Garden Journal (No.11) – New Gardening Ways

| Gary Webb

With ten garden journal posts now published this year, I hereby give notice, that just for this entry I’m having a little shake up – think of it as a snow globe edition if you will. In here my usual journal sections have temporarily disappeared in a miniature blizzard and are lost amidst swirling bright white flakes.

Instead, what comes into focus as the fake snow slows is an update on my gardening reality; a wintry tale of working that is not weathering well just now. For this post only, I’m aiming to summarise this year’s lengthy journey, one I can no longer process properly with pursed lips. These words are not angry words however, they’re therapeutic ones, chosen to help me both process what is done, and move forward with calmness and clarity.

Note: The text below radiates from my present core role in the charity sector as a gardens and parks consultant, which follows decades working in landscape and garden management. I also wish to confirm that I write here in a personal capacity: these words do not represent the views of any other individual or organisation.

On the work front…

I’ve previously alluded to a work issue that’s been ongoing since early July. The situation has been frustrating and trying to say the least and believe me those are two of the kindest words I could use. Essentially, as for many organisations and businesses just now, the cloud of redundancy came over, putting many hard-working folks under a great deal of stress.

Now that winter’s under way, I’m in a position to look back and process the journey so far, and it helps me to think of it as thus: for a while there, we were effectively walking the narrowest of cliffside walks. For sure, appeals could be submitted to the powers that be, which at least gave hope that valuable people might somehow be saved from slipping into the foggy void below, but the way ahead for all was not clear cut.

For a lucky few of us, an added hint of optimism occurred when brand-new roles came into sight. Yes, new spaces were actually made on a sustainably sourced bench up on a higher ledge. That path to the plateau though was steep and twisted, and the risk of falling ever present, but once up there, if the weather cleared, that view would surely be magnificent.

Individually we dared to climb, and a couple of worthy adventurers even made it up onto that grassy ledge, and internally I rejoiced that two of my kind, at least, had reached safety. For the rest of us though, ill equipped it seemed for the challenge, one by one we were forced to turn about and shuffle back down the path; whilst contemplating still empty spaces up there on the bench. Some things are just not meant to be.

After our trial, that narrow path crumbled and fell away behind us, almost as if it was never there at all. With wide open eyes though, I could at least take solace in finally having received a date for the whole sorry affair to conclude – February 2026. Mind you, whilst a few of us had given it a shot, there were a few others who, ahead of time, had chosen to float into the voluntary redundancy mist. After so many previous meetings and garden tours, not to hug being able to properly wish them farewell was a wrench indeed.

A black and white image of a Webb mower in a garden setting
Fossil fuel free mowers with no charging or battery concerns…

Thankfully, I’m now back on firmer ground and a normal (ish) service has resumed, albeit with one eye on a distant horizon. Without digging into the whys and wherefores a moment longer however, and a few sleepless nights aside, I can say that I am genuinely at peace with it all. For sure, having one’s career train suddenly derailed at my time of life does leave one in quite a hole, but I’m adept with a sharp-edged spade and a PC, so I think I’ll be okay.

If there’s one thing that puzzles me, it is how I’ve managed to remain so composed throughout it all, but then, with a family to support, maybe the brave face I’m sporting for my kids has somehow stuck. Whatever it is, now is the time to draw a line in the sand, and this journal entry most definitely marks that line. I now need to be looking ahead, exploring new paths and stepping through new doorways. Your destiny awaits; is a line that keeps running through my mind.

Being practical, for the next couple of months I am very much committed to my present role, but beyond that, well, I shall be up for grabs. In this moment therefore, I guess I need to advertise my wares, to put myself out there as it were.

I’m quite a versatile and practical person, but as you’ll by now realise, I’m also something of a reflector, a character trait not given the time of day in most meetings, discussions, or even interviews come to that. Nevertheless, whilst I can tend to dwell sometimes, it does lead to considered decisions with positive outcomes.

It’s taken me far too many years to work it out, but I’m very much a creative, one that dares to dream. My qualities may not be unique and as an individual I might be hard to figure out, but my ability to dream and aspirational approach to life has served me well in horticulture across the years. After all, no one can manifest a finely considered paradise garden if they can’t dream it from within, surely?

The bottom line though, is that whilst it’s fine to be something of a niche horticulturalist with a book dream, I do have bills to pay. In my mind’s eye, an opportunity like redundancy is a chance to step back, to reconsider and possibly to retrain. On the shelf, however, is a little Christmas elf who annoyingly prods and pokes at me daily, his speech bubbles saying, “just get another job, and quickly!”

