Nurseries vs Garden Centres

It's a bit late now but I was very sorry to see that one of my favourite nurseries closed down last year, or rather, they were taken over by one of the big chains (clue: it rhymes with 'why sales'.)
It was a sad day for me because it was a place we used to go when my dad was alive and they had a nice tea shop and a very unusual selection of indoor plants (rare species Begonias for example. Evidently someone who worked there was an enthusiast.)

It was an unusual place actually in that it had a lot in common with what we know as garden centres (a lot of garden ornaments, composts and sundries and the tea shop) but it was independently owned (not part of a chain) and probably as a result of this it had a quirky character and an idiosyncratic selection of plants on sale, many of them produced on site and not too expensive.  When it was bought out, the oddities disappeared, the place was 'tidied up' and the prices rose by, I'd say, about 50% (£6.99 rose to £10.99 for a shrub for example. So much for economies of scale.)
Of course, most punters won't know the difference. They go to a garden centre of a Sunday not to pick up a rare Begonia but to peruse the wax cotton jackets, drink a cappachino to a 'Celtic Chill' soundtrack, and maybe take auntie Maude an azalea for her birthday. It's a nice day out.
So why, besides the nostalgia, does it bother me so much that this take-over happened? After all, the public get what they want don't they? The owners were presumably offered a fairly hefty incentive. Probably they retired on the proceeds.

I like that film, The Devil Wears Prada. Besides seeing Anne Hathaway running around in that green dress, I especially like that bit where the Meryl Streep character explains to the Anne Hathaway character that the clothes she wears are not merely stuff (I love the way she says that - 'stuff'.) No - high street fashions are the end result of a tremendous effort involving designers and fashion houses, selecting one colour over many other almost identical ones, cutting the shape just so, presenting it on the catwalks in Paris so that it will eventually end up in the local chain store so that we can buy it.

I know nothing about that world. Haute couture is a mystery to me. I'm an ordinary clothes wearer. I buy what I can find reasonably easily in the highstreet (or at the army surplus) if it seems to fit and will do the job and I can afford it. I'm not an expert. Life's too short. You can't be an expert in everything (or many things actually). There are people out there who really love and know about clothes and I have to trust them to provide me with things that will look ok and not fall apart immediately from the vast array of clothes that are produced, or could be produced in the world.

Most people who go to a garden centre are like me in H&M. They may even consider themselves keen gardeners. They no doubt buy the odd copy of Gardener's World, watch Titchmarsh on the telly from time to time, own a copy of the RHS Encyclopedia of Garden Plants. Many may know the names of most of the plants in their garden and a few others besides. They may be members of the RHS or NT. They're ordinary gardeners and quite right too. As I say, life's too short. They can't be an expert in everything and they have to trust the garden centre staff to provide them with plants that will grow well and look good from among the vast array of plants that are grown, or could be grown all over the world.

I can hear the hollow laughter from here ('Trust the staff? Hah!') but even so, I hear you say, if people want obscure Begonias, surely they can go to an obscure begonia nursery? There are plenty of specialist nurseries about. Each to his own. Live and let live, surely?

Unfortunately not. Small specialist nurseries only rarely sell only obscure and unusual plants, and generally only if they are not totally dependent on them for an income. Go to Crug farm in North Wales, renowned for being one of the finest purveyers of rare and obscure plants probably in the world, and if you look at their list you will also find pages and pages of hardy Geraniums on offer which have always been a bit of a speciality of theirs. They're probably less dependent on them now they're known all over the world but I'm fairly certain it was the Geraniums originally that gave them the freedom to offer all the obscure stuff.

For the grower, plants can be divided up into broadly two categories - those that are easy and quick to produce and those that are not. The best garden plants can be found in both groups. Many plants that are difficult to propagate are hardy and reliable once established in the garden. Now, the keen nurseryman will be trying to produce the best garden plants, probably based on his own tastes and experience. They will want to provide the best plants for their customers in the best possible state to transplant quickly and establish easily in the customer's garden. To do this they may need to talk to the customer and provide advice, even if that means discouraging them from buying something because it may disappoint. They will of course be trying to make a living at this, and one way of doing that will be to make sure they offer a range of plants in the 'quick and easy' category (eg Crug Farm's Geraniums) as well as the more awkward stuff.
The problem then with the garden centres, and the wholesalers who supply them is that they tend to cream off the 'quick and easy' plants and ignore the ones that are not (or in a few cases they may offer them as a 'speciality' or 'plantsman's' range of fashionable items with an extravagant price tag. The whole 'architectural' plants thing is the obvious example.)
Either way, the small specialist nursery, unless they are doing it for love, will be forced out of business. Live and let die, you might say.

