Oh the curse of April! New hours of daylight, soft rays of spring sunshine that float down from the heavens to tease and tempt the gardener. Blue skies, birdsong, emerging bumblebees, and hints of the warm summer season to come.
Followed by a hard frost.
This afternoon I've been busy gathering up all my plants, which have been basking in the good April weather, and turned our dining area into a makeshift greenhouse, in preparation for what the weatherman says will be a cold and frosty night. It's a slightly frustrating reminder that we're not quite there yet, and that a lack of attention in this changeable month could sound the death knell for many of the more tender - or even not-quite-hardened-off - plants. Frankly, I've given too much time, care and money to let that happen to my garden, so the whole lot has either come in for the night, or is tucked up in the pop-up mini greenhouse.
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Frost protection - a full dining table |
Number Three Oak Tree Drive currently resembles one big nursery. Last year, gardening was all about setting the structure, renovating the space, gathering up the previous occupants' masses of rubbish (disgusting,) digging borders, removing concrete, and attempting to revitalise shrubs that had long since been left to ruin. This year, it's all about the plants, and we barely go anywhere on a weekend, without coming back laden with various specimens from the local garden centres. Our windowsills are groaning under the weight of seedlings, the gardening magazines are all well-thumbed, and there's a feverish anticipation with every wander up the garden path. This is what makes April such a frustrating month. I'm ready, the garden is ready, but the climate says wait.
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The April garden |
In my mind, you can divide our garden into three broad areas. The first, nearest the house, is the grass, which we let grow wild and long, forming a fabulous habitat for moths, butterflies and, later in the summer, grasshoppers. There's a few wildflowers that will be left to grow amongst the grasses - oxeye daisies are bound to come up, and I've put in some night-flowering catchfly.
The grass patch is overlooked by our deck, beyond which lies our newly-created borders, formerly a concrete slab and a number of drab, grey, school-playground paving slabs. This will be our central place for flowers and colour, informally designed in the cottage garden style, with an emphasis on pollinator-friendly plants. If everything grows, I'm expecting rudbeckia, echinacea, sedum, cosmos, asters, poppies and scabious to grow happily alongside old-fashioned species such as delphiniums, aquilegia, polemonium, and everybody's favourite, foxgloves. For bees and butterflies, the key is to provide a constant source of nectar and pollen from now until October; right now it's forget-me-nots and primroses, but when the borders really get going, there should be an abundance of flowers - and, hopefully, borders buzzing with life. This part of the garden is also home to our container pond, which last year attracted frogs and dragonflies, and has this spring been frequented by a splash-happy blackbird.
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Forget-me-nots |
As you leave the cottage garden and continue up the path, you enter an altogether different space - a woodland bank. Until 30 years ago, our house was woodland, and the garden has really retained the character of the woodland edge. Here, wild garlic grows in abundance, periwinkle rambles through the undergrowth, and lesser celandine spreads its bright little flowers over any bare patch of earth. Over the early spring, we've added some red campion, dug in several foxgloves, and popped in a couple of beautiful cowslips, which really look at home here, so this bank should retain its natural beauty over the next few months. The woodland end of the garden is also home to our winter border, which has largely gone over now, but will grow anew in October and November, when cyclamen, hellebores, bergenia, and winter aconite will again emerge.
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Lesser celandine |
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Woodland cowslip |
What else has been happening in the garden? Sadly, butterflies have so far been in short supply, limited to a cabbage white and a lovely comma, but I have seen the first bat I've ever seen in the garden, and we are being regularly visited by a lady goldcrest. We're working really hard to attract and keep all manner of wildlife in the garden, and sights like this really make it worth the effort, so hopefully there'll be much more as the season progresses.
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A beautiful goldcrest - a very welcome visitor to our garden |
That's it from the garden for now, apart from giving a quick mention to these beautiful new heucheras I picked up today from Plant World, named Georgia Peach - I think their deep crimson colour will work beautifully at the front of the cottage garden border, contrasting perfectly with the blues and greens and cascading informally over the edges and onto the path.
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Heuchera Georgia Peach |