To these ends, I’m a creative horticulturalist, or gardener if that’s easier to grasp; a hardworking, loyal, nature focussed family guy, deeply rooted in south Warwickshire. I have all the usual tickets, sharp pruners, and have improved and made more than a few gardens over the years. Oh, and whilst I’m particularly fond of heritage gardens, I do have a very broad field of vision.

At this point I’m at risk of falling into C.V. territory, so I shall check myself and call time on this somewhat unconventional garden journal entry now. I gave this post much thought I can tell you, and apologies if it’s a shock to the system, but the best way for me to navigate this process is by writing my way through it.

There are many more challenging things in life to deal with, I realise, and my intention was never to harp on, or cause upset. My horticultural journey has been forty years in the growing though, so you’ll have to excuse me if this comes across a little snappy; this is challenging stuff, whether people depend on you or you depend on yourself.

To conclude therefore, whilst my diary is full for the foreseeable, in the near future I shall myself be released into that foggy void, and I’m very much open to all avenues. My pruners, as ever, are as sharp as my pencils, and my topiary trimming is just as tuneful as my keyboard tapping. I’ve managed teams here and there, for sure, but I’m also completely at peace in splendid isolation; and many would be surprised by my garden design skills – old school but effective!

Thanks for reading to the end, should you hear of anything within range of south Warks, I’d be very much obliged if you would tip me the wink.

Until next time then, when my garden journal will return to its usual format, I bid you good day.

Kind regards, Gary Webb, Gardening Ways.

Old Spades, New Gardening Ways

| Gary Webb

This article is a reflection on the shifting nature of gardening and considers how old methods like double digging fit into modern, sustainable practice.

I’m sure this could be applied to many activities, but if there’s one thing I’ve come to understand about gardening, it is that nothing stays the same for long: places, processes, people and of course plants themselves continue to change. There are many examples of how change plays out in life of course, but the one I pull from my gardening hat today concerns an old gardening task known as double digging.

Whilst in practice double digging wasn’t expected or carried out nearly as often as one might think, by the time I encountered the technique it was long established; a trusted method for preparing compacted or depleted ground. Whether working an allotment or old kitchen garden therefore, digging down two spits deep, incorporating organic matter and inverting the soil was considered a route to success.

Possibly due to my working situations, I didn’t often get to put my double digging skills to use, but I certainly held faith in the procedure. After all, like it or loathe it, the DD process adds nutrients and humus, opens and aerates compacted soil, and helps towards that happy place somewhere between not too wet or dry – what more could anyone possibly do to help plants grow?

A black and white image of Gary Webb weeding a patch of soil beside a compost bin.
My good self, not in the act of double digging! (Not there anyway 😉)

The idea behind this text however, is not to deliberate on whether double digging or no dig is best, or if any gardening method is superior to another. My reflections here are wholly centred around the evolution of horticultural practice, of collective and individual learning, and of thoughtfully managing change.

Continue reading →

Garden Journal (No.10) – In the Midst of Autumn

| Gary Webb

Hello and welcome to the tenth edition of my new garden journal, a place where I pause time and take note of where my gardening world sits right now.

Firstly

Looking out from where I’m writing just now, except for a Dahlia burst of white and Japanese anemone flowers, my garden is full and alive with vibrant foliage. Despite cloudy skies this morning, light is captured by thousands of leaves all around, each colour intensified instantly by the merest hint of additional sun. Autumn is such a special time of year, and I’m repeatedly struck by its beauty.

Zooming-in to my home plot, I can usually take the yellow leaves of dogwood either way, but right now they do contrast pleasantly with the rich green lawn; and I’m beginning to see the fiery stems revealed once again too. Whilst I grin knowingly at the birch whose leaves are again late to turn, nearby a hornbeam Niwaki is busy transforming itself into a striking gold and copper sculpture. If it were a competition though, the blonde Calamagrostis seed heads would certainly take first prize, being the showiest of all, bursting brightly upwards before the blackened fence; it’s all keeping me in absolute captivation.

Bright blonde seed heads of Calamagrostis x acutiflora ‘Karl Foerster’ backlit by sunshine
Calamagrostis x acutiflora ‘Karl Foerster’

Despite the grand display though, I know that all the plants are doing is preparing for winter, their last throws of visible life colouring my days ahead of hibernation. It’s a little way off as yet, but tough winter days are ahead, maybe even frosts by the end of the month, so like us, these plants are simply pulling back their reserves; surely, we should be taking a leaf out of their book and applying it to ours?!