Will the average punter even notice the loss? Highly doubtful, but the overall result is obvious - the apparent choice and variety at the garden centre masks the actual loss of diversity overall. I see it every time I go to one of these places, but then I've lived and breathed plants for the last thirty years.
Obviously which ornamental plants you can buy for your garden is not a life and death situation, but it does make me wonder about the supposed choice available in other products that I do not know so much about, such as food or clothes, finance or, for example, medicines; as the suppliers get larger in size and fewer in number.
Surely the free market is supposed to promote choice?

Fleeced

Fleece, originally uploaded by peganum.

I seem to have erected a tent inside my greenhouse. I lost so many things that were supposed to be protected in the greenhouse last year that I've just lined the entire thing with fleece this year (and installed a fan-heater.)
There was the option of using bubble wrap but, besides being pricier, it also accumulates condensation and then drips, which can lead to botrytis (grey mould) on any dead, sick or weak vegetation.
Some plants from Mediterranean and subtropical climes, although potentially hardy enough might not be used to the kind of dank overcast conditions we get. If you keep them too warm they may try to grow, but without enough light and heat the new growth may be pale and weak and prone to moulds and aphids.
The fact is, winter protection of tender plants is always a balancing act between keeping just enough warmth in, not letting the air stagnate and providing as much light as possible.

Lonicera crassifolia

A lovely little evergreen creeping (not climbing) honeysuckle for ground cover or rockery. Possibly too vigorous for a trough but not rampageous. Just to give you a sense of the scale, that's an ordinary winter heather there at the top.

 Another view of the same plant with heathers and thymes

1L pots ~ £8

Season of fruits and mellow mistfulness

I surprised myself this morning, strolling into town (to the dentist as it happens). It was wet and overcast and the leaves were really beginning to turn and fall, and I thought to myself what a relief it was that the summer was over. That's what surprised me. Normally I love the warm weather and tend to get a little depressed when it's over, but no, today I was positively buoyant.

The summer has been 'disappointing' they say, but then they say that every year. Normally I'd disagree but this year... What's it been? It's not been the rain - we've had something of a drought. Things have been looking quite sorry for themselves. Maybe it's been the sun. It's been dry, but it hasn't been bright, which is an unsatisfying state of affairs. This carried on until early October, by which time I was heartily sick of it. The cold and wet came as a welcome reprieve.

Actually I've known for a while I have a problem with August - memories of wet camping holidays as a child I expect. August is a con. It's not summer.  August is the overture to autumn (as February is the overture to spring). You can feel it in the air. May and June are summer. I noted this year that things started to go off soon after the solstice. You might have noticed if you've been keeping up with the Emma's Garden photoset on Flickr that there's a lot fewer pictures from July to September than for other times. There's just nothing photogenic going on (unless you're into macro when you can look at the flowers in isolation and ignore the total ho-humness of everything around them.)

So now I look around at the garden and am once again filled with energy. Finally I can do something. As you'll know by now I'm not a fan of the well ordered neat-and-tidy sort of garden and I don't cut things down until I have to, but there's been a few things I've been looking at since July and inwardly groaning. It's my first full year here and I'm still very much learning how to grow things on this soil (clay, not much sun - the total opposite to gardening on the chalk near Lewes.) Things really have taken off here, especially in what I call the sunny border (it's all relative.) The Diascia personata especially has formed a huge engulfing mass, obscuring several less vigorous plants that I hope will still be there when I come to cut the Diascia back (or remove most of it actually.) Salvia uliginosa, which I thought would stand up straight behind and amongst it has flopped over on top of it, and the Helianthus atrorubens, also included for the tall dark wiry stems I imagined would stand tall behind that, has also fallen forward over everything.  The problem is partly a red maple (bought as a standard tree some years back - it has never thrived), the fence behind and the path in front. Plants do not just passively fall over, they 'perceive' the path as an open space to grow into, and the tree and fence as shade and competition to grow away from. Hence they end up horizontal, getting trodden on. The mass of undergrowth was satisfying for a time - the Buddleia lindleyana held it's own well, the Eryngium giganteum elbowed its way up through the tangle, Gladiolus tristis shot up to 6ft high of so to get it's peculiar flowers into the light, like Diplodocus heads peering out of a thicket. But Rudbeckia maxima is under there somewhere, as are a couple of Dierama and two Decaisnea. I hope they'll recover. Kniphofia caulescens has definitely rotted off.

So anyway, perhaps you'll understand how, despite the fact that the Diascia and the Salvia are still blooming away, I'll be glad to get in there with the secateurs. The Diascia anyway I can honestly say I am thoroughly bored with. People always want to know about plants that just go on and on flowering all summer long, and if that's what you want I can heartily recommend it. You can have some of mine in fact (they're extremely easy from cuttings and totally hardy) but I'm sick of it. I like my season-long interest to come from the turn-over - things coming and going, changing places.

