April’s Garden Update
‘My aim is that my garden should always look as if I had died 6 weeks ago’
Robin Lane Fox
As April progresses, the garden emerges dreamlike, like an Elysian Field. It happens every year of course but every year I catch my breath, drinking it in as if for the first time. Herbaceous perennials are surging forth at a speed that is almost overwhelming, and the air is heavy with the scent of blossom and thick like honey now we’re hitting the high teens. Since we’re getting slightly higher night time temperatures, all our little seedlings are begging to be planted, which is what will occupy us for the next couple of weeks. Until this point we’ve been furiously planting perennials, tying in climbing roses and clematis to shiny new wires, and moving ten mature fig trees to make way for exciting garden developments.
By now the tulips are hitting their stride with ‘Margarita’ first past the post in a ruffled plum petticoat, followed shortly after by ‘Apricot Pride’ in too-tasteful buff pink. I’ve tried to diverge – every year I set out to do something different - but I have to admit that my colour palette remains firmly in the ‘bruised’ territory (purples, peaches, garnets, dark maroons, creamy yellows), and each year different varieties yield a similar mix of colours. For interest, the full list of our tulip varieties this year are below:
‘Margarita’
‘Apricot Pride’
‘Ridgedale’
‘Ronaldo’
‘Purple Prince’
‘Paul Scherer’
‘Mount Tacoma’
I’m sad to say it, but this year I won’t be here to see them in full swing as I take a very exciting six-week sabbatical at what I have to admit is just about the worst time of year, horticulturally speaking. That’s why I found the quote at the top of the page so humorous, though I’m not planning to enter actual Elysium any time soon. Rather, I’ll be temporarily relocating to New York with my family, and in my absence, the walled garden will be ably kept in hand by a small but mighty team. I’m excited to step back through the green door into the almost hallucinatory quality of a June garden, but until then I will bid you adieu and I look forward to returning with more to share in a few weeks’ time.
Kate