Gardening In The Time Of Covid-19*

I have felt a deep affection for our garden during the past ten years, so it's challenging to express how much more I presently love it as France completes its third day of lockdown while spring makes its much awaited appearence.

Foreground: off the patio white sweet alyssum, red tulip, abelia, irises, ivy-covered pergola pillar; background: lawn and that wide, brown smear is the asparagus bed.

Our larder and freezer is well stocked allowing us to refrain from food shopping (which is permitted but only if carrying a self-signed certificate printed from the government's website) which is mutually beneficial for us and others. But fresh can't be beat and the seven-year-old asparagus bed has begun in earnest last week popping out spears. Though their delectable taste lessens each day of storage, cutting off the woody ends (trimmings can be used for making stock), placing the asparagus upright in a jar with 2.5 cm (an inch) of water, and covering with a plastic bag keeps their flavour longer. In this way enough can be harvested to make a soup.

Rhubarb will soon be on its way.

In about a week, pea shoots will be ready for picking. Ah, fresh greens!

In about two months, raspberries born on last season's canes will be ripe. Once harvested, those canes will be cut almost to the ground, and new ones will grow enabling a second crop for September.

Strawberries will be ready by beginning of May.

I haven't planted any new tulips last autumn and hope what is in the ground will do their thing soon. Presently, there are single show stoppers like an Apeldoorn Darwin Hybrid bud peeking out in between an ivy-covered fence and a Leyland cypress hedge . . .

. . . and this sprightly Seadov Triumph tulip sprouting on the compost under a rusty pole . . .

. . . and finally this Purple Dream lily-flowered tulip gracing the front garden.

A sizable expanse of low-growing, evergreen periwinkle (Vinca minor) just off the front entrance staircase is full of their lovely blue blooms. 

À la prochaine!

* Yes, Love In The Time Of Cholera by Márquez inspired my post title!

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Pairing Roses With Ivy; Plus Lilies Of The Valley, Yucca, Tulips & Calla Lillies

Our garden seems to be the only one festooned with beautifying ivy in our quartier. Perhaps because so many think that ivy is the great destroyer of buildings? In the past, gardeners weren't frightened of its power to cover. It was well clipped. And that it what happens chez nous. I take the shears to it at least four times yearly. Its colour is quite dark and foreboding during winter, but when spring comes along, oh, such a bright, friendly green says, hello! I also hose down ivy covering the pergola and alongside one boundary fence about twice yearly. Become friends with your ivy, and the birds who eat its berries during winter when there isn't much else in the larder will thank you. In addition, roses look scrumptious against a background of ivy. 

Ferdinand Pichard (bred by Rémi Tanne France, 1921) is a fragrant, reblooming Bourbon rose. Its pink, cupped flowers are heavily striped with white, crimson, and magenta.

Next to it, is probably another old rose, but unfortunately I have yet been able to identify it. The texture and colour has a mysterious quality. Depending on the angle and distance from which it is seen, it shimmers between coral velvet and pink silk. Its blooms are quartered and huge with a stupendous fragrance. And it loves ivy.

My gardening approach is to watch plants grow so as to ascertain what the best interface with them is. In the process, I get to learn a lot. For example, ivy can gussy up a leggy rose without killing it. Of course, the rose in question is a toughie. I suspect it has been around many decades, scraping out nourishment from being planted smack next to the patio. Miniature gladioli have sidled up to it too. It seems it's a magnet for other plants.

On the first of May in France, sellers of lily of the valley take to the streets for it is a traditional practice to give said blooms to loved ones. Years ago, a neighbour gave me a few plants, and now, they have spread, covering four times their original area. They self-seed readily, and apparently learning the beautifying lesson from the ivy, they fill in cement cracks and grow around the lavender, naturally snuffing out what was once the stomping grounds of some serious weeds like thistles and bindweed.

What a delight it is to bring in a bunch of lily-of-the-valley indoors! Gradually its fragrance filled up my office with its fresh, sweet scent making me feel that somehow I am outdoors in the garden while I write this post.

When the yucca was planted here about ten years ago it had already spent nearly ten years as a potted specimen on our Grenoble balcony. In its former location, it had a wonderful view of the Belledonne range dotted with villages and church steeples. In its present location, I like to think though the view can't match what it had in the past, its robust growth is telling me that it's actually happier here because this spikey beauty can spread its roots. Providing a dramatic background, it's a perfect foil for the fluffy heads of Blue Parrot tulips.

Blue Parrot tulips are closer to lavender in terms of colour, with a bronzy sheen, however their white centres contain an irregular areola of true blue.

In the small patio cut-out, the calla lilies are flourishing most likely at the expense of the Queen Elizabeth shrub rose.

Our garden location is a fortunate one because though it is an urban setting, it is right on the edge of the city giving unobstructed sky views. Having such spaciousness overhead accentuates the coziness of the garden even more.

À la prochaine!

Mostly Tulips But Also Periwinkle, Spiraea, Lamium & Ivy

As I dash around doing my late-day garden rounds, flashes of bright colour skim my peripheral vision, and though I know they are tulips which I planted with anticipatory passion last autumn, for a fleeting moment, I forget their identity and succumb to magical thinking that this swirl of pink, purple, peach, and white comprises a sentient presence of some sort. Garden fairies, perhaps? Here's hoping these shining, bright goblets of varied hues in our front garden bring respite to weary workers returning home via cars and buses rumbling past.