Continue reading →

Garden Journal (No.9) – Heritage and Horticultural Matters

| Gary Webb

Hello and welcome to my garden journal, a pausing point and record of my garden focussed world right now.

Autumn begins… I began writing this journal on Friday last, holed up in the garden hut due to persistent rain which had teemed down for hours. Being on the coat tails of storm Amy and forecast for the weekend, I was thankful that all I had to endure was the regular tapping of rain on the roof.

Now though a full week has flown by, calmer weather has returned and another Harvest Moon wanes. Thankfully I can report that storm Amy treated us kindly, all told, and certainly better than up north where much damage was reported. Locally, paths and roadsides were peppered with twigs and fallen leaves, many still in the green, whilst acorns layered the ground beneath most every oak. Autumn, it appears, has introduced its turbulent self…

Pink Nerine flowers outside an orangery building at Calke Abbey
Perfect Partners: Nerines and Erigeron at Calke Abbey

Despite the hint of destruction mentioned above, it is important to remember that autumn brings positive vibes too. For many, autumn is a time where getting out and about takes precedence, even just to kick through some leaves, or warm souls with a hot chocolate or two. Others embrace the shoulder season by slinking into some kind of pre-hibernation state, where focus shifts towards hunkering down for winter, which surely means stacking up on books and sweet treats for those long dark nights, right?

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Walks and Wild Words

| Gary Webb

Won’t you come and crunch some acorns with me? Fact, fiction and times past, all woven crudely together and unravelled here, in this short story search for purpose.

Early one autumn morn during a country walk, I happened across an impressive holly oak tree, where I chose to sit for a while. There, I was to discover not just a handsome tree but a potent place, one that offered a lens through which landscape and life could be viewed.

Prior to that deep-seated moment, I’d been drifting in and out of thought whilst stomping up a hill, upon which oaks and yews had lived for a century or more. Boughs from path side trees formed an impressive tunnel overhead, but my eyes were mostly flitting from fronds beside the path one moment, to fungi living on fallen wood the next: all the while crunching over acorns strewn all about, it being a mast year.

After a few minutes of continual climb, I was drawn by some light glowing from the side of the track, although given the seemingly never-ending weather pattern, it wasn’t so much a burst of sun, but a brief patch of brightness. Nevertheless, whilst standing there appreciating that burly oak’s silhouette, a narrow track appeared before me, so through the ferny foliage I duly stepped, unsure if I was simply exploring the place, or had been summoned to it.

Continue reading →

Garden Journal (No.8) – In Search of Stars

| Gary Webb

My record of autumn arriving as summer fades, of scarred soil, of garden friends and foes, plus tasks planned for the home garden and family allotment, it’s all in here and more besides. 🌿

Hello and welcome to my garden journal.

Generally Speaking

Autumn… for me is an important time of year, where I try to immerse myself and take notice of every garden moment. There always seems to be an urgency to these actions, as if the garden at any moment could up sticks and leave. I don’t know why but I’m drawn to write now more than at any other time of year, endeavouring each time to capture and hold each experience in words, like cupped hands carrying water from a fresh flowing stream.

A sunrise sky and silhouette picture, where buildings and young trees are highlighted by the glow of a rising sun.
One of the golden sun rises this week, when all is calm in the garden.

Normally around now I’m drawn to comment on how the summer’s flown by, and in some ways this is still the case – especially the holiday part which disappeared in a flash! Right now though, what I mostly recall are slow moving steady days, where the door to the garden was, for the most part, left wide open. As the seasonal cycle dictates though, that wonderful open-door policy was always going to change, and that soft changeover period is upon us now, as we inch ever closer to autumn proper.

Thanks to plenty of rain in recent weeks which ended the longest and driest of periods, my early autumn garden is once again lush and vibrant, if a little weary around the margins. Days have mellowed, nights are noticeably longer, and most mornings are decidedly damp and cool.

A little white pine growing on its merry way in my garden.

Not wanting to wistfully wave summer away just yet though, I feel it’s important each day to head outside and connect with nature and the season in some way. It’s all too easy to plough on through and chip away at the tasks in hand, but a few moments of fresh air with some sun on my face, or standing bare foot to connect with the ground really does reinvigorate my soul.

⚠️ Trigger Warning for molluscophobes and arachnophobes…!

