Pictures from a French Paradise - Part 3

I've just returned from 2 weeks in Paradise. My paradise was a villa in Montcabirol in the Midi in France and I fell even more in love with the area than last time.
There's no part 3 - I had my eyes on some more photo opportunities but I was chased by a wasp.

Pictures from a French Paradise - Part 2

Pictures from a French Paradise - Part 1

Hot pink in the front garden

 So the great news is that the Azalea has come back to life and is looking splendid as the moment as you can see. I cut back all the pustular looking branches which has left it an odd shape but healthy and vibrant.

Here we also have Cirsium Something which is also flowering a belter and adding a great upward dimension to the flower bed - this will be echoed later in the year by the foxgloves which have all now been planted out and I'm waiting to see how they go. In the lower right hand corner you can see the furry heads of an Oriental poppy which I hope is Patty's plum and seems to be on the way too.

Icelandic, Welsh? Rather spiffy either way.

Depending on who you speak to, these are either Icelandic or Welsh poppies. I originally thought the Icelandic were yellow and the Welsh orange, however I'm no longer sure and they seem to be pretty much the same plant.

Either way, they are jaunty and cheerful.

A haze of blue begins

One of my favourite combos in summer is the Centauri Montana growing out of the English Lavender - the foliage match perfectly and as the Centauri wanes the lavender takes over.

Happy Birthday to Me

I received a plethora of gardening gifts last week: Dobbies vouchers, a flowery trowel, a grow your own diary and a cool book. But the most 'gardeny' of the lot is above - a raspberry bush, a butternut squash plant and a chard plant. Thanks to the Bishops for this one!

Who doesn't love an Allium?

Well, if there is anyone like that, I don't want to know them!

And just in case Alliums don't float your boat, here's some skulking behind some Aquilegia.

But why pretend - absolutely stunning!

 

The John Madejski Garden at the V&A

Since 2005 there has been a beautiful garden at the centre of the Victoria and Albert Museum, designed by Kim Wilkie and created with the bequest of John Madejski.

I've always thought Irises are pretty anarchic - their upright spiky habit give a punky bearing and attitude. I also love the way their colours and markings are less pretty-pretty and more wild thing. With such beautiful architecture in the Italianate courtyard, their structure echoes the vertical planes of the building.

The planting is in effortless good taste and entirely appropriate for the surroundings - repetitive planting patterns keep the effect harmonious and formal.

The aim of the garden is to provide a calm space in the middle of the museum and the understated but structural planting certainly does that. The reality is that with such strong architecture, you need your planting to complement rather than compete and I believe that's been achieved here.

The elliptical pond adds a sense of serenity in a space and building that is congested with history and visitors and would look amazing in the rain.

The trees also help give a sense of the lofty scale of the building and pull your eyes to the sky, as with gothic architecture.

London Walks - my favourite starts with a garden

My favourite walk in London starts at St Paul's and takes you over the Millennium Bridge to the Tate and then winds it's way along the South Bank to Westminster. I did this walk with Lizzie several years ago and it's now an essential element of any trip I make to London.

As you cross the road before you go down the 
walkway to the bridge there is a garden with box parterres and pink and violet tulips.

And who is that behind the hedge in a blue anorak?

It's pretty simple but unexpectedly lovely.

Today is Primrose day

 I only have one and it's looking at its best right now, so here he is....

Orange - it can be classy

For the last 2 years I've struggled with the design and execution of the front-garden. For the last 2 years I have laboured at a hot-coloured potager, with the potager element dropped last year as I came to terms with the fact that I can't grow vegetables.
I have however maintained the focus on hot colours because they are such a contrast to the muted tones of the back and also because they are a nice greeting when you come home.
To the left are the wondrous Tulipa Ballerina that I have coveted, coddled and dreamed of. They symbolise the joy of gardening and are utterly worth the hard work that went into them. They, like all the uber-flowers will not last long, but burn most brightly.

There are also tulips scattered in the flower bed and here a Ballerina stands behind a jaunty Geum. Until recently I always secretly thought orange was a tacky colour that I'd normally steer clear of. The turning point was an uncharacteristic selection of some orangey-yellow Peoniolas that literally brought the sunshine into my dismal front garden (at that time). Since then I have become increasingly fixated on the greater strength and warmth that orange brings.
The brightness may start to fade when the Geum and the Ballerina fade, so I'll need to bolster them with some more Orange purchases.

Enough of orange, what of hot pink. This lovely Cirsium is on its way and it's a pretty hard working plant - its form is striking and the colour when it come will be stonking. The only downside is the by product of its form - it likes to lodge some spines in your flesh given an opportunity.

Springing from the ground...guess that's why they call it spring.... (from 27th April)

I've never made a secret of my 'amour' for fritillaries, and they are looking particularly gorgeous right now, with their improbable snake heads and cross-hatched petals.

This was the front garden beginning to awake - after the slugs have been up for weeks already. I think slugs and snails may be the new super-race as they seem tireless and impervious to life's vissitudes. I've ordered some nematodes from the internet that I've heard may be the answer.

I think the planting of this bed needs some work - the new Hebe at the front is the first step to an improved structure and year-round interest>

You can see these from Jamie's desk.

Here come the forget-me-nots.

These are Alliums.

Yet another Hebe.

Verdant is not the word.

Confession - I did not take the photos in this blog post. I utilised the skills and talents of The Man himself and I think the resulting photographs are stunning. Uploading pictures to the blog has proved well nigh impossible recently, hence the hiatus since my last offering.

Above is my relatively new Hebe, adding to the design of silvery and small-leaved plants. It overlaps (picture right) with the burgeoning Gillenia Trifolata that does not meet that part of the design at all but does have lovely white flowers.

Here is the token representative of the Bluebell quango.

We're in that window of time where the Acer looks like a stunning waterfall of freshness.

A haze of forget-me-nots rising from the Aquilegia.

Hopefully this clematis will make up for the one I butchered at the front gate. Note to similarly inexperienced gardeners, when gardeners say cut it right down to the ground, they don't actually mean the ground they mean about 80 centimetres from the ground. It is starting to bud again though, so I might get some leaves by October.

The Alliums are really promising a lot already and the structural contribution is substantial. They make me think of my forthcoming visit to Chelsea, as I've watched the coverage over the last few years and their pom-pom forms are always everywhere.