tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67695625855730112862024-02-19T11:24:57.047+00:00In the heart of an artichokephilippehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14030285393007065545noreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6769562585573011286.post-66833836482742769792009-11-22T12:24:00.017+00:002009-11-28T18:10:35.755+00:00<span style=";font-family:";font-size:85%;" >Winter is nearly here again and I realize that I have been away for a whole year – </span><span style=";font-family:";font-size:85%;" >apologies, my constant mind has been having inconsistencies!<span style=""> </span>I have written little this year, I spent the first</span><span style=";font-family:";font-size:85%;" > third of it</span><span style=";font-family:";font-size:85%;" > in Australasia and it completely turned my life upside down (quite literally </span><span style=";font-family:";font-size:85%;" >being down under!).<span style=""> </span>I am just coming back to my senses but I</span><span style=";font-family:";font-size:85%;" > am afraid my eyes are still glazed over by the sheer </span><span style=";font-family:";font-size:85%;" >beauty of New Zealand and Australia.<span style=""> </span>I could never do them justice in words, I hope you will</span><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12pt;" ><span style="font-size:85%;"> enjoy the photos!</span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0_FZgZnODr-SgLYCcbZGMV1r5eJfGzEj62RTQMi1AbMGCeV5CtkTat1_dL7VEcYxmvuayaZkktb2pjwUVeGmkSrrldPFO8n8qD9OMdQqHBeF_0PVRhorrEgeJDINHY4M1rwQF_9uIGjC6/s1600/Australasia+2009+006.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 345px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0_FZgZnODr-SgLYCcbZGMV1r5eJfGzEj62RTQMi1AbMGCeV5CtkTat1_dL7VEcYxmvuayaZkktb2pjwUVeGmkSrrldPFO8n8qD9OMdQqHBeF_0PVRhorrEgeJDINHY4M1rwQF_9uIGjC6/s400/Australasia+2009+006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406903778445932194" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Abel Tasman Park, South Island, New Zealand<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGvHTh4mo6ey4XIhyphenhyphenmzoWUd4wgC06gFkgn6APYGj-4JWm6B3qo4m-vDndGLkyLFV_8q66CkeHr1XLaXiom-LzJk2PYMMxHlPQcKyghM7-VMbDDPdoANCh27Kpxo1_5C_MkS3zpvaqzMdca/s1600/Australasia+2009+125.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGvHTh4mo6ey4XIhyphenhyphenmzoWUd4wgC06gFkgn6APYGj-4JWm6B3qo4m-vDndGLkyLFV_8q66CkeHr1XLaXiom-LzJk2PYMMxHlPQcKyghM7-VMbDDPdoANCh27Kpxo1_5C_MkS3zpvaqzMdca/s400/Australasia+2009+125.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406905045292459202" border="0" /></a>Echiums at Lake Tekapo, South Island, New Zealand<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjulWYk-CPov9tTgasiX-Ckmd13OgYw6PGmn7Ycw9320wmWx3giptSokl5jzdqcRVfzcD_MJDb6uUpAIpJ-eWax6WdvQOOqOPwcROwwtCuSYhWbT4B5sZWMVE_-1tLhws7gdcDBxcBRGNHG/s1600/Australasia+2009+343.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjulWYk-CPov9tTgasiX-Ckmd13OgYw6PGmn7Ycw9320wmWx3giptSokl5jzdqcRVfzcD_MJDb6uUpAIpJ-eWax6WdvQOOqOPwcROwwtCuSYhWbT4B5sZWMVE_-1tLhws7gdcDBxcBRGNHG/s400/Australasia+2009+343.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406907994268934754" border="0" /></a>Astilbes at Maple Glen, near Invercargill, New Zealand<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwp4BS1mdQ4Q_f2JWkvVru_E8JYNIi4YNqDAMt4xB8YHCV_JcjvcGT0Ubh_sj8sCa9x2nwtLrnhVkHE9Idgk-VkVW6wDqq72UWGcKExKoK3Q0ZIpCxUu9-kqIrarpKmUbOakBxqmTCPy49/s1600/Australasia+2009+283.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwp4BS1mdQ4Q_f2JWkvVru_E8JYNIi4YNqDAMt4xB8YHCV_JcjvcGT0Ubh_sj8sCa9x2nwtLrnhVkHE9Idgk-VkVW6wDqq72UWGcKExKoK3Q0ZIpCxUu9-kqIrarpKmUbOakBxqmTCPy49/s400/Australasia+2009+283.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406908614339890418" border="0" /></a>Freycinet Peninsula, Tasmania, Australia<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIUfwCAq9B4JYXnjrHM5qWc0zpdgvg_7Zb5SMCBdALgh9her92QV21WbD6tySgErkuKCLhS8aoWW4Od8DnLGkLzM9yGoNnaKxSpQAdmOhCRYjoKJrmq-LyUKzoqU3vNFIl7rTzzQYF-44Z/s1600/Australasia+2009+412.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIUfwCAq9B4JYXnjrHM5qWc0zpdgvg_7Zb5SMCBdALgh9her92QV21WbD6tySgErkuKCLhS8aoWW4Od8DnLGkLzM9yGoNnaKxSpQAdmOhCRYjoKJrmq-LyUKzoqU3vNFIl7rTzzQYF-44Z/s400/Australasia+2009+412.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406910897332765634" border="0" /></a><br />Idyllic Monsalvat, Melbourne, Australia<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirTM-PNxFRRhSM5-cnoj0-ATikcLCW6bPsNZ5XIv3Eejzv7mioIZRGGqjqHkPN6liLvMRzOh3PVJmlUer3A8ufuAvMzq24QvgKwGa91T1UvngjB-Vn6C9uxbcx5MRLbYbZYARONjOoejEv/s1600/Australasia+2009+717.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 306px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirTM-PNxFRRhSM5-cnoj0-ATikcLCW6bPsNZ5XIv3Eejzv7mioIZRGGqjqHkPN6liLvMRzOh3PVJmlUer3A8ufuAvMzq24QvgKwGa91T1UvngjB-Vn6C9uxbcx5MRLbYbZYARONjOoejEv/s400/Australasia+2009+717.