The other day though, whilst out on one such garden visit, I found myself sharing the space with a large red slug who was making their way steadily across the patio. Unlike days of old, this time I simply thought – wow, that’s a big un! I took its photo and let it go on its way, realising this too signified change, bringing an end to late night bare foot strolls around the garden in search of stars. How times change eh…

A large red slug moving across paving in a garden
They do divide opinion, but they’re pretty formidable creatures IMHO…

In the Garden

The Ground Swells – and it’s been an absolute joy to have welcomed some much-needed rain over the last couple of weeks or so; it was certainly needed. Near me water has fallen from the sky frequently and in quantity, and in no time at all what might have passed for an old rush mat out front (but was actually a lawn,) is now transformed into a lush green carpet.

I do have concerns over the border soil though, as cracks from months of desiccation are still visible – as if the ground is scarred. Recent rainfall has helped but marks remain, and whilst it’s easy to move forward without concern, in the coming season I’ll have to consider how to better support and protect the soil from which my garden grows. I feel even more mulching may be in order…

Wildlife – I think it’s fair to say that conditions for many wildlife species have been less than ideal this summer, but at least conditions are settling now to something near normal – whatever normal is, that is!

The first of two species I’ve encountered of late is our beloved Ladybird which has returned to my garden in good numbers again. It may be a small thing, but I took delight this year in carrying two of these bright red soldiers across the garden and depositing them on a black aphid infested Dahlia stem. Thankfully, just two days later one of the lady birds was still there chomping away on the aphids, and today there are no aphids at all – happy days.

The final species I’ll mention just now is a garden spider, one of the orb weavers if my I.D. app has done its job correctly. As architects and builders of some exquisite structures, their webs seem to be placed everywhere in my garden just now, spanning most gaps between sheds and garden stems. Maybe a little over a centimetre wide, they’re creamy beige in colour with dark markings. Interestingly, like a few folks I’ve worked with way back in time, sometimes they seem to hang around motionless for ages, and sometimes there’s no trace of them at all – I’ll mention no names but I always know who will have been most productive. 😉 If you can tolerate it, do study that web – it’s fascinating and holds some incredible cross bracing!

European Garden/Orb Weaver Spider

Like many, though a spidey-fan when growing up I must admit to not being drawn to actual spiders. Having gotten used to them over the years though I now just see them as garden friends, as long as I’m not getting caught up in a web that is! Mind you, as spiders are particularly active just now, my key tip would be to wave a short stick around the area in the border where you wish to work, as if you’re casting a magic spells over your plants… Option: Shout #Riddikulus to give your neighbours something to think about!

@AllotofPotential allotment – Allotmenteering has been a little hit and miss of late, although the summer holiday period always disrupts the usual flow of visits. In all fairness, the allotment is somewhat tatty around the edges, but all considered it is in fairly good order.

Stopping way short of a harvest festival write up, I can at least start by saying we’ve a small sack of good-sized onions hanging in the shed. I’m patting myself on the back for this growing achievement of course, as under-sized onions have been the norm in previous seasons. The focus on bulking-up organic matter in the soil is finally starting to pay off I believe.

A gardener crouched down, searching through soil for small potatoes
It’s not about the tan, but the tatties! Myself in action at the allotment…

Whilst the glasshouse courgette plants eventually succumbed to powdery mildew, it wasn’t until they had delivered a steady supply of fruits all summer. Pulling them out created space for drying and storing the pumpkins, which have grown and coloured up nicely. The glasshouse shade netting has also now been removed now, to increase light and heat for the remaining tomatoes.

Speaking of toms, they are finally on song now after a sluggish start, and although it’s fair to say the plants are a little unsightly (due to a lack of attention), we should be good for pasta sauce for the foreseeable. It didn’t help that one plant is seriously deformed with fasciation, but I have made a mental note to be more attentive to their needs next year in an effort to keep them on the straight and narrow.

Looking Ahead

Whilst it’s all too easy not to make the time and to save some pennies, I’m tempted again this year to plant at least a couple containers for some extra spring colour in the garden. Once they’re planted, it’s not only the anticipation they bring, but the little teasers they offer in winter as their new shoots break through, promising good things to come. Yes, they’re worth the effort, so I shall plan for those, maybe some tulips or miniature Iris, or some hyacinths for a change.

There will be some continued feeding of longer-term containers here and there with seaweed feed, and I’ll be looking to keep on dead heading, although things are slowing now. I need to lift some Stachys that is getting beyond its limits, and I’ll be raising some pots off the ground to ease their drainage – popping little clay feet beneath as many pots as I can.

More weeding of the allotment must not escape me, to check the advancement of couch grass roots into the borders. Also, as any rows become are clear of crops and weeds, and if I’m not planting with onions or garlic, I shall be looking to mulch with manure and cover them over for winter.

