with us, who gave me many of the plants which are still thriving in this garden as I write and whose generosity ensures that their presence will live on as long as I continue to garden here in Pablo's garden - testimony also to the generosity of the true gardener who is always ready to share both plants and knowledge with others, a generosity for which I will also be grateful.

Some tinge of melancholy

Lovely as these autumn days on the heath;
the gorse is still as smooth as silk,
and the air fragrant.
...as though there were some tinge of melancholy
in its sweetness.
                                             Virginia Woolf

September border

There are always flowers

There are always flowers
for those that wish to see them
       Henri Matisse

Mock Orange - flowering in November!

the perfect September

All the months are crude experiments out of which
the perfect September is made.
   Virginia Woolf A Passionate Apprentice
   

September border

                      If August is 'a wicked month' (Edna O'Brien) then September is the 'morning after the night before month'. Borders are flushed with the tell-tale signs of over indulgence, leading inevitably to feeling a bit seedy!

Rudbeckias and Japanese anemones

The glorious perennials are, like many of us, past their best but determined to have a final flowery fling before accepting that the autumn of their days will unrelentingly make way for a steady decline into the somnambulism of winter.

cosmos purissima

Glory in the springs that are yours

For every person who has ever lived 
there has come, at last, a spring he will never see.
Glory then in the springs that are yours
                                               Pam Brown

Somewhat belated but Spring has Sprung!

Soil is memory made flesh...

Soil is memory made flesh
is past and present combined:
nothing goes away
               Maggie O'Farrell

Before

I was in despair at the end of last year.
The left hand side fence of Pablo's garden had to be replaced, accordingly everything at that side of the border had to be ruthlessly cut back.  This was what remained!

and after!

With the New Year came resolution - I would look on the blank canvas as an opportunity and replant as necessary.
The pre-existing clematis montana and climbing roses had become so overgrown that, try as I might, I couldn't control them as I wanted. Now I could begin anew.  I have repositioned many of the garden ornaments in the border and indulged in a number of different clematis. New climbing roses are next on my shopping list.

The brilliant Norman has been and wrestled with the rampant ivy on the garage and the two huge pear trees and succeeded with taming the trees on the right hand border  All that is needed now is another general tidying session if the weather holds.

And look what has appeared almost overnight 

Sign of hope in despair

'A gentle creature, with beauty all her own...'

         











I can't wait to see what appears next!

Thought for 2017

                                                                Life engenders life
                                                             Energy creates energy.
                                                            It is by spending oneself
                                                             That one becomes rich  
                                                                           Sarah Bernhardt

Mad Hatter water feature in situ in Pablo's Garden

                                                  Good Gardening in 2017  

Autumn Colour

Before the garden beds down for the winter, I thought I'd share with you the remnants of autumn colour in the border - proof that there is always something to delight the eye. If one looks for interest and charm in a garden it will always be found.

Glorious grasses - even in decline

I usually cut these grasses down severely in late autumn as they start to look untidy, but this year I've left  them to die back of their own accord to provide extra cover for insects over the winter.

magnolia stellata in autumn colour

This magnolia stellata is a delight in the early part of the year. It has both beautiful flowers and stunning perfume.

But it also has beauty in its decline. Witness the glory of the leaves which contribute so well to the colour palette of the rest of Pablo's garden in the autumn.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   

quince tree and rose Tess of the D''Urbervilles

This quince tree complements the colour of the magnolia wonderfully, placed as it is behind the summer house. Last year it produced no fruit at all. This year it fared better and I picked a large bowl full of the golden fruit - said to be the actual fated 'apple' from the Garden of Eden.

Quinces are terribly difficult fruit as they take forever to cook  but they do smell delicious so this year I merely left them in a bowl with cinnamon sticks and dried oranges studded with cloves - Christmas personified!

Acer preparing for winter

             

Even less time to stand and stare...

Turn around and it's Friday again - turn around and autumn's almost here!

My garden good intentions seem to have evaporated into thin air. I begin each year with an imaginary list of garden good intent which gets whittled down from the 'if I only could I would' to 'need to do just to keep on top of...' actual list.

Even more true of the allotment.
Having moved from a very poor site, riddled with roots from the nearby ash tree (which remains remarkably healthy, I'm sorry to say) to a much improved and better designed allotment I have allowed the weeds to envelop some areas and had to spend lots of time hand weeding just to allow the poor beetroot room to breathe.

Hey ho - next year...

