This is my 105th diary post for the Six on Saturday link up of garden bloggers. I know because this week I did a spreadsheet listing the plants featured. It was fun to reminisce and I realise how wonderful it is to have a record of my gardening antics. Above all though, Six on Saturday is a great way of connecting with other growers and becomes a dangerous habit as the list of new plants I want to possess grows ever longer. Thanks to Jonathan aka The Propagator for being the glue that holds us together.
I almost didn’t post this week as the rain made photography challenging but I put on my mac and went for it. A mixed bag this week…
Salvia leucantha Purple Velvet
What a colour, what a texture, what a plant! This is a tender salvia which is fine outdoors in summer but needs to be kept frost free over winter. I therefore grow it in a pot. Each autumn it puts on a neon light show, with a purple so bright I have to tell myself it really is real. Up close it has a fuzzy felt texture. I love it!
Narcissus romieuxii – Romieux Hoop Petticoat Daffodil
This little treasure is identical in shape to the bright yellow narcissus bulbocodium which I grow in the grass but is a much paler primrose yellow. This variety comes from North West Africa and need to be sheltered from winter wet. I love the shape and imagine the trumpets are fairy gramophone horns. This one is trumpeting the arrival of spring far too early but then it’s fair enough that it’s confused. It’s a new planting and is growing in my greenhouse sand plunge. It has been rather warm in there of late.
The pond’s last hurrah
The waterlily leaves are slowly sinking and the iris marginals are going brown but this Lobelia has decided to give one final floral flourish. I love the regal purple colour.
I couldn’t be happier with how the pond has turned out. The water is now perfectly balanced with a clear mirrored surface and inky black depths. It’s been visited by plenty of flying wildlife this year, mainly insects but also a huge Red Kite that swooped down for a drink in the heat of summer. So far I have seen no amphibians though. As far as I know the froggy staircase remains unscaled. I have seen a newt not far away though so maybe next spring it’ll explode with amphibious activity. Build it and they will come.
Cuddly cotoneaster horizontalis
This plant has the charming habit of reaching its arms out and embracing things. It has stretched up from the bed below to throw its arms around these alpine troughs and planters. This is a plant that should feature in one of those sunday supplement lists of plants for year-round interest. Its bare branches are architectural in winter, the rosebud pink miniature flowers charming in spring, the green leaves glossy in summer and the leaves coral red in autumn.
Cornus rutgersensis ‘Stellar Pink’
This wonderful tree, planted alongside the lane to our house, is another autumn wonder. The colour this year has been brilliant, the tree dangling with a traffic light succession of green, orange and red leaves. This one has beautifully proportioned, fondant pink ridged flower bracts in spring.
Rosehips from a very old Rose
Back in May I wrote about my Aunt Rose who had Covid-19 aged 106. She was asymptomatic and, I’m happy to report, continued to be. Covid didn’t get her but eventually pure old age did and she died in August a couple of weeks shy of her 107th birthday. My post about plants for remembering included a picture of the ancient rose that reminded me of her toughness and beauty. Now it’s festooned in glossy red rosehips, a reminder of the time my siblings and I tried to make rosehip itching powder to put down her back. We were children and she didn’t really mind, although she was less happy when we put foaming sugar in her tea.
This seasonal diary is part of a weekly link-up of garden bloggers from around the world, called Six on Saturday. For more information and links to other blogs crammed with gardening activity, check the blog of host The Propagator.
“Cuddly” certainly picks the positive for cotoneaster! They are very useful plants, easy to grow, obliging etc but rarely reach to being pretty or even attractive – functional, I suppose.
I don’t know why I like the cotoneaster so much but I do. I think I do find it attractive even. Maybe that’s why I’ve anthropomorphised it so positively. I know – cuddly indeed!
Those rosehips are a show and such a nice reminder of your Aunt Rose. Your story reminded me of when my siblings and I got into trouble with rosehip itching powder! I must look our for a similar Lobelia for my small pond as the water buttercup I have is far too big.
I don’t remember the itching powder really working but it was fun to try. We spent all our days in the garden back then and usually found something nefarious to do. I can highly recommend the pond lobelia.
I see that you still have water lily leaves in your pond, …my pond has been empty for over a month! Only the Irises still have leaves all around and the Japanese Equisetum still gives some graphic lines.
Very nice close-up of the rose hips
I was surprised about the water lily leaves too. It was still throwing up flowers until a month ago although they stayed in bud and refused to open.
The pond looks really good. It can’t have been easy to get it to this stage with the water clear and reflective. The salvia flowers are super – particularly in close up. Its like a little puff of angora (that itchy but soft knitwear seems to have disappeared). The cornus looks great now and its Spring show must have been wonderful.
Hi Hortus, the pond sorted itself out really. It just needed patience and lots of plants in it. I love your angora description for the salvia. Spot on!
Maybe it was all those pranks that made your Aunty so resiliant. The best thing you caught off her was your love of plants?
So much about Aunt Rose made her resilient. She was the child of a refugee, grew up poor, lost her husband young but just enjoyed bring around family. She was not a gardener as she lived in a tiny first floor flat. She loved tea and old movies.
Lovely little daffodil. I grew some bulbocodiums in pots last year and will soon be finding out whether they’ve bulked up, or down, and whether they’ve produced any flower buds. I must get a Salvia leucantha, it’s been on my wanted list too long.
The bulbocodiums in my grass come back every year but aren’t really bulking up much. Each year I worry it might be their last but hopefully they’ll hang on in there. The ones in pots seem Ok too.
That doesn’t even look like a daffodil, it looks like a morning glory to me! It’s fabulous! Love the pond. I may have to make real plans for one. I think I may be able to actually channel some of the water that sits on my clay soil to a bare area. Now the time to dig around and see what works. I’d love a pond.
Yes the bulbocodium daffs are all trumpet with just tiny stunted sepals. Bizarre but beautiful. I’m so enjoying my pond after years of wanting one. This is basically a concrete tank but I read recently that if you have clay soil you can just dig a hole and line with clay to get a pond going so it sounds like your idea of digging about and seeing what happens may be a good one.
March
Have no idea what happened there! My comment said: What a beautiful tribute to your aunt! I adore your photography and also that gorgeous cornus.
What a beautiful collection of autumnal colours. Cotoneaster seems to be an undervalued shrub in this country, but I had a horizontal one by a pond in my last garden and it cuddled the edges just like yours does in a most satisfying way. I love your Salvia, it’s a brilliant colour.
I like to think of Cotoneaster as a willing friend as you’re right – it’s undervalued.
Goodness! Your 105th posting. You are very organised, I’ve lost count of mine. What lovely colours and a big variety of plants. The tiny daffodil is so pretty. Your Aunt Rose sounds a delightful character.
I had also lost count of my posts to be honest. I generally don’t do anything until I realise my life would be better if I pulled my finger out. The spreadsheet will help me to find posts to link to without having to guess when I wrote about something so it’ll save me time down the line.
Your Salvia ‘Purple Velvet’ is perfectly named. What fabulous flowers.
I love the way you describe cotoneaster, I’ve never thought of mine as being ‘cuddly’ so I’ll look at them with new eyes from tomorrow onwards. You’re right, it’s a plant that has a lot going for it, at all times of the year.
What a grand old lady your Aunt Rose must have been – I think she was much loved and I’m sure you will miss her.