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406913255014281922" border="0" /></a>Melaleuca leucadendra, Cairns, Queensland, Australia<br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis99tI-43VdEv65Va3D1MNaE_fZrnlb4qDDpI7fA2VibytkNu_K6pXYKlqOrPz7gfzXp_c_Nm4f8yM9odnHJ_wgMdqxJHzTN5pnBwPZToPIpoeulPD26M12IbOkTdqHUHuBFfl2mbCpG0B/s1600/Australasia+2009+919.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis99tI-43VdEv65Va3D1MNaE_fZrnlb4qDDpI7fA2VibytkNu_K6pXYKlqOrPz7gfzXp_c_Nm4f8yM9odnHJ_wgMdqxJHzTN5pnBwPZToPIpoeulPD26M12IbOkTdqHUHuBFfl2mbCpG0B/s400/Australasia+2009+919.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406919123459860866" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEfrp9WRMCs1fhHyMwcy4oLF44BGDyOrUySxKgAC1ryc2rxtn2Tc4dddmqPcXuKD-CsvRDtvfgoUg_FjlNyxP_9p4ir4rJ0ACCjokBXZJlwg2lAhhQI72Xh5VTwx1Aatzko6_919-crjAz/s1600/Australasia+2009+895.jpg"></a><div style="text-align: center;">Heaven found! north Queensland, Australia<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJwxpbkbBFAlcc-yvXN4L-n4HFNthfX91mizejbLtD6X4LGBjAJpHgdBUxD5A4aKLCKm5E1H-us6c7hObb-z4aEG0n4RFtmFbv0KY1Sf-6Di2RNyiER-1jQX_Kj2GWcDt1NMWy9bVMLFuT/s1600/Australasia+2009+972.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJwxpbkbBFAlcc-yvXN4L-n4HFNthfX91mizejbLtD6X4LGBjAJpHgdBUxD5A4aKLCKm5E1H-us6c7hObb-z4aEG0n4RFtmFbv0KY1Sf-6Di2RNyiER-1jQX_Kj2GWcDt1NMWy9bVMLFuT/s400/Australasia+2009+972.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406917266060509410" border="0" /></a>Towering structures in Sydney, Australia<br /><br /></div>philippehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14030285393007065545noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6769562585573011286.post-84701424694051467092008-11-25T22:42:00.006+00:002008-11-26T12:41:00.241+00:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNoYjh4k1fCdmeymEcR4_WaOYhx6CadwwzX8cDyxQyThWJrUb15v-SemlyQNxud7-T5-SqYrhhG2PEn07ER84z5bpMDx68PPZ2wMdY2zgLhVaxZyclyKUN-ldFi7M3MrSf7dHPrY1oLZsM/s1600-h/desert.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272945117902480754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 343px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 445px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNoYjh4k1fCdmeymEcR4_WaOYhx6CadwwzX8cDyxQyThWJrUb15v-SemlyQNxud7-T5-SqYrhhG2PEn07ER84z5bpMDx68PPZ2wMdY2zgLhVaxZyclyKUN-ldFi7M3MrSf7dHPrY1oLZsM/s400/desert.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br /><div><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:180%;">A</span>ux</span> palais de rois Mauresques</div><div>Sont plantés oliviers, cyprès et datteraies</div><div>Un murier ancien, serein</div><div>De grands chênes lièges tristes</div><div>On espère que dans la plaine rocailleuse en bas</div><div>L'amandier refleurisse</div><br /><div>Aux grands châteaux d'Espagne</div><div>Caravelles lusitanes</div><div>Vents chauds et autres Sirroccos</div><div>Les dunes Mauritanes tourbillonnent</div><div>Des grands cèdres du Liban aux pins parasols de l'Italie</div><div>Le sud se dessine sur canvas d'or et d'argenterie</div><br /><div>Aux Silhouettes, forteresses</div><div>Guitars, vielles et Castagnettes</div><div>Mer Méditerrannée, vagues du passé</div><div>Roseaux, palmiers et orangers</div><div>Mes gloires, mes joies </div><div><span style="font-size:100%;">Souvenirs de Calabria</span><span style="font-size:100%;">''</span></div><div><span style="font-size:100%;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-size:100%;"></span> </div></div>philippehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14030285393007065545noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6769562585573011286.post-26668145598205121842008-11-19T17:35:00.011+00:002008-11-25T22:42:40.227+00:00From wonder of the world to bomb site<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinVxAMp0G47l6DjRRh3W1abBTb4aQ1QG6AUtMYareSMc4SuD54_wLALwiOvMM7QJ8aHMJncl7XG3e9A3WMSLtmd954nuMysuEqpuoR4BiE-dGIeMlLNpMZBkCYsWfgbvODrCe0VJWAuKjD/s1600-h/babylon+monster.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270456470200795282" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 290px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 199px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinVxAMp0G47l6DjRRh3W1abBTb4aQ1QG6AUtMYareSMc4SuD54_wLALwiOvMM7QJ8aHMJncl7XG3e9A3WMSLtmd954nuMysuEqpuoR4BiE-dGIeMlLNpMZBkCYsWfgbvODrCe0VJWAuKjD/s320/babylon+monster.jpg" border="0" /></a>I went to the British Museum yesterday to see their new exhibition 'Babylon' which relates the history of this ancient city of Mesopotamia, an area situated between the Tigris and Euphrates rivers in modern-day Irak (from the Greek <em>meso '</em>between'<em>, and potamus '</em>river'). It is also known as the fertile crescent because it was home to several prominent ancient civilizations (including the Sumerians, Assyrians, and Persians) who revolutionized, amongst other things, western agriculture, law, language, the written alphabet and city planning. Of all these great societies, none inspires the mind more than the rise and fall of the Babylonians and their holy city Babylon ('Gateway of the God'). It was under the ruler Nebuchadnezzar II about 2600 years ago that this city became one of the most powerful place in the western world with its pyramid-like Ziggurat 'Etemenanki' <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPH9jI4DidaluLLA5we9oquLCjh0xhq-tNuytsw0Y0cyGdDgbJuEg024Y3A9lDxcvPWDdnfcfIhVeBBmLwmbDYEBTtZCiQPWKYkS1yId3JzLa4nfKOQZbiK3lX1uYY2muSUP4NsEUBGXmZ/s1600-h/tower+of+babel.