I have managed quite a few garden-related jaunts - to the Malvern and Tatton Park Shows, to Littlethorpe Manor Garden, to a 4-day holiday to view gardens of the Welsh Borders - including the highlight, Sir Roy Strong's garden - amongst many others.

Despite this, here are a few photographs showing various aspects of the garden.

Top of the left hand border in May

The left hand border on 11th May


- showing the gorgeous aubergine-coloured acer near the
french window area, together with some of the tulips which I
planted in November. I love the lily-flowered form of
tulip and buy a selection each year from the Daily Telegraph.
Then I struggle to find space for them in the borders.


I guess a better solution is to plant tulips in layers in tubs as is done in Durham's Botanic Garden. That way I could place the tubs wherever I wanted in the borders.

Must make a note for this coming tulip planting season!

A bit further down the same border showing euphorbia fireglow
and one of  last year's birthday presents - a roof finial.



Here we have a magnolia - forgotten which one - in glorious close-up. It has very little room to grown, poor thing, as it's squashed in the right-hand border so it tends to lean towards the lawn.

     Even so, it has begun to produce flowers with the most exquisite perfume.

The glory of the magnolia

Small stumpery with mill wheel 

Both stumperies are beginning to establish well.
I acquired a small mill wheel last year and it has
pride of place in the smaller of the two. I have
morelogs which I need to position before the winter
sets in which will give insects etc an opportunity to
survive until spring. There is a hedgehog house nearby
but, sadly, as in many gardens this year, no sightings of hedgehogs as yet. We often see the young during the summer months but not so far.

Fingers crossed that some appear.

It has been such a strange year in both the garden and the allotment. I do have the makings of a
superb pumpkin - in time for hallowe'en -  but only two peas germinated out of a packet of a few
hundred. Similarly, in the greenhouse tomatoes refuse to ripen - not enough sun until the last few days - yet the cucumbers are doing OK and we have to give many away.

However, the roses have been splendid and my favourite gardener, Chris Beardshaw, has excelled himself after a slow start in the small front garden. A particularly handsome twosome has been a pink climber intertwined amongst the philadelphus - and the combined perfume was especially memorable - Jo Malone couldn't have done better!

Philadelphus and  intertwined rose

High Days and Holidays

A1liums in George Smith's garden

This is but a a small part of the border in flower arranger extraordinaire  George Smith's garden last summer. The garden is a floral delight and is immaculate both in design and attention to detail - a perfect example of how an eminent floral artist plans his garden to accommodate his passion for flowers.

More alliums - this time at Newby Hall on my birthday visit there last June

I'm very fond of the flower and planted lots of Purple Sensation in Pablo's garden last year. As I write they are just beginning to show in the borders but have yet to unfurl and reveal their stunning lollipop heads.

Time for tea at Bradley Walled Garden

This charming table, set with teacups full of flowers, was a  delightful addition to this Victorian walled garden situated not far from Prudhoe.


New owners have done little alter the layout of the garden. The borders are full of colouful plants that mirror those for sale. In addition to tasteful garden sundries, Bradley Walled Garden boasts a fine restaurant - booking ahead is to be recommended as its  reputation grows.

Stunning display of foxgloves at Harrogate Show in 2015

Nearer home - gunnera at Durham University's Botanic Gardens

Just rulers and bits of paper

Sissinghurst

A short holiday visiting gardens in Kent  in 2015 and Sissinghurst was a must-see. I was last there in the 1980s while staying in Dorset and was inspired to create my own white garden on my return- not very successfully  I might add.The return visit didn't disappoint.

It was interesting to see the exhibition detailing the development of the garden and in particular the relationship between Vita and Harold, poignantly told in this quote from Harold
       

Nor did Great Dixter, which I saw in the height of summer some years ago, disappoint. Christopher Lloyd is still very much a presence and one of my favourite gardening books of all time features correspondence between him and the doyenne of dry gardening, Beth Chatto.

Autumn border at Great Dixter

It was interesting to see the autumn colour on this occasion. The subtle placing of plants to show each to advantage, none taking centre stage but each playing its part in the overall scheme of things. The borders remain an inspiration.


Christopher Lloyd had an artist's eye, witness  his use of colour, form and texture. The border shown here is full of faded and subdued shades, all placed with a painterly eye  and utilising an autumnal palette.





This border is in direct contrast with the glories of the rudbekia in another part of the garden.

 As Van Gogh wrote ' How lovely yellow is. It stands for the sun.'

Rudbekia at Great Dixter

''

I will make even more good resolutions...

