Oamaru
Eden Bradfield is determined to make something grow behind the shed.
Yet other plants soldier on, particularly in my dry garden where the euphorbias resemble some kind of pre-Jurassic creature, and the wallflowers stubbornly climb higher and higher, as if trying to compete with the fence. I didn’t set out to create a dry garden – I find dry gardens rather naff. (It might be sacrilegious to say it out loud, but I don’t worship at the altar of Beth Chatto.)
Perhaps it’s a misnomer to call it a dry garden – Oamaru can be wet, so let’s call it an unirrigated garden, which is less catchy but more accurate for all you pedants out there. But there was a patch at the back of the garden which refused to grow anything, aside from a lone flax which somehow resisted extermination. I assume at some point this part of the garden had been sprayed with some ghastly chemical.
So I took it upon myself to make something grow.
I went to the recycle centre which has an excellent garden department, run by the lovely Elizabeth, and I purchased euphorbias, clutches of santolina (the grey, spiky, slightly drab kind), wallflowers ( Erysimum ‘Poem Lavender’ mostly, a newish variety) and purple sage.
I threw in some Echinacea purpurea which I had growing, less successfully, by the lemongrass.
I planted bergamot thyme in a slightly tacky and ancient statue of a boy holding a tray I can’t bear to get rid of (one of those inherited garden statues which sit there, daring you to get rid of it).
More additions: ‘Violetta di Chioggia’, the globe artichoke, which I grew from seed. I adore Violetta. It emerges wtih a violet head, and then as it expires it does so with a delicious froth of purple, and eventually rounds off into a stately brown. I mostly grow globe artichokes for their architectural value, though you can, of course, eat them. The wonderful thing with artichokes, and most of these plants, really, is that they require little care. Rain irrigation is plenty.
Now I cannot live without Pelargonium tomentosum, the mint geranium. They have a gentle furriness about them and smell like mint due to the quantity of menthol they possess, especially if you rub your fingers among the leaves. It will die off and come back, and grow prolifically. I like to use it as a groundcover which has the bonus of smelling divine.
I have a lot of heritage hollyhock seeds from the Koanga Institute, which the packet assures me are from an elderly woman’s garden at Muriwai. Normally I detest hollyhocks. But then I remembered the immortal Diana Vreeland’s quote, “Too much good taste can be very boring” (she also said, “people who eat white bread have no dreams” so she was clearly onto something). So I sowed these hollyhock seeds, which apparently will be varying shades of pink.
During lockdown, I found myself less enthused about gardening.
I watered my seedlings dutifully, and sometimes, I got the hose and watered the roses (now deadheaded and unbeautiful) listlessly, just for something to do.
We did not have a whole lot of rain here in Oamaru. We had an Indian summer (an Antipodes summer?) where the sun shone rather more than it did in summer, until it didn’t. Imagine my surprise when I finally strolled up to the dry garden (which is located behind the potting shed) and saw life. A strange scene, to be sure – not the beauty of wild roses and so on, but the beauty of plants determined to survive, despite frankly horrid soil conditions.
Euphorbias will die off in winter. Oamaru is subject to frosts. Wallflowers will not. Wallflowers, like hellebores, are something of a saviour in winter. The santolina will need a good cutting back (if you choose to plant it – it’s not for everyone). And not a delicate cutting either. A military buzz cut will do the trick. It will come back.
The other star is the magnificent marguerite daisy ( Argyranthemum frutescens). I had obtained a cutting from my friend Kirsty, and it grows and grows and grows. It is a doer. Kirsty’s has turned into a glorious hedge. I once had a conversation with a gentleman of aged years who said, “but that’s a weed!”. I said, “No, it’s a daisy bush.”
The delightful thing about marguerite daisies is that they provide colour all year round. Winter does not daunt them. If you need flowers for a friend, they are always available to pick. They strike from cuttings easily and grow at a rapid pace. You could always cut it back, or pot it, or train it to grow up a wall. ✤