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270455496664989234" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 262px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPH9jI4DidaluLLA5we9oquLCjh0xhq-tNuytsw0Y0cyGdDgbJuEg024Y3A9lDxcvPWDdnfcfIhVeBBmLwmbDYEBTtZCiQPWKYkS1yId3JzLa4nfKOQZbiK3lX1uYY2muSUP4NsEUBGXmZ/s320/tower+of+babel.jpg" border="0" /></a>(refered to as 'The tower of Babel' in the bible), its 'Ishtar Gate' (originally one of the Wonders of the World but later replaced by the Lighthouse at Alexandria) and, most famous of all, its Suspended Gardens. It was in the hope that I might be enlightened on these mythical gardens that I made my way to the exhibition. I knew that they had long disappear, together with most of the other wonders of the world (only the Great Pyramid at Giza still persist), but thought there might remain some ancient pieces of puzzle about them. As it turns out, there is no tangible evidence whatever about them or what they might have looked like. This in itself could be a great disappointment, but it was quite interesting to look at the various renditions painted or drawn by artists over the centuries. Some imagined them as a pyramidal garden but like others, I like to think they might have been an early form of roof top gardens. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5dhl2Z_BEyeUWriAQToA1iBl3VenzKVB4XSbUA5z7eCaoLQZB1SH_Ut3Uvqoi2nIpOpWHoXvsyxuMCIrdS8SlkomAjnVqpftB6q77QUhHDWzAVoCnUZaRNn3TThZFNi3vnA-JDujHocoY/s1600-h/jardins+suspendus+de+babylone.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270454189944614898" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 270px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 203px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5dhl2Z_BEyeUWriAQToA1iBl3VenzKVB4XSbUA5z7eCaoLQZB1SH_Ut3Uvqoi2nIpOpWHoXvsyxuMCIrdS8SlkomAjnVqpftB6q77QUhHDWzAVoCnUZaRNn3TThZFNi3vnA-JDujHocoY/s320/jardins+suspendus+de+babylone.jpg" border="0" /></a>Were they lush and exhuberant like oases or formal and contrived as some depict them?<br />My botanical mind wonders what plants might have been grown in the hot desertic climate of southern Irak; the date palm, the pomagranate, the olive, the cypress... my knowledge of middle eastern plants is sorely lacking. My horticulturist mind, on the other hand, wonders how such construction might might have been watered. Ancient tablets at Ninveh (another ancient city of Mesopotamia, further north where, some say, the gardens might have been instead of Babylon) mention some form of irrigation device similar to an Archimede' screw to lift water upwards. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4XpIDo8FOMSbB4T-HL8QxHQNJLRstUxe1TKncwF8vGHWGQXgnawg0-7dBZmnKR-Vvy4tPl8gYhYOU6y4Ql3wUBvIX3-hO_OSQlwWjoAd4ZuY_2w2u6s2xJZkdqmub_5qZ1nrOD0AiQmb7/s1600-h/shadouf.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270450255829491666" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 202px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4XpIDo8FOMSbB4T-HL8QxHQNJLRstUxe1TKncwF8vGHWGQXgnawg0-7dBZmnKR-Vvy4tPl8gYhYOU6y4Ql3wUBvIX3-hO_OSQlwWjoAd4ZuY_2w2u6s2xJZkdqmub_5qZ1nrOD0AiQmb7/s320/shadouf.jpg" border="0" /></a> Some archeologists allude to simpler tools like the shadouf of ancient Egypt as a possibility. I like to think that the Babylonian might have had a drip system of sorts. In a world where one can draw water from a tap, it is awe inspiring to think of a lush suspended garden in a desertic climate solely watered by hand!<br />If nothing remains of the Suspended Gardens, precious little remains of the ancient city of Babylon itself. The Germans salvaged what remained of the Ishtar gate and some precious fragments of clay with inscriptions in the early part of the past century but recently Saddam Hussein, followed by the American army managed to destroy what was left. Saddam, thinking himself a modern day Nebuchadnezzar began rebuilding a modern version of the city on the old ruins but his ambitions were soon cooled when the United States set up military base on the very spot of the ruins. Whilst most of us want to cling on to ancient history for our mental salvation, some think nothing of wiping it off to make way for helipads and war trenches. Incredible really.philippehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14030285393007065545noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6769562585573011286.post-32969040996320542622008-10-26T06:01:00.008+00:002008-11-06T20:38:18.648+00:00Childhood desires...