...to fill my brain with remote books and habits

Snowdrops in Egglestone Hall churchyard

I suppose the first and most important resolution has to be to maintain A Garden for Pablo.

To this end I propose to whizz through 2015, beginning with an image taken at Egglestone Hall in early January. The snowdrops here in Pablo's Garden are just beginning to peep through whereas I suspect that in friend Wendy's garden they are in full bloom already.

A Mad Hatter garden fountain

Determining to concentrate on sourcing plants with a literary connection in an attempt to create a garden suitable for a book lover, I was delighted, whilst visiting Harrogate Spring Fair, to find a company specialising in characters from Alice in Wonderland - it being 150 years since the book was published.


Sadly, the prices were prohibitive so I'll have to continue to buy my weekly lottery tickets and  live in hope.

The Jubilee Park in Spennymoor is always a joy to behold.
I go there regularly to check on the two park benches we placed there, near the bowling green, one for my Aunt  and Uncle who loved this park where I spent hundreds of happy hours when small and one in memory of The Seven Law sisters - especially Frances, my mother - who was brought up in a small stone house in Park Street, just outside the boundary wall of Jubilee Park.

Tulips in Jubilee Park in May

     

May beats April in Pablo's Garden for colour and vitality.
The bluebell and forget-me-not paint vast sweeps of the left hand border a most delightful azure blue but it is the acid green of the euphorbia robbiae that shimmers and dazzles.

May border with euphorbia

It is the spectacular light  in May, however, that transforms even the most  mundane of plants
into a shimmering wonderland of colour.
                                                                           

May tulips


The garden must first be prepared in the soul
or else it will not flourish
English proverb


Review of 2015 to be continued...

Back on track!

I feel I've let Pablo down by not keeping his garden blog updated.
I hope to rectify this in the coming weeks - in both words and images - to show some of the changes and hopefully improvements made in the garden during this year.

Meanwhile, here are a few glimpses to whet the appetite.

tulip fever

clematis  montana

The montana was spectacular this year.
Sadly I didn't capture the best of it on film and now most has been ruthlessly cut back.

However here's a view of the small pink version on the side of the summer house.





Autumn must be nearer than we think for bulb catalogues have begun to be pushed through the letterbox and at the
allotment the seed catalogues for next year's bounty have
been given out. I plan to switch allotments later in the year which will entail moving my shed but it will be worth it as the neighbouring ash tree has taken moisture out of the soil
(at least that's my excuse for  poor crops!)

forget-me-nots and border tulips

Where does the time go....

Unbelievably, it's six months since I last visited Pablo's Garden blog!
Problems with my laptop - (it decided to delete all my files and photos) - and some while thereafter before it was replaced, resulted in my losing momentum for documenting the garden.

I did continue to photograph developments in the garden - including taking out the apricot that thought it was a medlar, together with a viburnum that had outgrown it's allotted space, thus freeing up areas for replanting - and have been busy deciding what to plant in the newly-available spaces.

Various garden visits and a trip to Harrogate and  Gardeners' World Live last weekend produced a variety of new plants, some of which are already in situ, but there is still work to be done.

The weeks and months fly by and unbelievably it is almost one whole year since we opened Pablo's Garden under the NGS! Although successful - about 150 visited and we made £650 for charity - I felt it was better to have a break and replant and establish some areas of the garden before opening again.

Who knows what next year will bring?

More later - hopefully with photographs.

Keep Gardening.

Looking through the window

Usually one of the first signs of spring

Early in the year, a neighbour's glorious tree always managed to lift the spirits of all who viewed it.
I often inveigled my immediate neighbour with a request to 'prune' those branches that trespassed onto his garden, with the proviso that he hand the offending twigs to me, which he duly did. They then took pride of place on the hall table, helping to dispel the winter blues. How could anyone feel miserable having witnessed this living miracle?

For me, this Van Gogh-like tree was a sign of hope, accompanied by the delicate snowdrops that shyly made their quiet debut,  only to take centre stage as the spring progressed.

How tragic, therefore, after returning home one afternoon and gazing out of the french windows to discover that the tree had been pruned back beyond all recognition. What the poor tree had done to warrant this act of vandalism is  beyond my understanding. I feel so sorry for myself, the neighbourhood and, of course, the tree itself.

The view from the french windows now

On a positive note, however, at least part of the tree still exists and so I'm trying to comfort myself  with the thought that, Nature being as powerful as she is, perhaps there'll come a time  when I'll be able to gaze out of the window and Vincent's vision will once again delight the eye and lift the spirits.


I live in hope.                                            

Cheerful primroses