Naomi’s on a garden rescue mission
An unseasonably warm winter has made my plants confused and sent slugs wild!
As gardeners, we have a bit of a love-hate relationship with winter. On the one hand, it lets us browse seed catalogues in peace, while the cold sweetens the parsnips and primes the garlic. On the other, we grumble about frost damage and pray that our tender perennials make it through.
This year, however, January was unseasonably warm. In fact, it was flagged as one of the warmest on record, with an average mean temperature of 5.6C (42F) across the country and very few incidences of frost. So, at the time of writing, I've no concerns at all about the health and heartiness of my dahlias and succulents. But another problem is rearing its head – the plants are forge ing it’s technically still winter and they’re all starting to grow.
Roses are often ambitious in sending out new shoots, but even they're excelling themselves and the clematis is sprouting green and strong. Shrubs like Sambucus nigra and spiraea are breaking bud and the hydrangea has almost-full sets of new leaves, without bothering to shed most of last year’s foliage!
Worse, for the eco-friendly organic gardener, the wildlife is only vaguely dormant at best, engendering more mixed feelings. Glad as I am to see a ladybird, I really feel that it should be tucked up somewhere sheltered, having a good nap. A bit of cold to slow the slugs and aphids down, meanwhile, would be a real bonus.
Ah yes, slugs. This balmy situation quite frankly is giving them the upper hand. They've properly got their teeth into the snowdrops and are also gnawing down on other tenderly emerging shoots, such as a recently divided hellebore that is still weak, a young daphne, and, ironically,
Brunnera macrophylla ‘Jack Frost’. Only one solution presents itself: to dig up the vulnerable specimens and grow them on in pots, somewhere safe, until they’re big enough and hard enough to fend off the molluscs.
With the hellebore showing signs of recovery, I’m mounting a rescue mission for a new-ish clematis, too; it was doing well for a while, but with tender shoots at the base it might as well be wearing a sign that says ‘eat me’! Which is why I’m blessing my small-garden good fortune – when you can easily spot a plant in trouble, you can usually save it!