<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265644450677674338" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV_OPyXbqnGZnc_c49YJ6yquPzEn0QhLcc3AgA5MDZBELn_-pmp2EgIrTcTmtlCehEaEts0e0xRXcGr5VgPagRsAzEV1NBbp6dhJefjt2HbPe_GP_YYAKGTTX1HBQO-Ic0lMFK8OvVJFiz/s320/devon+019.jpg" border="0" />They say if you believe in your dreams strongly enough, they eventually come true. As far as my own dreams went as a child, I was a bit of an odd ball. Whilst most other boys marvelled at big trucks and fire engines and dreamed of becoming Formula 1 champions, I liked the natural world and wished for a galop with the giraffes in Africa or a picnic in amongst the Giant Redwoods of California. At that tender age, I didn't know where I would be able to experience these adventures, but I knew it was much further afield than mother and father had ever taken me and that I would even have to get there in an airplane - something I didn't even contemplate as a possibility. My dreams seemed very distant indeed and I could never have imagined that 20 years on in my life I would be eating my sandwich under the bows of wild Sequoias.<br /><br /><div>Last month I travelled to the west coast of America to see the delights of San Francisco, Monterey and the Wine valleys and among many of my anticipations was, or course, the one of seeing the mighty redwood forests. Before I go further I should perhaps mention that there are two different trees known as redwoods; the Coastal redwood (Sequoia sempervirens) and the Giant redwood or Wellingtonia (Sequoiadendron giganteum). They are both found in California, the first, as its name implies, along the coast from Southern Oregon down to Central California, the other some 4 hours drive inland from San Francisco, on the foothill of the the Sierra Nevada mountain range. They are closely related plants but quite distinct and easily identified. the Coastal redwood has flat green needles and a slender, somewhat scruffy silhouette whilst the wellingtonia has scaly blusish needles and a stout billowing appearance. Both hold a record for size - the wellingtonia for sheer bulk ('General Sherman' with an estimated size of 1489 cu. meters, making it the largest living single entity on the planet), and the coastal redwood for height (the 'Hyperion tree' at 115.55 meters (or 379.1 feet, a somewhat more impressive number!)). Both trees have a wood of excellent quality and most of their population has been decimated by humans in the early days of colonisation of California. The coastal redwood was worse hit, being closer to the ocean and more accessible to logging companies - less than 5 percent of the original old growth forest now remain and is found in protected areas such as the Big Basin Redwoods State Park in the Santa Cruz mountains near Saratoga where I had the great fortune to find myself only a couple of weeks ago. </div><div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265643675107451186" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 283px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 422px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3lXcEWZ0erAsE5sSWeYuOADgmzH7fC4XJzoJtEkfua43Cg7gj5JHU3HVBVADbFpOe8qAhEtBuGTvliQmEl_YrlrY71LtN7JlaxMvHd4OZqe1sV2iOxa1TFe3FoAovhly43YSpKylxYR5S/s400/devon+018.jpg" border="0" /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>The experience of walking in amongst the tallest trees in the world is a difficult one to share in writing, one can only say that it is a very humbling one! With so many gentle giants surrounding me, I felt really protected, peaceful. For a while I managed to forget about the crumbling state of the world and of the madness of my own modern life and really enjoy the moment for what it was; a dream come true.</div>philippehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14030285393007065545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6769562585573011286.post-68079288658139926682008-09-18T21:32:00.029+01:002008-09-20T21:07:54.618+01:00Gramineusement vôtre!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOn3PkzWjnE9porQdNCArwqbQDqkfwPbGxKusyJYafo4NokWz7TK5uv_kbkMYqC1BqIANsPVpZXMhXvOOkaHdV7uJ2DiVeORdAOK00bsctRWX3QPFueen6g1tyHCk_3xrNyqdiSJdqVIql/s1600-h/dewy_spider_web.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247649286816357954" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOn3PkzWjnE9porQdNCArwqbQDqkfwPbGxKusyJYafo4NokWz7TK5uv_kbkMYqC1BqIANsPVpZXMhXvOOkaHdV7uJ2DiVeORdAOK00bsctRWX3QPFueen6g1tyHCk_3xrNyqdiSJdqVIql/s320/dewy_spider_web.jpg" border="0" /></a>L’équinoxe nous sonne le glas de l’été, l’automne est déjà là! Son arrivée nous apporte les matins embus de fraîcheur et les brumes mystérieuses qui givrent les toiles d’araignées de rosée. Les bordures, quelque peu ternies en fin d’été s’illuminent soudain d’or et de paillettes, c’est la grande valse des graminées qui ouvre son jeu!