Outside there’s a season of compost to turn and re-cover, and a rather full bin at home, and hopefully there will be some good enough material amongst that to spread about and around. Inside the glasshouse in the coming weeks tomato plants will need to come out and the soil refreshed, so there’s plenty to keep me engaged and engrossed as always.

Rest assured that I won’t be far from my garden in the coming weeks, and I hope you’ll be in yours or visiting one or another, to experience this very special time of year. The Autumn Equinox approaches and some of the best days are ahead, so let’s get out there and embrace it!

That’s my gardening lot just now, and I’ve taken enough of your time, so I’ll sign off and wish you all the very best for the days ahead. Until next time, Gary, Gardening ways.

Garden Journal (No.7) – Cobwebs and Gardens…

| Gary Webb

An escape to the coast that sort of worked; an update on working life right now; looking beyond the drought; bee holes galore; allotment toms and more – it’s all in here and more besides.

Hi and welcome to my garden journal, a personal record of my place right now where gardens, gardening and nature are concerned. [ Note: Due to a malfunction this is a delayed posting of this journal entry from August – edition No.8 to follow tomorrow! Bonus back to back editions! ]

Generally Speaking

Escape to the coast… In my last garden journal I looked forward to a summer break ‘swooshing around delightful gardens, gallivanting around the countryside and lying back on a sunny beach’. Well, that plan mostly worked, although not before a bout of illness swept me off my feet, followed swiftly by Storm Floris which delivered a less-than-ideal start to the holidays.

It wasn’t all bad however, although during the break I did chose not to visit any gardens, which ordinarily should give cause for concern; especially considering some quality heritage gardens were in the area visited, including Bodnant no less. (Maybe next time eh…) It was a family holiday though, and whilst the lure was undoubtedly there, this time I felt a need for a complete break, sweeping both cobwebs and gardens away. An explanation for this might be gleaned as I write on, but if not do not concern yourself, you’ll never keep me away from gardens for too long!

Sea holly flowers, or Eryngium maritimum.
Can’t resist a little sea holly, to look at though, certainly not to touch! 

I must say that the much-anticipated week away in north Wales did settle down swiftly after the storm, and all turned out well in the end. Okay, so some of the days may not have gone entirely to plan, but the weather turned out well, and we were blessed to have some much-needed time away from the treadmill. Crisp sea air filled my lungs, the eyes bathed in some incredibly beautiful landscape, and my spirit was indeed refreshed.

On the work front… I can’t be drawn on the details, but I have some quite involved stuff to deal with in the coming weeks, a process that’s already forced a good deal of reflection on my career journey thus far. Suffice to say that like many others, my career’s had its twists and turns, and whilst at times I’ve taken an unusual route, each turn has brought valuable experience. Needless to say, my horticultural journey is far from done yet.

Taking the helicopter view of where I’m currently positioned, I can see that it’s good sometimes when change comes unexpectedly, otherwise there can be a tendency to plod along and accept the hand we’re dealt. Right now, though, with my cards scattered across the floor, I realise that I might have been guilty of accepting my path in recent years, feeling somewhat powerless to challenge a system I knew to be flawed.

Time waits for no one of course, and whilst I’m a little at sea with it all right now, those recent years have certainly not been for nothing, I know that for sure. Looking ahead, change is unavoidable, and however things work out, I shall continue to adapt and grow just like I always have. To mention this at all is partly to capture where I’m placed right now, but also as affirmation of how I wish to move forward. More on this anon.

In the Garden

A touch on the dry side – Don’t worry, I’m not going to harp-on again about how dry the garden still is, as I sufficiently covered this last month. I was of course hoping back then to tempt fate, and whilst some liquid refreshment came during the stormy period, this is now a fortnight gone, and the ground again is fissured.

I’m resigned to the fact that as tough as gardening is just now, that’s just the way it is, and whilst extreme weather does cause significant issues in some locations, adapt to the circumstance we must. (Adapt seems to be my word of the moment!) The conditions I describe aren’t just local to me here in Warwickshire but are widespread, so we’re all facing the same challenges to one extent or another, and as gardeners we must learn from it and rise to the challenge.

So here’s my simple strategy: Firstly, a key focus for the cooler months ahead is to boost my water harvesting capacity, both in my home garden and for the allotment. Then secondly, I shall ramp-up again my autumn and winter soil care by introducing organic mulch that will feed the soil whilst helping both with moisture retention and drainage. There’s a lot of science to it but trust me, the soil and I will figure it out for ourselves.

