Resist the temptation to snip and tidy every last wayward stem, says plantsman John Hoyland. Many plants come into their own when the winter sun is low in the sky and frost rimes their almost alien seedheads
The garden designer Piet Oudolf wrote that a plant is only worth growing if it looks good when it’s dead. Behind his hyperbole is the truth that what remains of many herbaceous plants, particularly their seedheads, can be captivating and will bring beauty into the garden on the most desolate of winter days.
Few of us want to spend much time in the garden right now, but it’s cheering to stare out of the window to admire a scene created from the framework of stems and seedheads—a scene that will be enlivened when hungry birds arrive to feed on the seeds.
In the absence of flowers and colour, it’s the shape and structure of plants that become important in the winter. What has the most impact are tight groups of tall spires from plants such as verbascum, agastache, liatris, lythrum and the perennial forms of digitalis. As a contrast to these strong vertical lines, there are many plants with rounded or flat-topped seedheads.
Achilleas and sedums tend to have very dark, umbel-shaped seedheads, which are striking when seen against russet and golden grasses; many other plants have globe-shaped seedheads that vary in scale from tennis-ball-sized agapanthus and alliums to tiny Pointillist flecks of sanguisorbas. However, whether you prefer strong lines or softer shapes, the effect of a winter planting is always more impressive when plants are grown in large groups.
The most imposing seedheads are the plumes of grasses such as miscanthus, calamagrostis and pennisetum. Sometimes a silvery-grey, but, more often, a bright straw colour, they act as foils to darker plants. The movement of their supple stems can animate what is, otherwise, a very static scene. Grasses such as panicum and deschampsia have open, airy panicles, with seeds hanging from them like tiny droplets of dew.
Denne historien er fra November 21, 2018-utgaven av Country Life UK.
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Denne historien er fra November 21, 2018-utgaven av Country Life UK.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
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Tales as old as time
By appointing writers-in-residence to landscape locations, the National Trust is hoping to spark in us a new engagement with our ancient surroundings, finds Richard Smyth
Do the active farmer test
Farming is a profession, not a lifestyle choice’ and, therefore, the Budget is unfair
Night Thoughts by Howard Hodgkin
Charlotte Mullins comments on Moght Thoughts
SOS: save our wild salmon
Jane Wheatley examines the dire situation facing the king of fish
Into the deep
Beneath the crystal-clear, alien world of water lie the great piscean survivors of the Ice Age. The Lake District is a fish-spotter's paradise, reports John Lewis-Stempel
It's alive!
Living, burping and bubbling fermented masses of flour, yeast and water that spawn countless loaves—Emma Hughes charts the rise and rise) of sourdough starters
There's orange gold in them thar fields
A kitchen staple that is easily taken for granted, the carrot is actually an incredibly tricky customer to cultivate that could reduce a grown man to tears, says Sarah Todd
True blues
I HAVE been planting English bluebells. They grow in their millions in the beechwoods that surround us—but not in our own garden. They are, however, a protected species. The law is clear and uncompromising: ‘It is illegal to dig up bluebells or their bulbs from the wild, or to trade or sell wild bluebell bulbs and seeds.’ I have, therefore, had to buy them from a respectable bulb-merchant.
Oh so hip
Stay the hand that itches to deadhead spent roses and you can enjoy their glittering fruits instead, writes John Hoyland
A best kept secret
Oft-forgotten Rutland, England's smallest county, is a 'Notswold' haven deserving of more attention, finds Nicola Venning