FIRE & FROST
Flaming red and gold stems contrast spectacularly with carpets of frosty snowdrops in Jackie and John Copping’s cottage garden in Essex
Red and gold stems contrast beautifully against frosty snowdrops in this cottage garden
The first encounter with John and Jackie Copping’s garden presents a series of beckoning paths that wander idly through woodland, past borders, to linger in shady retreats or sunlit spaces. ‘I like things to flow — after all, there’s no such thing as a straight line in nature,’ says Jackie.
Her concept is based on the idea of a journey, which is depicted through the use of paths, some of which are clear, while others are more obscure. ‘I wanted the garden to be meaningful — everything has a deeper connection,’ she explains. Beneath a great willow lies a grass spiral cut into the turf in ever-decreasing circles. ‘Following the path, without needing to think where you are going, provides an opportunity for thoughts to emerge,’ she explains, ‘and, on reaching the touchstone in the middle, you can stop and reflect.’
While the paths, created from gravel, mown grass, bark, wood or stepping stones, form the garden’s structure, it is the planted beds and layout that create points of interest along the way.
Twenty-five years since the couple moved in, little of the original planting survives save an old apple tree, several birches and willows in the front garden. Today, it is John and Jackie’s seven grandchildren who frequent the garden, each new birth celebrated with the planting of a Betula albosinensis ‘Fascination’, creating a small spinney near the driveway.
The garden started to take shape when John meticulously shaved away the soil around the sides of the house to create gentle, sloping paths in place of pre-existing steps. ‘We wanted to create a smooth, unbroken transition from one area to another,’ she says.
Once the paths were laid, the borders fell into place as part of the journey through the garden. Each one has evolved according>
❝THE BRICK FOLLY IS OPEN TO THE ELEMENTS, YET PROTECTED FROM THE WIND. IT WAS INTENDED AS A PEACEFUL PLACE TO SIT QUIETLY, AND STIRS THE SENSES❞
to its conditions — shady, sunny, dry or wet. In winter, there are carpets of snowdrops naturalised in the lawns, while the borders are filled with coloured stems, hellebores, tiny reticulata irises and fragrant plants — witch hazels, viburnums and winter jasmine.
‘The strength of this garden in winter is its structure,’ she adds.
Jackie’s skill as a textile artist manifests in the clever use of colours and textures to create dynamic planting schemes in which individual plants come to the fore through the seasons. In spring, the garden becomes increasingly enclosed as leaves unfurl on limes, blackthorn, parrotia, willow and beech. Meanwhile, the woodland fills out with forget-me-nots, cow parsley and buttercups. ‘I love the relaxed looseness of the primroses and long grasses, although John would prefer more control.’ Forget-me-nots are a staple, filling bare gaps throughout the year. ‘They’re happy, undemanding plants that then make great compost,’ she says.
Jackie is especially drawn to the intense colour of plants. Summer heralds a succession of oriental poppies, ‘Annabelle’ hydrangeas, hardy geraniums, verbenas, alchemilla and heleniums. Then, come winter, it is the coppery red flowers of witch hazel ‘Diane’, flaming stems of Cornus ‘Midwinter Fire’ or rich pink clusters on Viburnum bodnantense that stand out on the dullest day. However, the true stars of the show are the snowdrops that flower in the lawns.
The first snowdrops came from a neighbour. ‘Her garden was a mass of snowdrops, and she told us to help ourselves, so we planted them “in the green” in the front garden,’ says Jackie. Disappointingly, squirrels ate all but one, so the next year snowdrops were planted in the back garden where they readily established, spreading year >
❝A neighbour’s garden was a mass of snowdrops, and she told us to help ourselves. Symbolising hope and rebirth, they are especially pertinent right now
on year. ‘Symbolising hope and rebirth, snowdrops are especially pertinent in light of the coronavirus epidemic’, says Jackie.
Being at the summit of a hill, the garden is windy, but Jackie finds the sound and sight of wind moving trees exhilarating. ‘I particularly love to see and hear the wind rustling the Miscanthus giganteus — it has a majestic feel as it bends and sways,’ says Jackie. Cutting this towering ornamental grass back each winter is a labour of love, but seeing the stripped, golden stems shining in a wintry sun more than compensates. Growing well over two metres tall, the line of Miscanthus giganteus separates the patio area from the driveway, forming a dense leafy screen in summer.
Originally the patio was shaded by one of two centenarian walnut trees. ‘Then, without warning, one of them fell down in front of my eyes,’ explains Jackie. The walnut lives on as slices of trunk, incorporated into paths around the garden, or tucked away as havens for insects. Inevitably, they are also home to slugs and snails, a constant challenge. ‘And the occasional deer takes the heads off whatever they fancy, but it’s such a privilege to see them in the garden,’ she adds. A compost heap is tucked away in a shady corner, generating as much as they need to regularly mulch the borders.
Over the years, Jackie and John have absorbed influence from many people and their gardens, but she especially recalls the Garden of Cosmic Speculation created by Charles Jencks in Scotland. ‘It felt like our own garden, but on a much larger scale, and reminded me not to lose sight of our concept.’
John and Jackie plant to open the garden in aid of the National Garden Scheme on Valentine’s Day. Visit ngs.org.uk