Terraced garden full of autumn colour
Sitting above Perthshire’s River Tay, the garden at Little Tombuie is brimming with autumn colour
THE MOLTEN COLOURS of tree-lined slopes rise above the River Tay, reflecting in its surface as it winds through the narrow valley. Far above its upper reaches, the track that leads to Little Tombuie branches off from a narrow country road overhung with trees and climbs steeply into the autumn sunshine. The converted dairy, which is home to Sally and Donald Crystal, is part of a farmhouse complex that has been in their family since the 1950s. It sits at 550ft (168m) above sea level, and the surrounding hills are covered in some of the finest grouse moors in Scotland. Perthshire is known for its big trees and is the birthplace of some of the world’s greatest plant hunters, including David Douglas and Archibald Menzies. The legacy of their adventures is a landscape that smoulders like a bonfire as the year wanes and temperatures begin to drop. Shimmering golds and reds of every shade transform the countryside, intensifying when cold weather and bright sunshine conspire to convert the sugar in the leaves of deciduous trees into fuel for their spectacular autumn show.
Drainage legacy
Lying at the very heart of Scotland, at times Perthshire can be bitterly cold, with harsh frosts and deep snow. Rain levels are high, but at Little Tombuie, which faces south, there is a problem with lack of water. The reason lies just beneath the soil, in a network of drains that have been channelling water away from the house for more than two centuries. “They were laid by Napoleonic prisoners of war, and they still work today,” says Sally. “The only time they fail is when they break under the weight of heavy modern tractors, which happens from time to time.” Prisoners were held at what is now HMP Perth and put to work on agricultural and building projects across the county. The drains they laid at Little Tombuie still serve to prevent land around the farmhouse from becoming saturated with rainwater pouring off the rocky slopes above it and into the garden. To compensate, Sally waters new plantings generously until they are sufficiently established to seek out moisture themselves. The entrance to the house is through a whitewashed courtyard containing some of the dozens of stone cheese presses David has collected over time from surrounding farms. They had lain discarded after the practice for farmers across Scotland to make their own cheese was abandoned. Now they make a decorative feature, with more displayed throughout the garden. The way into the garden lies through the house and out the other side, where a door in the sitting room opens onto a gently sloping lawn. “When we arrived here, this was much steeper, but we brought in a bulldozer and levelled it as much as possible,” says Sally.
From here there are spectacular views across the Tay Valley to the hills beyond, and she loves to watch the progress of autumn as it transforms the scene. Her favourite trees for autumn colour are the limes and elms. “They both go a beautiful yellow, and it looks magnificent,” she says. “The limes turn first, then the elms.”
Layers of trees
This is a working deer farm, so high fences separate the garden from the surrounding fields. However, these barriers do not prevent pheasants which come in to peck among the plants in the vegetable garden above the terraces. These broad terraces are filled with plants that relish their place in the sun, including swathes of persicaria that carry their bright pink flowers well into autumn. “My mother-in-law created the terraces but, by the time we moved here, they had begun to crumble, so I took a course in dry stone walling and have mended them myself,” says Sally. It has been a lengthy task and one that is ongoing as she replaces stones when they have come loose, creating curves to break up the walls’ straight lines. “I’ve fallen off them a few times. You have to watch your step,” she adds. The most arresting feature on the terraces is an acer that flames into scarlet, spilling its leaves into a rich carpet of colour. Sally has raised its canopy by removing the lower branches in order to allow planting beneath it and to tame its tendency to grow wild and become unkempt. There are tulip trees, medlars and quince trees, and a mulberry flourishes here too, untroubled by temperatures that dip well below freezing in winter. “We have espaliered it against a wall to give it some protection,” she says. “It is only in its fourth year, but so far it is surviving.” Acers, however, can be tricky to grow at Little Tombuie. “They have a tendency to be nipped by the frost, but Acer sieboldii is one of the best, and it gives us weeks of brilliant colour.”
Growing from seed
Sally did not take up gardening until she retired, but has since become an expert propagator. What she loves growing best of all are trees, a passion that sneaked up on her once her interests began to turn to gardening. Through experience, she
Ernest Dowson, ‘Autumnal’ “Pale amber sunlight falls across The reddening October trees, That hardly sway before a breeze As soft as summer; summer’s loss Seems little, dear! on days like these.”
has found how to get the best from them and has discovered that planting trees from seed is the secret to growing a wide variety of species in an exposed location. “Trees of some species were struggling to survive here, but grown from seed, the same trees have flourished.” She is kept busy in her propagating house, which is in a greenhouse attached to the main farmhouse, with seed sent back from foreign destinations by her son Fergus, a botanist. Recently, she and Donald have planted an arboretum of some of the best selections, following in the footsteps of the plant hunters whose introductions have made Perthshire one of Scotland’s most beautiful counties. The arboretum is situated in a field to one side of the farmstead, but the garden itself lies on the east side, with the terraces to the south. And here, as well as trees, there is an abundance of shrubs, including the winged spindle tree, Euonymus alatus, which is unsurpassed for autumn colour, and several types of dogwood. Altitude and temperature have an influence on what will grow here, but often the smallest change in position is enough to help an ailing plant thrive. “The lavender on the top level was really struggling. One gardener who came to