I visited a garden this week that’s evolved over the last 40 years. It’s a proper country plot, surrounding an old farmhouse and sitting isolated in the flat Norfolk fields. What struck me was not only the encyclopaedic selection of plants, but also the number of statues and ornaments nestling amongst emergent leaves. I will return to capture more for the blog, but for now, here are some pictures that caught my eye in the early April sunshine at the weekend. As I look through them, I’m struck by the incredible intricacies and diversity of the plant life in a tiny space. Us Earthlings are lucky creatures.
A guard dog by the entrance sits amongst the symmetrical, evergreen whorls and acid green flowers of Euphorbia myrsinites which thrives in this hot, dry spot.
The Corkscrew Hazel (Corylus avellana “Corntorta”) at its best against the spring sky.
Who wouldn’t want this beauty gracing their flowerbed? The Yellow Archangel (Lamium galeobdolon) is a fitting parter, along with the red stemmed Euphorbia “Ruby Glow” in the background. I’m at a loss as to what the large upturned leaves in the middle ground are…?
The fascinating, curled remains of the spiky, scented witch hazel (Hamamelis) flowers – I think I prefer these to the bright winter spikes. Alas, my soil is too alkaline. [Scrubs from bucket list].
The unmistakable checker-board flowers of the Snakes Head Fritillary (Fritillaria meleagris). A must for damp, shady spots… with some patience (and luck), you will be rewarded by these beauties multiplying each spring.
It’s no secret that I adore Hellebores. Impossible not to be uplifted by this freckled face.
A perfect pairing of grape hyacinths and a shiny blue sphere with red Heuchera adding background zing.
(For my records, I’ve also seeded the woodland with grass seed, planted a herb garden in some old galvanised pots, re-potted an ancient money plant, searched for (AND FOUND!) Peony buds, replanted primroses and moved the sorry looking foxgloves to the woods this week. Whilst looking after the children in the Easter Holidays. Needless to say, the house is a disgrace. Luckily, if I’m in the garden, I can’t see it….)