Also: Candytuft (Iberis sempervirens), Heuchera 'Stormy Seas', immature Lawson's cypress

Purple Dream Lily-flowered Tulips were mostly dug up this past autumn during my planting for this season's tulip display, but a few escaped my spade and graciously made a reappearance, though with slightly faded and smaller blooms. If an impressive presentation is desired it is best for fresh tulip bulbs to be positioned each autumn. However, to get a few more seasons from your tulip investment, plant them in a bed away from the public eye so if the flowering is lacklustre, it at least won't have the spotlight but still be enjoyed. It's best to dig them up after the foliage died unless they are in an area that gets no summer irrigation as to prevent them from rotting. Store in a cool, dark place until needed.

Miss Elegance Triumph Tulip is a favourite choice of mine because of its midseason blooming, ruffled edges, and delicate shade of pink.

Next season I will showcase them in pots as their smaller stature would benefit from the loftiness provided by containers.

Dordogne Single Late Tulips have huge pink and apricot blooms on tall stems.

They look gorgeous cradled in the fresh, green growth of the lavender hedge.

The golden tones of Dordogne tulips complement the colour of Blue Parrot Tulips perfectly as they bloom at the same time.  Next season, I am planning to plant them closer together. 

I always wanted to recreate a horticultural scene glimpsed several decades ago when we lived in California and have retained in my visual memory since then. The sight of a lushly planted expanse of evergreen periwinkle sheltered from the heat in a shady spot had caught my eye because the small blue flowers sparkled with a silky sheen as if they were stars in a night sky, all cool and welcoming. Like many perennials, they took time to meet the challenge I presented to them, and now, about five years after their planting, the original five plants have made an area of about 150 cm (5 ft) by 300 cm (10 ft) their home. The blooms have been going for the last two months! Their glossy foliage forms a beautiful ground cover year round.

Lamium galeobdolan is another perennial case in point. Several years ago three plants were placed a few feet apart. They are now covering a much larger space. Like periwinkle, their long stems root into the soil. The spiraea is drooping over the lamium, the lamium is grazing the driveway's low wall, and sweet violets have self-seeded themselves in the angle between wall and driveway. Great show!

Ivy covering perimeter fences, shed, and pergola has been duly given its spring clipping. And yes, it is yet another perennial case in point. There were a few plants scattered here and there ten years ago upon our arrival, and now lots of eyesores are covered in calming dark green, giving the garden much needed 'green bones' and privacy. If those benefits weren't enough, its berries are an excellent source of winter food for birds. It does need around 3-4 clippings a year and watering during the dry season to do as well as it has.

À la prochaine!

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Tulip Season Draws to a Close

Tulip bulbs planted in the front garden last autumn were done in a frenzy because chilly winds had begun a routine of frosting the morning soil. They now are entering another stage, not of potential, but of senescence. Some late bloomers like lovely Viridiflora Chinatown, decked out in cream, pink, and green flounces postpone the moment when there will be no tulips playing in the breeze.

I agree with Dorothea Lange that The camera is an instrument that teaches people how to see without a camera. After taking numerous photographs the last six years for this blog, I more readily spot intriguing textures, as in the Viridiflora petals resembling embossed and striated satin.

Blue Parrot is closer to a blend of mauve and lavender, but still a stunner.

. . . and quite statuesque, towering over Apricot Parrots.

Sky High Scarlet cottage tulips glow in their corner of the lavender hedge.

In the back garden, ruffled Bearded Irises and elegant calla lilies provide a pleasing combination.

That's one of two green pea beds in the centre of the photo

Hairlike structures on the falls (3 lower drooping petals) constitute the beard which guides pollinators to the flower's reproductive parts.

A calla lily bud just beginning to unfurl freshens the evening mist like a slice of lime does water.

The setting sun splashes gold on bushes and lawn which is a beloved sight when my gardening day ends.

The pile of 'hay' is comprised of dried grass clippings and will be put on the pea beds for mulching.

Note asparagus spears in the lower right corner!

À la prochaine!

The Tulips Keep Coming . . .

The plethora of tulips planted in the front garden last autumn are about three-quarters into their season. Pieter de Leur, a lily-flowered variety, present their glossy, huge, crimson blooms in front of still-in-bud, late-season, Sky High Scarlet cottage tulips.

Surrounding lavender bushes are putting out new green growth

This single Pieter de Leur looks as if it's floating in green ether.

Nearby, Apricot Parrot tulips dazzle with their flamboyant form and colour.

Some Pieter de Leur and Apricot Parrot along with pink Miss Elegance and Daydream (starts out yellow then blends into apricot) wind up in a flower brick.

Viridiflora tulip, China Town may be demure, but also unforgettable, with its shell pink streaked with vibrant green.

The entrance path separates the plum tree, abelia, and tulips from some purple bearded irises.

Varigated Lamium galeobdolon loves the shade, self propagates readily, and its foliage and yellow flowers look wonderful against grey rocks.

Dirac the Cat opened an eye to let me know that he is safely tucked within the candytuft away from rambunctious Eli the kitten. I warned him not to let down his guard so soon . . .

. . . as he has left a telltail.

In the back garden, the potager is being prepared for some more sowing. Potatoes and peas are in, and soon carrots, kale, and beets will take their turn. Tomato seedlings are sitting pretty in their mini-greenhouse. Rhubarb has had its first harvest and the asparagus bed is sprouting about a kilogram of spears weekly.

That's the wild area of mostly brambles in background for hedgehogs, lizards,  birds, and insects

À la prochaine!