<br /><br />D’un coté, les grandes dames et les grands ducs de la Pampas, <em>Cortaderia selloana</em>, toujours aussi impressionnants de leur stature et de leur générosité, mais quelque peu démodés aux yeux des Anglais qui les cultivent de moins en moins. On les trouvent trop raides et surtout trop clichées. On ôse peut-être encore planter la variété ‘Rendatleri’<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj44L2ISy5f9fGrK8wfIHOqSwvqBtSnoqNW7YEh60ouoXhap6YSys_bJXvgVhE7YHELYr-MiBA33oAEOIL_vEpRcbXNIkI_GqJCFGhnHV-yq-nK_Tx5bJRS2bwwmzHVRPRUld7mGkcrHAK6/s1600-h/Cortaderia-"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247468266166582194" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj44L2ISy5f9fGrK8wfIHOqSwvqBtSnoqNW7YEh60ouoXhap6YSys_bJXvgVhE7YHELYr-MiBA33oAEOIL_vEpRcbXNIkI_GqJCFGhnHV-yq-nK_Tx5bJRS2bwwmzHVRPRUld7mGkcrHAK6/s320/Cortaderia-'Rendatleri'.jpg" border="0" /></a> aux plumes rose cuivré dans les grands domaines, mais du haut de ses échasses de ses 4 mètres elle est souvent bien trop grande pour le jardin moderne. Deux variétés, de taille plus réduite méritent à mon avis, un peu plus d'attention et une place dans la bordure : ‘Icalma’ particulière de ses épis fournis comme des queues de lapin <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaOGDxAjt8jRNZ4fkLHMzskMYE_OtgxQ3hvPzEZFBOFAusoU5MqOhPafhxgdwi-LdkQ6uHyEo1x3_-KRsYQk4ZJOnWnOgl7VpSnG5Z8O1ikudJF0J965r9RJZ-C5nT41BY_7L3-ZQQsL6f/s1600-h/grasses+030.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247462196470438002" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 210px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px" height="295" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaOGDxAjt8jRNZ4fkLHMzskMYE_OtgxQ3hvPzEZFBOFAusoU5MqOhPafhxgdwi-LdkQ6uHyEo1x3_-KRsYQk4ZJOnWnOgl7VpSnG5Z8O1ikudJF0J965r9RJZ-C5nT41BY_7L3-ZQQsL6f/s320/grasses+030.jpg" width="219" border="0" /></a>brunes (à gauche) <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNAFl6ZHa5WyUosqclVls6DGN-Y3xA0NRLfaHuN_QL2XXrediHYwJAKzEeXyYb9r2U8dPVS7r2SUUerCg4Fg15C1v1Oflk3zsyEzsYtnMC2p08sxsyGwjo9G9VGJPKnMkQtTtKeveQUzcR/s1600-h/grasses+041.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247462405724643346" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 194px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 294px" height="306" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNAFl6ZHa5WyUosqclVls6DGN-Y3xA0NRLfaHuN_QL2XXrediHYwJAKzEeXyYb9r2U8dPVS7r2SUUerCg4Fg15C1v1Oflk3zsyEzsYtnMC2p08sxsyGwjo9G9VGJPKnMkQtTtKeveQUzcR/s320/grasses+041.jpg" width="216" border="0" /></a>et ‘Patagonia’ dorée et légère et au feuillage bleuté (à droite). La plus élégante des Cortaderia n'en n’est pas une des Pampas cependant. Elle est d’origine Néo-Zélandaise où on l’appelle toetoe, c’est la <em>Cortaderia richardii</em>.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247468853816137314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN86IGJ3Yw17YUItfcJC01nIGqvlU3akfuqQHsuMlaQo64OtdJRZYqN3F1ATBcVMC0XdHD1vR5xqVCRliClzcqrIisSTyLa6sS3JVyblCEeGBE3wupvNikZhdRJqRMTaojTUW1epWY65o_/s400/grasses+033.jpg" border="0" /> Sans aucun doute la plus merveilleuse des graminées, elle commande toute l’attention et doit être placée contre un fond vert sombre pour être appréciée à son meilleur. Elle est débordante et demandante cependant et seuls ceux choyés d'espace grandioses pourront l'accomoder.<br /><div><br /><div><div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkq2pKOcc-7baH3MxfrOJyseUjtzMbOOTA9Ju8hYf6KYN9F4NfiUHa7Ez5sLXjXS_cyVR-HtJQ1hL06xLU2_nsriTI1ThSevzG1fvFdfYtqvWbrYP8R0-J4l7AOUO1CVJC0LAQQS4HBxks/s1600-h/grasses+043.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247647372369758642" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkq2pKOcc-7baH3MxfrOJyseUjtzMbOOTA9Ju8hYf6KYN9F4NfiUHa7Ez5sLXjXS_cyVR-HtJQ1hL06xLU2_nsriTI1ThSevzG1fvFdfYtqvWbrYP8R0-J4l7AOUO1CVJC0LAQQS4HBxks/s320/grasses+043.jpg" border="0" /></a>D'allure semblable mais beaucoup plus populaire parce que plus réduite de taille, la <em>Stipa gigantea </em>a aussi belle figure. Elle fleurit longtemps celle-là, étirant ses grandes tiges dès juin, de beaux épis légers qu'elle gardera au moins jusqu'à noël. C'est une graminée au feuillage persistant qui nous vient d'Espagne et qui malheureusement, comme l'herbe de la Pampas, manque un peu de rusticité dans les climats continentaux. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfIqON-q9U4mzpLJqOv_v5apX-A91EjcSHFLHSML5yoTY5kiHlFSIBFxrBJP9ecrNNsFvCqbsikjcSTPZEP7sFXhFn6H8r_6XzvvWManla8VgfhGtqf36JsnyOcGOLCxdG8fZYMrRW-Qs5/s1600-h/grasses+028.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247643568408160338" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfIqON-q9U4mzpLJqOv_v5apX-A91EjcSHFLHSML5yoTY5kiHlFSIBFxrBJP9ecrNNsFvCqbsikjcSTPZEP7sFXhFn6H8r_6XzvvWManla8VgfhGtqf36JsnyOcGOLCxdG8fZYMrRW-Qs5/s320/grasses+028.jpg" border="0" /></a>N'ayez de déceptions cependant, braves jardininers nordiques qui rêvez de démesure, il y a toujours le Miscanthus sur lequel jeter son dévolu! Et s'il est moins impressionnant que la Cortaderia, il n'en est pas plus laid pour autant, au contraire, il est plus léger et mobile et sait jouer avec le vent. Pour les fous de hauteur, 'Giganteus' est le cultivar a adopter, mais il ne fleuri pas et moi je lui préfère 'Malepartus'<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieO9tA9Xgww5lQfB9-LZR6cG7u38abEnR2nLMzWDp1G3g2_c0r1XHSnpB8XTlEjbqfp4xXTY9XDvMSzShs10djWprVtlDcBYixryRTEy68cvILSgCgJZsEW7vjZwVMHYFSYap0Uc3_xZO8/s1600-h/66%20Malepartus%20F03.jpg"></a>, <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2igjcvjL6_83_HEmneC2X_TvfLktnpPBVUUHTnUz9DbE8yD9QQtuDtgAZzSMLS_O45_7BdwwU_ClkaQG6xqlssyNGdYnpFSq9DU3cOI1PRoX6fq75nNXHFd56VyJjU5n0DfDFcWlHreAz/s1600-h/66%20Malepartus%20F03.