Both tasks aren’t going to fix things in one season alone, but incrementally, I’m looking to make a difference.

Wildlife – On the face of it, wildlife must be having a tough time of things just now, and some species couldn’t be blamed for keeping a low profile. In my own garden, aside from the odd peacock butterfly or pigeons who regularly arrive to quench their thirst, there’s little to shout about. Even my beloved swifts have upped and left.

If I zoom in a little closer though the garden is still full of activity, and to the fore jumps the flying specialists such as hoverflies, wasps and bees. The wasps I have noticed have developed a particular interest in my box shrubs, visiting throughout the day now for the last three weeks or more. I can only assume they’re either searching for food, such as aphids, or they’re hooked on the liquid feed I’ve been using on the foliage – if you have the definitive answer I’d love to find out for sure.

As for the bees, we fixed a second bee hotel to the fence back at the beginning of summer, one of those little boxes filled with hollow bamboo canes that some solitary bees are drawn to. Due to its newness, I didn’t expect to see any guests this year at all but have been surprised to see rooms in the hotel already pressed into use.

A twin image, to the left bamboo tubes with some cavities plugged by solitary bees, and to the right leaves that exhibit where the 'plugs' have come from - nearby leaves.
The bee hotel taking its first guests, and beautifully nibbled plugs to seal each section. The wonder of nature… 

The hollow tubes attract female bees who construct a series of little chambers to deposit eggs and food, before neatly capping the end of each pipe with a moulded leafy plug. It really is a work of art, and if that wasn’t incredible enough, the leaf sections used to plug the tubes in the hotel have been nibbled from nearby Wisteria and rose leaves, which now resemble pieces of Swiss Cheese!

If it’s not too cheesy to say, it’s worth adding that we’re considering listing the accommodation next year on Air Bee-n-Bee… (Sorry not sorry!)

@AllotofPotential allotment – Aside from watering, the last input the allotment received was a flying visit just before we headed for the holiday hills, and that occasion was mostly restricted to giving key areas a thorough soaking – notably the glasshouse.

I’m glad to say that whilst it’s a pain to program, the solar powered watering system has again worked like a trooper this year, sucking up water from a tank inside the glasshouse and delivering it to the base of each tomato or courgette plant. I’ve dealt with feeding separately, and water the beds more thoroughly once a week if I can, but otherwise they’re left to themselves (I do use a shade net on the glasshouse).

The first of the tomatoes cropped this season, plus some French beans and courgettes – to balance the chocolate consumption…

Around three weeks ago the first tomatoes ripened for picking, albeit not from a purposely grown plant, but a self-seeded one. It popped up in a convenient place, so I went with it, and it’s now delivering some incredibly tasty cherry-sized fruits. Plants are good at figuring things out for themselves I find…

Elsewhere on the plot I just about managed to drop in some leeks before leaving the plot to its own devices, but having visited since, I’m happy to report they’ve settled in okay. Recent re-sowings of carrots and beetroot are up and away, as too are radishes that are always quick off the mark. The less said about parsnip seed the better, but if it’s not showing itself by my next visit, it may well have missed its chance this year!

Looking Ahead

Right now, I’m enjoying a sweet scented second flush of roses and the brightest red honeysuckle berries in my home garden. Out and about though, you can rest assured I’ll be looking to enjoy every drop of juice the summer season has left in its tank; I do hope you’re able to do the same.

I’m not wishing the summer away of course, but as the season cycles, I always anticipate the delights the ever-shortening days will bring. Whether it is golden seed heads catching an afternoon breeze, leaf silhouettes dancing across the fence or the last of the fiery red pelargoniums cascading from pots at the allotment.

Rosa ‘Gertrude Jekyll’ giving a second flush – it’s been a good year for the…

Now the home lavender trimming is safely in the rear-view mirror, I’m also looking ahead to tasks that’ll need doing across both home the garden and allotment. I’ve still to plant some brassicas for winter/spring harvest, compost desperately needs turning, and onions, potatoes, tomatoes, courgettes and cornichons need regular harvesting.

As if all that isn’t enough, whilst the no-dig approach appears to be working well, couch grass is quietly creeping in from the side paths, so that will need rooting out soon too. It may not be the most productive plot at the allotments, yet, but its care does demand focus and energy, which is what makes allotmenteering so appealing!

~

I shall sign off for now, by wishing you all the very best.

Until next time, Gary, Gardening ways.

