Carrying on from last week and the theme of grasses, I had a perfect example this week of how meadow grass can prove to be the perfect addition to a garden.
We have a client who has a lovely garden but who is plagued (and I know I am going to be deeply unpopular here) by badgers. Now, to those who suffer from badger visitations as opposed to watching them on television, and who are up in arms at the idea of proposed culls, the vision of trampled on plants, lawns that looks as if there has been an invasion of miniature alien life-forms crash landing small spaceships is all too familiar. Badgers, like much else are fabulous when they are doing what they do best – fossicking around in native woodland – and when there are not so many of them that they wreak havoc (and they do and can). In short when you are on the receiving end of badger visitations there is not a lot that you can legally do to discourage them – talk to any poor farmer whose fields are pockmarked with badger setts. You can stop up the fence lines (try and stop a fully fledged male badger – they are the countryside equivalent of a tank but that will not last long. They are entrepreneurial and smart. So if your garden has been earmarked as the next best thing to a living online delicatessen, it will not be long before your fence will be trashed and the familiar spaceship invasion takes place. Sooooooooo; having looked at the problem it was decided that the best thing to do was to create a wild grass meadow in the bottom half of the garden. The area nearest the house which was not invaded with badgers (thankfully) retained its beds and the wonderful profligate abundance of alchemilla mollis, sweet rocket, hostas and roses, and the lower area which was damp (soft on snouts and providing a never-ending supply of badger delicacies) and had been an old orchard was left to get on with it. Perennial weeds such as nettles, docks and thistles were removed (there were not many of these) and paths were mown through the meadow grass to give it form and access – for humans. We then let nature take its course. The results after three years, particularly this year are simply stunning. The meadow grass is cut twice a year, and the paths fortnightly so everything is kept very very simple. And it is the paths that give the whole context and link the meadow to the existing garden.. The short green grass is a fabulous contrast to the ever-changing moving, seed heads and heights of the different meadow grasses. And you do not need a large patch of garden to do this too. You can have a small corner of your garden put aside. But it is very very important that the soil is not in good condition – else it will not support meadow grass. It is quite simply too rich. And the huge bonus is the incredible number of butterflies and moths that will add to your continuing delight. And of course, the badgers are still there – as evinced by the narrow trail that makes a beeline straight across the meadow. So a win win situation all round.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Monday, June 8, 2009
The small everyday miracles of growing things
I must be getting old. Or perhaps it is just that I am becoming more aware of what is around me. It is still a miracle that anything grows for me. I find the fact that vegetables are produced from seeds still extraordinary. Never mind that I can eat it. I will never forget my first vegetable garden; carrots, beetroot and peas. So so exciting. And the same excitement grips me when I look at my flower bed. Weeding on my hands and knees brings me up close and personal with what grows there. Grasses in particular stand up well to close examination. Their seed heads can be outrageously beautiful. And there is nothing that is quite so beautiful as the sight of a field of barley being ruffled by the wind. Here Stipa Tenuissima (or as I call it, the ‘fine hair’ grass) looks beautiful either on its own, or with lavender which is planted here in the foreground. The Salvia East Friedland looks wonderful with a white Lychnis, or as it is more commonly and romantically called the White Rose Campion, as a backdrop. I don’t know why this plant is not used more; it is quite beautiful. Perhaps it is just that after such a long and hard winter spring seems even more precious and blowsy than usual.
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