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247652675028462946" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2igjcvjL6_83_HEmneC2X_TvfLktnpPBVUUHTnUz9DbE8yD9QQtuDtgAZzSMLS_O45_7BdwwU_ClkaQG6xqlssyNGdYnpFSq9DU3cOI1PRoX6fq75nNXHFd56VyJjU5n0DfDFcWlHreAz/s320/66%2520Malepartus%2520F03.jpg" border="0" /></a>la variété la plus belle et la plus élégante de tous les grands Miscanthus. Je l'ai vu briller de ses 2m50 dans les jardins du Domaine Joly de Lotbinière, Québec (zone 4) il y a quelques années déjà et depuis je le convoite et le courtise et il me réjoui toujours de sa généreuse floraison argentée.<br /><br /></div><div></div></div></div></div></div>philippehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14030285393007065545noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6769562585573011286.post-25434084171915172732008-09-11T23:17:00.034+01:002008-09-15T22:03:27.761+01:00Ginger bread anyone?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhZ3hVvXhVhUtHi4n72N5m-HUbeolPlD7VyYm9ttoNDCq6I0BsYZTHkQ1Va-D6-QX04lOVi__ptHlON0I_vmbKhT6cK1NOy1D4GYeIki4BEpo7K4jFgs2YspBb29wStGfdDxpaoMeRCNhh/s1600-h/Hedychium+"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245579418330248322" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhZ3hVvXhVhUtHi4n72N5m-HUbeolPlD7VyYm9ttoNDCq6I0BsYZTHkQ1Va-D6-QX04lOVi__ptHlON0I_vmbKhT6cK1NOy1D4GYeIki4BEpo7K4jFgs2YspBb29wStGfdDxpaoMeRCNhh/s320/Hedychium+%27Tara%27+004.jpg" border="0" /></a>I have a new best friend. She is called ‘Tara’ and comes from Nepal. She is most elegant, a svelte figure with an arched back and strong legs; she would be right at home on a high fashion runway. She has a bright complexion, exotic looks and smells faintly of gardenia, she could have been the queen of Sheba. She has a very flighty personality yet she is a completely devoted character; she is a ginger!<br />I bought my first ornamental<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggNSw7GePLtYCbHg8RzfpxYl40d-uk1gBGjWWsh-p9Q0DtRyFqda_XAg6aj5iwpdzmKouFfDLram7PAZTR0k62IYVKAjVScIFjREAWXMGjWd4d2TG8uPhnbsbCETrlNkftwd0Aa1a9BqOY/s1600-h/Hedychium+"></a> ginger two years ago from the wonderful Architectural Plants nursery in Horsham. I had already admired tropical gingers but I hadn’t realized that there were many hardy ones we can grow here in our mild temperate climate.<br />I already knew of the diminutive <em>Roscoea<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9w6OhPkVO2fJcSB-emsWN6ezzxtF62jZcres4p0M9Xn-WgS5p2ZOD4p9wuvAbEBC1VWYm4DEWkmR1rku5Nre9oOiiwKEyqCwZcK9x_ssegZrsAnuNgoTzY3_8Lpchr_hv5p_EbhRBdaJt/s1600-h/roscoea+white.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245430660053340306" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9w6OhPkVO2fJcSB-emsWN6ezzxtF62jZcres4p0M9Xn-WgS5p2ZOD4p9wuvAbEBC1VWYm4DEWkmR1rku5Nre9oOiiwKEyqCwZcK9x_ssegZrsAnuNgoTzY3_8Lpchr_hv5p_EbhRBdaJt/s320/roscoea+white.jpg" border="0" /></a></em>, <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX8mm62xfkvmbGhCQUDQX6616K-FuLjtJt72TQxBygE69EQXN8ap2aml_deLtnJQHelToCmZ2ofxnejNdhIDlE7rIS8LEVVnhGM_R0uPEV9ZhAwfsYd52gj6Jef8WZNe3CjAgOxQ6vCNHO/s1600-h/Roscoeaauriculata.jpg"></a>a pretty plant indeed but not one that makes a great statement in the garden. It does have the exotic look of the family Zingiberaceae with its large fleshy orchid-like blooms and strappy leaves clasping the stem, and really I do love it, but it cannot compare to its larger relatives. I discovered the ginger family through its tropical species. I had encountered them in my travels to Malaysia, Thailand and Singapore (where a whole section of the Botanical Gardens is devoted to them). I also learned a lot about them when staying and working with friends in North Queensland three years ago. It was Suzie and Alan who introduced me to their native backscratcher ginger, <em>Tapenochilos annanassae</em>, the beehive ginger, <em>Zingiber spectabile</em> and most exciting and impressive of all,<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6hw7KHpm-0MLt8z7Hs5YA92V7wze82gvLHMdg0v8rRwOuF0GiOEwdpOHflMe6YDwchaV_jfIoHtbkSWM5gcic905EjPg8Tppl0YChGgLmyIsTg3Xuu2H7Fr15QK-a9Z00VuoqRVb_SvKS/s1600-h/Etlingera.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244891556666931618" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6hw7KHpm-0MLt8z7Hs5YA92V7wze82gvLHMdg0v8rRwOuF0GiOEwdpOHflMe6YDwchaV_jfIoHtbkSWM5gcic905EjPg8Tppl0YChGgLmyIsTg3Xuu2H7Fr15QK-a9Z00VuoqRVb_SvKS/s320/Etlingera.jpg" border="0" /></a> the stately Torch ginger, <em>Etlingera elatior</em>. This last one I recognized as ‘La Rose de Porcelaine’ from a photograph I had seen many years before in a French gardening magazine. It had caught my imagination as a teenager and it was somewhat unreal an experience to see it in the flesh, also perhaps because its large waxy flower didn't look quite real in itself.