So that's one job. Whatever Diascia personata I keep will be further back, mixed in amongst everything else.

Then there's the huge Miscanthus in the middle of the border too. I can't wait for that to go over so I can have it out and do something better with that space. The maple will have to go too (it's had its chance) and the Lavatera Lilac Lady beside it. It's a good form - smaller that the commoner varieties and a nicer colour but not what I want now really. That'll leave a huge gap. I can't wait. Everything'll transpire a huge sigh of relief.

As for the rest of the garden - there's similar stories elsewhere. Mostly I'll leave the stems and old seed heads as long as I can - probably until January. I'll leave a stubble to discourage the dog from wandering about snapping off the new growths in spring. I'll make hazel 'bird-cages' for the Salvia and the Helianthus to grow through to support them through next summer. I've taken down the Bronze Fennel because I don't want too many of her offspring - lovely as she is.

People assume fallen leaves smother plants but except for small evergreens (lawns for example) that's rarely so, and the worms take them away and feed the soil in the process. People also like to cut things down as soon as possible after flowering - to get a second flush of flowers or make the plant put it's resources into the roots instead of the seed heads. I'm not sure either of these things make that much difference to most plants. I think it's more about neat and tidiness and I prefer the untidy textures and colours of autumn.

Which brings me back to my original point. When the dusty, listless scruffiness of August gave way to death's rich tapestry a couple of weeks back it was a release. Last 'summer' seemed interminable, but now, here we are, ready to move on again...

Persicaria virginiana and filiformis

Persicaria virginiana Compton's form
This American species is not that often offered, possibly because the flowers are quite small bright red filaments and appear in Autumn. A magnificent foliage plant though - as good as many of the tropical Calatheas and Marantas (prayer plants). The leaf surface has a real lustre - richly coloured and with an odd black chevron - I know not why.

A good solid perennial for any soil in sun or semi shade. Height up to 4ft and not at all invasive.
£8

Persicaria filiformis

Originally bought as P.virginiana filiformis. I recently discovered (researching the next plant) that despite superficial similarities with virginiana, this is in fact an Asian species. This is a more lightly built species up to only 2ft tall but with exquisite velvet lustrous lime green leaves, and again with that dark chevron.

The red filamentous inflorescences are produced earlier, in late summer/early autumn. It does seed about a little but in a good way. Very adaptable but best on moist soils
£8

Hardy Impatiens

I keep on telling people that these things are hardy but they don't really believe me. The look on their face says 'Yes but not really', and I say, no, they've all survived outdoors in the ground both here and on our heavy soil at home, and they still don't really believe it, but I can promise you. There is in fact a narrow shady raised bed at the nursery only 6ins deep over the Mypex where three of them - arguta, uniflora and puberula are in danger of taking over. They even seem to do quite well in dry shade under shrubs. Almost too good to be true.
People are always wanting plants for shady places that flower on and on all summer. Well here they are. Come and get them...

Impatiens arguta, originally uploaded by peganum.

Impatiens arguta

The most reliable hardy species here in Sussex -  even in dry shade. A vigorous species with large tubular purple flowers on red stems. Ideal for any shady situation and flowering all summer. 

A large plant in the border at the nursery in late October. What's not to like?
1L pots ~ £8

Impatiens puberula

Another hardy purple flowered species, this time with soft green, somewhat fuzzy foliage. The flowers are more chubby with dark purple lips and a paler 'bag' behind, if you see what I mean.

Needs the same conditions as arguta but is more spreading as the stems root where they touch the ground.

£6

Impatiens stenantha

Another excellent hardy species for exactly the same conditions as the others. The foliage and stems have a distinct wine purple tint.
Sold out

Caryopteris divaricata

The name Caryopteris is usually associated with a bunch of rather grey twiggy subshrubs grown mainly because they flower very late in the season (C. x clandonensis and the like). C.divaricata is very different - making a lush green upright bush and dying down completely in winter. The late flowering is the same but the flowers themselves are much more interesting as can be seen from the photo. Those of you who know the tropical Clerodendron (or Rotheca) myricoides (or ugandense) would be right in thinking they look suspiciously similar, with those long curling filaments and rounded purple blue petals. They are related.

Another well-known purveyor of rare plants describes the flowers as merely ‘harmless’ which I think is a bit unfair. They’re not huge or especially plentiful, but they are beautifully crafted and jolly pretty. The only down side is the foliage which has an odd odour (one customer calls it The OXO plant) so don't plant it too near the path unless you like that sort of thing. Also the stems are quite brittle so best planted amongst other things out of the wind.

Totally hardy and very adaptable. I will soon have a few of the pink flowered form available too.
3L pots ~ £8