Garden Journal (no.6) – Be like a tree…

| Gary Webb

Hello again and welcome back to my garden journal, a place to record my gardening world right now, look at where I’ve been and peer into the future.

Generally Speaking

Right now…I’m a tree… A few weeks have passed by since I last updated my garden journal, and despite the pause in posting I can confirm that I have been as busy as ever. Gardening aside, time has taught me that my personal motivation for writing does naturally dip during summer, so rather than squeeze out posts or journal entries I simply pause for a while. It’s not like I stop writing, I’ve just learned not to force it, to park the F.O.M.O., care less about social stats, and get on with other things.

All that said, whilst there might have been some beautifully long, slow and sultry days since the summer solstice, mine do seem to have been filled with a lot of stuff. Suffice to say that between roving around gardens for work, burying my head in books for research, private garden visits, (see image below!) a garden show and activity in my own garden and allotment, there genuinely hasn’t been much time to think – let alone write!

Still, in just a few weeks’ time I’ll be taking a little break so I must be patient. Yes, that dream of swooshing around delightful gardens, gallivanting around the countryside and lying back on a sunny beach each day will hopefully be realised. Naturally, I intend each night to kick back and watch the sunset with a long drink, a head full of inspiration, an open book and fully loaded pen – well that’s the plan. Until then I have some serious stuff to deal with on the work front, so I’ll keep searching for that balance between all that needs doing to keep the pennies rolling in (and the kids fed), and I’ll daily remind myself that I’m not weary, I’m adaptable and resilient, just like a tree. (Let’s hope nothing falls off in the meantime!)

A Japanese Tea House set in a wooded garden at Morton Hall
A favourite image from a recent visit to Morton Hall Gardens with the Japanese Garden Society – a lovingly crafted Japanese Tea House.

In the Garden

Bring on the Flowers – Although we’ve enjoyed some rain these last few days, since last writing we have had to endure some warm and windy weeks – flaming June having broken records yet again. It has been weather to kick back on a beach with an iced coffee or float around in a cool pool, but as for the gardening community, it’s been a challenging time for sure – beautiful sunny skies that have brought on the flowers, but tough under foot in more ways than one.

In my home garden, even though the ornamental borders were heavily mulched earlier in the year when the soil was moist, the ground has still dried, and cracks have appeared large enough to swallow a mouse whole – even after the weekend rain. At this point though and with such shrinkage, there’s little point in watering copiously as we might have done in days gone by, but instead zooming-in just on those plants that need it most and watering thoroughly.

Cracks in my garden foundations, but little to be done – they will come and go…

Yes, if you’re willing to take the hit on your water bill the hose is there and waiting, and nobody would probably notice. But really, in a private garden setting, and unless the plants are rare, I’d let them fend for themselves, urging all to conserve our water resource where we can. I’ll store my soapbox away now…

Wildlife – Even having a soft spot for wildlife, I was still a little miffed to be woken by some strange snorting noises coming from the garden one evening last week, a little after midnight. The snorts were regular, somewhat dry, and coming from somewhere underneath the plants in the front garden – but hanging out of my window with a torch couldn’t reveal exactly what it was.

Out I went then, clad in PJs with torch in hand, (ready to run if the need arose), only to discover not one but two hedgehogs, who suddenly went very quiet. The hogs were large and healthy it seemed and were clearly enjoying a night on the town.

Nevertheless, with it being a rather warm night I backed away, only to return with a dish of water to quench their thirst – the neighbours must have thought I’d lost the plot! Anyway, when next viewing from up above I could see they’d moved on, but as my head once again hit the pillow, I couldn’t help but feel guilty for interrupting a night of passion!

Niwaki – With work on my home garden presently reduced to plant feeding, deadheading, occasionally ‘topping’ the lawn and watering, progress, for want of a steady word has been slow. Where I’ve channelled my gardening ambitions therefore in a calming, meditative kind of way, is through some topiary work, trimming cloud pruned box shrubs and formative pruning a young hornbeam tree.

My ‘Niwaki’ tree, if I dare be so bold was planted maybe three years back and has been left alone to settle in whilst I plucked up courage to get busy with some pruners. Earlier this year though the time came to get involved and trim out the leading stem, as I don’t really have room for a forest-sized tree in my back garden!

A Gardener busy pruning and training a garden tree, against a garden fence with blue skies behind
I know, it doesn’t look much yet but give it time… 

In early summer I selected the side branches I wished to keep, most evenly spaced and with a good spread around the tree. Then came ‘special branch’ training, where I tied canes onto each branch to straighten them over time. Stone weights then followed, tied to each branch to lower them down a little below horizontal until the whole tree, all eight or nine feet of it began to look quite arty – trussed up, but artfully so.