<br />Apart from these beauties, I had also acquainted with gingers in my kitchen. Apart from the ginger root (<em>Zingiber officinale</em>) which I use profusely in my cooking (delicious grated on a toast with melted cheddar on top - I promise, try it!), there is also cardamom (the seeds of <em>Elettaria cardamomum</em>), galangal (the root of <em>Alpinia galanga</em>) and tumeric (the powdered root of <em>Curcuma longa</em>), to use as spices. I think cardamom is grossely underused. It has a most wonderful citrus-meet-cedar-meet-ginger fragrance. It is one of the mysterious spices that gives Indian food its unique flavour. Here, I use it mostly in sweet cooking as I think its lemoney taste goes well with fruits and cakes. I first discovered it through a poppy seed bread recipe and have been faithful to it since. See what you make of it:<br /><br /><br /><strong>Poppy seed bread</strong><br /><br />125 g granulated sugar<br />125 g light brown sugar<br />3 large eggs (or 4 medium)<br />140 g spelt or wholemeal flour<br />140 g plain flour<br />250 mL vegetable oil (sunflower or rapeseed)<br />125 mL milk (soya is fine)<br />75 g poppy seeds<br />1 ½ tsp. baking powder<br />1 tsp. each of cinnamon, crushed cardamom seeds<br />½ tsp. allspice, powdered ginger<br /><br />oven: 350F/180C<br /><br />Mix the sugars with the eggs. Add the oil in a slow and steady trickle, beating as you go along. Mix the flour with the baking powder the poppy seeds and the spices, then incorporate this mix into the mixture, alternating with the milk. Put in an extra large bread pan (30 cm X 15 cm, no smaller otherwise the edge of the cake burns before the centre is cooked) and bake until it is soft and tender in the middle, approximately 60 minutes.<br /><br />Sorry we are getting sidetracked, the belly takes over the brain so fast sometimes! I was about to extol the virtues of the hardy gingers, not so much for their edible properties as for their ornemamental ones - although - before I do this, I feel the urge to mention just one last edible ginger, a hardy one this time and one that I have been growing for a couple of years with great success. I visited Japan a few years ago and for a month experienced its culinary exoticism. On one occasion I was presented a pale pink teardrop-shaped sliced pickle which was absolutely delicious, similar to pickled ginger we get in the west, but with a more fruity taste and a crunchier texture. I enquired about it and was told it was 'myoga' - as I don't speak Japanese, this could have meant anything to me. I was eager to find out more and seeing my vivid interest, the host took me to the garden to show me the plant.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ_VurZXPrKoR-NUcoMKttp-SYTir1jYN2M42-d2yqtgePvioLoKCvwkr3MLtp5sxolqDZQJwU5gmAZaJF0XqO1BlBXCBimweg8yORYAqGLTzL7gB8-hT8DPpQ0HR5BhORyUDBSDH8CgqC/s1600-h/myoga+009.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245567785838350210" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ_VurZXPrKoR-NUcoMKttp-SYTir1jYN2M42-d2yqtgePvioLoKCvwkr3MLtp5sxolqDZQJwU5gmAZaJF0XqO1BlBXCBimweg8yORYAqGLTzL7gB8-hT8DPpQ0HR5BhORyUDBSDH8CgqC/s320/myoga+009.jpg" border="0" /></a> It looked just like a dwarf ginger but had no flowers, or at least it didn't seem to...until my host pointed them out, hiding amongst the foliage, just coming out of the ground. I recognized the shape of the pickle and realized that that was what I had been eating, the flower buds! I didn't hear of myoga after that for a long time, I hadn't been able to source it upon returning here and had not researched it further. Then two years ago, whilst perusing through the list of the excellent nusery Crûg Farm, I cam across it, <em>Zingiber myoga</em>! It wasn't long before I had paid them a visit and bought myself a nice pot full of it. It said on the label that the hardiness was unknown, but I knew it would survive here, for when<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGQCCaf2OQ9s4wYRQokX866hImCnr2QP_XAtl0IVnSgud6oL70RDFfDfFAajZGi_tSS8g1riGMJF6QUk8BwQzSewDy1xHrli2EY7bF0Js2vyI6VheSjNXUfz8SRYAT0ldVQqgtQsyapr3m/s1600-h/myoga+006.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245563396678270770" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 297px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 220px" height="287" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGQCCaf2OQ9s4wYRQokX866hImCnr2QP_XAtl0IVnSgud6oL70RDFfDfFAajZGi_tSS8g1riGMJF6QUk8BwQzSewDy1xHrli2EY7bF0Js2vyI6VheSjNXUfz8SRYAT0ldVQqgtQsyapr3m/s320/myoga+006.jpg" width="367" border="0" /></a> I had seen in Japan I was in Hakodate, Hokkaido, where temperatures can drop to -15C. Not only did it survive the last two winters, it thrived (like other gingers, it positively romps away when happy) and I now have three large patches of it giving me, as I write this, my very own myoga to pickle in rice wine vinegar - how so special!