AQUILEGIAS
My favourite These enchanting, exquisite flowers that come in a rainbow of colours are staging a comeback
To have a plant that springs into verdant life early in the year with the freshest of maidenhair fern foliage, which a few weeks later enchants with flowers from a fairy’s milliner in rainbow colours, is a treat indeed. The fact that such a plant is accommodating, easy to grow and often makes more of itself by self-seeding is an added bonus.
It seems strange that two birds as different as the eagle (aquila in Latin) and the dove (columbus) should both give their name to the same flower – the aquilegia, or columbine. The petals are supposed to resemble the outspread wings of these birds, and the spurs their arched necks and heads. Whichever name you use, this genus offers some of the most garden-worthy and ornamental of plants.
Aquilegias were always one of those plants that we took for granted, if you had them in your garden they would always be there. But five or six years ago they began to die. Trays full of healthy young plants here at Glebe Cottage began to look unwell, leaves became distorted and discoloured and eventually plants died. It wasn’t just in my garden that this happened – everywhere aquilegias were exhibiting the same symptoms, with National Collections decimated.
The disease was identified as powdery mildew, one specific to aquilegias and nothing to do with the powdery mildew that struck down busy Lizzies. The only cure is to burn affected plants.
Haven’t we had enough of death and disease? Yes, but in the garden here aquilegias are starting to reappear and looking very healthy to boot. It would be interesting to know what’s happening in your gardens. My friend Camilla, who's a researcher on the BBC's Chelsea programme and presented a very
Both our proper apples, a ‘Discovery’ close to the pond and a ‘Cox’s Orange Pippin’ in Annie’s garden, were in full bloom during the last couple of weeks. Dean had pruned them well and, though before their leaves and flowers opened they looked quite stark in silhoue e, their blossom softened their shape.
Both they and the big crab apple, malus ‘Golden Hornet’, have been a delight and perhaps even more evocative than their pink and white blossom has been the sound of buzzing bees. interesting and entertaining piece on daffodils herself for Gardeners' World earlier this year, has just sent me pictures of three of the aquilegias in her garden. Two are forms of Aquilegia vulgaris with simple, elegant flowers. Probably a strain called ‘Hensol Harebell’, predominantly deep blue but occasionally pink, white or various shades of purple. They have full, comely flowers, stately deportment, and a strong constitution.
A. longissima is an exquisite flower. Its petals are a pale, soft, buttery yellow, and its spurs – of a deeper yellow, and sometimes up to 15cm (6in) long – are swept elegantly back.
The aquilegia family is widespread in the northern hemisphere: Europe and Asia, as well as America, have their own columbines. Many of the North American species are short-lived,
Apple blossom always reminds me of the
Malvern Spring
Gardening Festival, my favourite show. We can’t all meet there this spring, but, fingers crossed, I'll hope to meet up with lots of you when the apples are ripening at
The Malvern Autumn Show on September 26 and 27 (www.malvernautumn.co.uk). but they can be grown easily from seed. Most species come true from seed if they’re isolated from others, but the whole family has a reputation for promiscuity – incest, even. In gardens where the native A. vulgaris dominates, forms of varying colour and shape can occur. It's these self-made hybrids that have inspired the epithet ‘granny's bonnets’.
A. alpina, as the name suggests, is from the Alps, where it grows in shady woodland margins and among rocks. Found in the same region, but growing in meadows rather than higher up the slopes, is an aquilegia with almost black flowers, A. atrata. This is probably one of the parents used to create the fashionable ‘black-and-white’ hybrids. 'William Guinness', is widely available as a seed strain.
Aquilegias lend themselves to cottagey or semi-wild settings. Most relish dappled shade. They love deep, rich soil. Most garden varieties don't resent clay, but alpine types prefer well-drained loam. When planting, work in extra humus: old muck or garden compost is best. Mulch with the same material.
Remove seed heads before they disperse their contents, otherwise the parent plant may be crowded out by its own offspring. Save the seed and sow it fresh if you want more plants elsewhere.