Gardener's Reprieve

It's July,
and a period of leisure has at long last arrived for those
engaged in gardening for recreation only.
Now is the time to sit back and enjoy.

Round about the time of the Chelsea Flower Show
I give clumps of many herbaceous perennials what is known as
"The Chelsea Chop",
i.e., I cut them down almost to ground level.
This ensures a second period of flowering fairly quickly,
and it means that flower beds remain interesting - and tidy - for most
of the season. Pruning of shrubs that have finished flowering
 is over, those that are still flowering can wait until later.
 Birds are busy with second and possibly third clutches,
which means that I leave hedges alone until I am sure that
the youngsters have flown the nest.

The only work to be done in ornamental gardens now
is watering during dry periods, deadheading, feeding, weeding
and, of course, mowing the lawn.


Siting in the garden,
admiring,
and not getting up to work,
is far harder than working,
as any gardener will tell you.

So I went round and took a few photos.

This is part of  my 'hot' border,
where I grow herbs like this thyme,
wavy-hair grasses and houseleeks.

Dublin Bay performs year after year.

She embraces and smothers her large metal climbing frame

and flowers with abandon for many weeks over the summer.

The sea holly (Eryngium)

also does best in a dry and sunny border. As its name name implies, 

sea holly is very happy in gardens by the sea.

But it does equally well here in the Shropshire Hills.

Nevada is a large rose, 7ft by 7ft.,

with creamy white, semi-double blooms of about 4" across.
At dusk they remind me of  floppy white handkerchiefs.

In my experience, Nevada likes fairly drastic removal of old wood if it is

to keep up its performance over the years. It gives a wonderful show early in the
season, when it is smothered with blooms all along its stems.
It has intermittent, less generous  crops later on.

 This is 'Graham Thomas',
an English Rose, widely sought after for
its wonderful colour and delicate tea scent.

 This photograph doesn't fully show the 

very unusual, rich and deep,  pure yellow colour,
without a hint of lemon.

   The blooms are cup shaped, and formed like a Paeony;
It will flower profusely all summer and is very easy to grow
and undemanding.

Another beauty, "Guinee", a climber.

Very hard to photograph; 

I've tried it in bright sunshine, on gloomy days, at dusk, early in the morning.

This rose is the darkest of all garden roses, almost black.

Its velvet like texture makes it appear dull and lifeless in our cloudy

English climate. But on bright, sunny days it glows with a smooth, purplish sheen.

It is very pleasantly scented, not sweet, but fragrant and slightly tangy.

Guinee flowers profusely in late June and early July, but subsequent flowering is sparse.

It has stiff and rigid stems and is best grown on walls.

Guinee is one of these rare, very showy beauties, very demanding, needing a lot of attention, 

instant and constant deadheading, lots of feeding and treatment for mildew.

You either love it or hate it.

Not many gardeners grow it.

 Everybody who sees it at its best is instantly smitten.

It is the one rose which has knots of admiring visitors standing in front of it

on 'Open Garden' days, sniffing it, cradling a bloom in both hands, feeling the texture,

writing down its name.

 I always warn people about its capricious nature, 

 It can be exasperating, but I wouldn't want to be without it. 

Rosa Rugosa is a completely different animal. Easy to grow, will sucker almost

like a weed, is very large and prickly and therefore wonderful in hedges.

There is nothing special about rosa rugosa, it comes in purplish pink and white,

needs no special treatment, can be cut down to ground level, yet still comes back obediently.

A proper workhorse.

Apart from its usefulness, rugosa has one special, redeeming feature, 

namely the huge, orangey hips in autumn,

which will look very attractive for a long time and my birds love them.

I couldn't resist taking this close-up

of the tiny open flowers of the common thyme.

A herb is a herb is a herb, 

there's little to say about it,

but, by golly, a patch of flowering thyme can stop you in your tracks.

PS:  For anybody wondering, gardener is still alive.

He's been chain-sawing trees today, under strict supervision.