All that worked for a while, but after some weeks observing and studying, I have now moved in for a second piece of work, upgrading my training system to canes and black string instead of stone weights. Whilst still in full leaf, the training system is now relatively well hidden, although close up I might easily be seen as a control freak! In my defence, I’d just say that I do like to experiment and stretch myself horticulturally, and after all – I’m only here once!

I shall keep you posted as to whether the tree thrives or turns it’s toes up!

@AllotofPotential allotment – Although it’s been steady-ahead in the home garden, the allotment has called for a little more input. Being free draining, holding on to moisture in the ground can be something of a challenge, although somewhat unsurprisingly, the wildflowers (weeds) do tend to cope admirably. Irrigation has therefore been increased to keep things green and growing in the heat.

The delicious broad beans have done well so far but have run out of steam now, and the strawberries have come and gone – mostly before I could get my hands on them. (I do need to up my strawberry game for next year). Tomatoes are racing up the canes in the glasshouse and the first fruits have been harvested from the courgettes, whilst pumpkins in their patch are sending stems here and everywhere, showing off their bright yellow flowers and immature fruits to an excited world. Seed-wise, whilst later than hoped, the first rows of carrots, parsnips, beetroot and radish have been sown, so fingers crossed there for some good growth beyond the full moon.

These pumpkins have @allotofpotential…(have a look on Insta!)

Overall, after a sluggish start, things are moving along nicely on the allotment growing front. On the allotment wildlife front though, I was ecstatic last week to see a ‘charm’ or group of goldfinches descend on the plot, focussing wholly on some self-seeded cornflowers that were left to grow in a floral border. The goldfinches, which never appear in my garden just a mile or so away, were a real treat, as were the skylarks who serenaded a delightful allotment gardening session.

Looking Ahead

Needless to say, that with record temperatures forecast in the days ahead, a heavy workload and the holiday season fast approaching, I’m not setting my gardening bar very high for a while. I shall just aim to keep things alive and well fed, with a little clipping here, a little tying in there, and a wish that all will be well.

Maybe I’ll be taking a leaf out of Mother Nature’s book and accept that with shortening days, there is a need to slow down, calm the pace and pause. Think of those cool early mornings when nothing stirs but the birds, or long summer evenings when plants cease moving and fresh air is nowhere to be found. Vibrant flourishing growth witnessed during spring and early summer is maturing, the frenetic activity we experienced has slowed, so things must give as we crest summer’s brow.

There’s much yet to come but remember the value of sitting back and taking time to appreciate our midsummer gardens, taking stock of the highs and lows of the year so far. With that frame of mind, I shall be looking myself for gentle contemplation and will make time in the days ahead to study plants more closely, observing how they’re responding to this highpoint of the year. I’ll be sitting down to watch bees extract goodness from the flowers, I will meditate on sunlit grass heads waving gently back and forth, and if I’m lucky, I will harvest some home-grown food here and there – that will be me for the foreseeable.

~

Wishing you all the very best, until next time, Gary, Gardening ways.

A Gardening Connection, at BBC Gardeners’ World Live.

| Gary Webb

You presently find me fully inspired after a visit to BBC Gardeners’ World Live at the N.E.C. in Birmingham. If you know me personally, the mention of attending a garden show might take you aback, as my preferred place of comfort would by choice be somewhere much calmer: a quiet corner of a wildflower filled garden, maybe a woodland trail, the allotment or seated on a bench in my garden. After a successful show visit therefore, to now sitting back reflecting with wholly positive thoughts, feels pretty good indeed.

Generally speaking, thinking of how we’ve moved from the local village garden show to the likes of BBC GW Live is hard to fathom. Dozens of trade stands, bottle-necked thoroughfares and variegated willows whipping you in the face when least expected. Weary stall holders wilting under the heat of a marquee alongside their perfectly grown plants, and bite-your-lip moments due to those infuriating push-me pull-me show trollies; possibly the very best and worst garden show product that ever there was!

The Plant Based Garden, by Nick Bailey

It might all sound a bit much, and in some ways it is, but there is a reverse side to the coin: a glorious and gigantic garden show in the blazing June sunshine that features the very best early summer flowers. Garden shows of this size, therefore, are meant to be exciting and busy places, and can assault your senses; but there is balance and payback if you seek it. I like to think of large garden shows as magnets, working as super central places where all and sundry converge on one location which is, let’s face it, as convenient as it gets.

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