Neat and crisp and even...
This garden set in rural Perthshire is a symphony of structure and detail, with interesting trees and numerous plant collections
One of the most important things when creating a garden is its location. And although when Mike and Elsa Thompson arrived at Eastbank Cottage in 1984 the garden was just an extended veg patch with a couple of time-expired conifers, they had a feeling it could be something special.
“It was a blank canvas really,” says Mike, a former sales manager, “but you can’t beat the setting. We sit in a valley, overlooking the River Earn, with the Ochil Hills on the one side and the Sidlaws on the other. The views are fantastic: you can’t see many other houses and when the hills are covered in snow the sunsets are magical.”
The low wall that surrounds the garden gives it pleasingly crisp edges against the backdrop of farmland. The house is in the centre of the plot, and this 360-degree aspect creates a huge range of planting opportunities that Mike has exploited to the maximum.
A keen gardener from the outset, he started by planting trees and shrubs which, 30 years on, create a strong structure even in the depths of winter. “We’ve some rather special trees,” he says proudly. “There’s a Metasequoia glyptostroboides ‘Gold Rush’, not your big fellow, it
only gets to about 14 feet, but it’s a gorgeous colour in the sunlight. I planted the wedding cake tree,
Cornus controversa ‘Variegata’, 25 years ago and I have Cornus
florida ‘Cherokee Chief’ as well. It’s a beauty, but it doesn’t do its bracts every year. I suppose it may be the weather,” he says.
Here, winter brings out the detail. A mature Magnolia stellata is a vision in spring, but now, full of furry buds, it adds unexpected texture. Frost-rimed leaves of evergreens such as skimmia, euonymus and cotoneaster, and an extensive array of rhododendrons and azaleas, are colourful and robust without being heavy.
The soil is magnificent and the valley’s microclimate congenial, but the garden is not without its challenges. “We don’t have many perennials, they just don’t do well. I love dahlias and we had
marvellous rose beds at our last house, but we can’t get to grips with them here. Slugs got the delphiniums and the roses took a kicking in the winter. So we swapped them for hydrangeas, which thrive.”
Mike and Elsa have taken their lead from nearby Branklyn Garden, owned by the National Trust for Scotland. “We grow the same sort of stuff as they do. They have the National Collection of meconopsis and it likes it here, too!”
Between his shrubs and trees, Mike creates collections and tableaux. Thirty varieties of hosta are underplanted with spring bulbs such as Scilla siberica, Iris reticulata, snowdrops, and miniature narcissus such as ‘Jack Snipe’ and ‘Jenny’. “Small daffodils do better here than tall ones, as we get quite a wind from the west. It whips down the Strathtay Valley, with nothing to stop it!”
Running along the side of the drive, a little burn with an artistic series of waterfalls is flanked by ferns and snowdrops. And, despite the catastrophe of the delphiniums, neither trilliums nor hostas suffer unduly from slug damage. The couple put this down to a little bit of local help. “We’re visited by a couple of hedgehogs and the thrushes come in, so you find hundreds of empty snail shells,” says Mike.
At this time of year, he gardens consistently, but with a light hand. “I’m out there nearly every day. I keep the edges of the lawn as neat as I can but I don’t mow it too short, it isn’t a bowling green!”
In the borders, weeds are controlled by hoeing frequently but shallowly, to avoid damaging
the bulbs. Each winter he feeds the soil with slow-release fertiliser, then mulches over the top with bark.
An important December job is to tend the collection of clematis. “I trim them to four feet – no higher as the wind rocks them,” he explains, “then in February I reduce the ones that need it to 12 to 18 inches. I tidy the Clematis
montana varieties now, but not so much that you lose the flowers. They get untidy and straggly if you leave them and if they get into the trees, it’s a dickens of a job to get them out.”
But the main winter pursuit in this rural garden is pleasure. The acers and birch trees are elegant, even though their colours are more muted than before. The frost gives leaves and twigs a luminous quality in the quiet, cold dawn. “It’s stunning,” says Mike. “Absolutely magical.”