When winter begins to end with the snowdrops, I start looking forward. And then winter drags on a bit as far as flowers are concerned, so I go on, looking forward. People in the garden world start celebrating a very small group of plants and it all becomes very repetitious, because at that time of year there only IS a small group of plants. So we look forward.
yawn….
To spring. But there’s still quite a small group of plants and the endless pictures of tulips, while glorious, do get a little err, boring. We think of roses and then all that plethora of plants that is so enormous we can never learn all about all of them. But we aim to acquire as many as we possibly can. Garden writing blossoms with those blossoms and we are heading towards Peak Year. June and July – heralded by the Chelsea Flower Show, the time when the British National Gardens Scheme really takes off and, yes, we also open our garden.
Well, recently, Ann-Marie Powell suggested on Substack that the time may have come when we have to change our ideas about this progression:
“So here’s my thinking, and it’s only thinking so far: I want to make spring and autumn my prime gardening seasons, the times I really celebrate the garden and get my joy from it, rather than assuming high summer will always deliver. High summer might become more about a solid green backbone of evergreens, with the early summer flowering plants doing their work underground and us mulching hard to protect the rootstock and keep them going for as long as possible.”
Well, there’s a thought. It’s true that June, July and August were pretty unbearable in Southern Britain this year. Relentlessly hot and dry, so that garden work became unbearable, but endless watering essential. A walk round the garden was a tour of trouble, not joy. Sometimes the evenings were cool enough to eat out in the garden enjoying the sight of the frazzle. And worrying.
Is it still alive!!??
However, just when I thought it was far too hot for anyone to enjoy garden visiting, visitors poured through our gates and appeared to be truly enjoying the garden. And not just for the seats in the shade, though those were appreciated. Was it just great to enjoy a place where you weren’t looking at your own drought? Were they escaping the gardening they couldn’t face doing? For years I have expected our garden visitors to peak in August, after the National Gardens Scheme June/July rush, but this year it never let up.
I have been wondering since I read Ann-Marie’s thought whether we could spare ourselves some of the stress of getting the garden visitor viewable in high summer. Maybe close for a few midsummer weeks? But, thinking about those visitor numbers, that would seem to be a shame. And if we’re open, we need plants doing good, all those months when we have visitors. So maybe that takes us back to the dreadful topic of which plants love to drown in winter and fry in summer? This appears to be the new British climate.
Lovely Japanese visitors at Veddw. And Charles.
I’m not sure. It’s cost us a lot to plant up this garden and now a lot to keep it going. We can’t afford to let summer plants die and replace them if we can prevent it. And even if we did focus on spring and autumn, do spring and autumn plants actually like the drown in winter, fry in summer cycle, even if well mulched? So what would a change of focus offer? Not endless dahlias, please.
But I do think it is inevitably going to be the case that I will look forward to summer with trepidation. It’s always the hardest work time, and now it may become a seasonal ordeal. I need to change my frame of reference and think more positively of the other seasons. Is it possible to change so radically? And will anyone else? Will the RHS at last change their major show times? Chelsea in March or October?
Summer is a practically universal concept, full of meaning and images, habits, myths, songs, celebrations, holidays, parties and picnics. I think it could change its image, but it will take some time and more very nasty summers.
A summer party
Wouldn’t it?
I can’t go along with Anne-Marie. Winter is for evergreens. Summer is for flowers, and lots of them. There are so many plants that tolerate heat, and many that revel in it. I plan to pull everything that looks like Texas toast, and once the temperatures moderate (if that day ever comes), I’ll plant more of whatever still looks chipper. Next summer will be better. The months I dread are January and February. That is the time I’ll wish for Anne-Marie’s evergreens and a stack of good books to read.
I like ‘next summer will be better’.
Charles looks very “angelic” with his halo.
Oh, and he is, of course…..
I have worked hard to extend the season in my Maine garden. For fall, that means asters. Now I have another peak bloom, in October. It isn’t as full as the summer garden but the contrasting colors of aster, peony foliage in senescence, and wild maple (and other) trees in full array make it stunning. Not sure if asters would work with your wet winters (ours are frozen) but it is worth thinking about even if it is a spot of color for you to enjoy and not enough for an open garden. ‘Raydon’s Favorite’ and ‘Bluebird’ are both bluish and have the advantage of looking good top to bottom. The New England asters have a range of colors, pink to purple. Their downside is bad legs but plant them behind other things and they rise and shine when fall comes.
Asters are great, but enough to swing us all into abandoning our focus on summer?
I only have a small hobby garden but I have had the same thoughts in Oregon because it takes so much water to keep the garden nice in the summer. My garden always looks better in the Spring and Fall because of the rain and cooler temperatures.
Those are possibly going to universaly become our best garden times.
I don’t mind watering, since it’s a good reminder to get out there, and I don’t mind serious heat for less than an hour at a time. But mosquitoes are the bane of my existence from May through October, here in North Carolina, US! Asian Tiger mosquitoes have changed the way people experience the outdoors in the eastern US since about 2000.
For that reason alone, I prefer spring gardens. The first thing I did when I moved into my current house was to plant 17 varieties of daffodils, my favorite flower.
As far as summer strategies in my garden, self-seeding biennials that bloom both years like Chinese forget-me-nots effectively have a very long bloom season in total. Last year’s established plants bloom for all of May and June, after which I pull them out; then this year’s seedlings bloom throughout September and October.
Some long-blooming plants like alyssum and roses also take a summer break and then rebloom after the heat lets up.
Some plants also just like it hot. Crape myrtles, Hydrangea paniculata, and Rudbeckia are the showiest mid-summer plants here. Perennial Hibiscus is underutilized in the few hot moist sites that exist.
Salvias will also take the heat and can be showy in the right site, but each Salvia species seems to be picky in its own way about how much water it gets, consequently either drooping (S. guaranitica) or rotting (S. greggii) here. Between that and the frequent deadheading/pruning or legginess, I don’t prefer to use them. If I did, I’d probably go for S. farinacea, leucantha, or x jamensis.