<br />Sorry, once again we are neglecting our hardy ornemental gingers! If 'Tara' is the most impressive of all the hardy Hedychiums, there are many more to excite our senses. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBXyNCJYiniZ1S_GeNMUO3YAU2NDjRgAKd8TXCFxloQPvsX3_mbQgwla9Tuqs3NcP-GppSgqvD1zeZQufLzGCgXUJ8QqihvPXXXpB1dvxW4FZYXGqD_3YjcgOK-ZEU1gzAKPa4TjzV4vDl/s1600-h/Hedychium+"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245579176693696482" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBXyNCJYiniZ1S_GeNMUO3YAU2NDjRgAKd8TXCFxloQPvsX3_mbQgwla9Tuqs3NcP-GppSgqvD1zeZQufLzGCgXUJ8QqihvPXXXpB1dvxW4FZYXGqD_3YjcgOK-ZEU1gzAKPa4TjzV4vDl/s320/Hedychium+%27Stephen%27.jpg" border="0" /></a>I don't grow many others at the moment, only H. flavescens, which hasn't flowered being in its first year (gingers do grow fast, but usually need a settling period before they begin flowering). Tony Schilling, who introduced 'Tara' from a wild collection in Nepal also brought back a lovely plant he called 'Stephen' (right). <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOKfIppHhaWFcIxIcOy377-opgbuguqVgNMpWMk5aayQB6tMIp44Xkc-I3NbqPWigOOi5wDxVCMgA_0h0eZi0QCBOLBzBEu-syIb1pe4wsz-rr3IJDQUokxsTWC2sqCe8Pw3MWX7HqOYXR/s1600-h/Hedychium+"></a>I don't grow it but have been told it does very well in the United Kingdom. I used to have H. densiflorum 'Assam Orange' in my previous garden, but the rabbits found out how tasty it was when I was on leave and ate my small clump, root and all. It is quite similar in colour to 'Tara' but it has slenderer spikes. It is different enough that I should really like to have it again.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Vye4QCvralLgktDfbBbc779qGEK2YxUJBUnHRUjh5ApjS2Uwd0mmNW7mZ0vYuR5CddPJ9i13YwUbaNGvGwPBQtIhBfhOtpBTPwjvznid6JsMoaMCqfdXxIytfpqO3goKzkNw790bPasj/s1600-h/Hedychium+spicatum.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245579029840222530" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Vye4QCvralLgktDfbBbc779qGEK2YxUJBUnHRUjh5ApjS2Uwd0mmNW7mZ0vYuR5CddPJ9i13YwUbaNGvGwPBQtIhBfhOtpBTPwjvznid6JsMoaMCqfdXxIytfpqO3goKzkNw790bPasj/s320/Hedychium+spicatum.jpg" border="0" /></a>Then there is H. yunnanense, <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH2M12pwxBCsjgk0-94JLNQIyNHo9QZMhSyRfXsAyJ_4s3Bgx9XorGfhFJf3M70Uu9zhgH8Hj4xEu9cXy9opJPezR-t4KZYvBRsVhD5OexkFb-_L-OJOcuEkc-thR0Xc7C67IPQkzwWvWV/s1600-h/Hedychium+spicatum.jpg"></a>which I have admired at the entrance of the RHS Wisley but haven't encountered for sale yet. It looks similar to the tropical butterfly ginger, <em>H. coronarium</em> but is hardier and freer flowering in a cool climate. It doesn't have the same powerful scent but a subtle exotic fragrance nonetheless.<br />Kew Gardens has a really nice collection of rarer hardy gingers by the herbarium and this makes me want to try and source more for next year. What about you? Ginger beer anyone?philippehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14030285393007065545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6769562585573011286.post-31794360888750819962008-09-03T23:37:00.035+01:002008-09-05T09:16:39.501+01:00Fire burning bright<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242287138467073442" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqJHWt2CysbIycQ9JIf_43T9hi1INIQxyMm40mT02NWBI552W6WSa4Fpj9nQUMqSNTpPyMpmgCKet0om0ssE7UHAf9hD52PKPNZ8lwrJjxzJb35Obhi59D96FAhmxPD0wgQj2MZ9Hcs6Uc/s320/orange+002.jpg" border="0" />'Torch lily', 'Red Hot Poker', 'Satan's embers'; such are the firey names given to the South African Kniphofia, and how appropriate they all are! No other perennial can rival this amazing plant for boldness of colour and stature. From the first flower in June till the last one in October, there is always a poker to brighten up the garden.<br /><div><div><div><div>People often associate the Kniphofia with a a tawdry mix of deep burned orange and yellow, but there are some marvelous hybrids of various colours to choose from nowadays. Take for example the wonderful 'Rich Echos' (above) with a mixture of lemon, bronze and pale orange, the equally elegant 'Timothy' in its dark salmon robe (below, in one of Clive Nichols's beautiful photographs of Pettifers) <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242302603587586674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRUG5mFLUG5A-WpQo135IgtatCzj9hOE-C66I3Z34rHQeCOjOm_imIkeM2KdBgmdASgbrSInRBBPiqiVgalXvjZfvSTwZlo4oU84vmY6jMlpebO6ktCFQBDUisEnFK_fmQMrlMBbVy4wgi/s400/kniphofia+timothy.jpg" border="0" />or the most intense of them all, 'Lord Roberts' (below).<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242302791689592642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzz7G_pJ9a8hciR4JSnSR61fvRgw7DGfSUUxdquPLd0oGpqvmg5ID0ZgI55JY6JqcZtBvjUK5LJGA5VccjkIMF5mNws9PTemvb5gIh27CVtTKypin4a21zj8z3BhngNMnDjp9hW1sI3icZ/s400/kniphofia+lord+roberts.jpg" border="0" /> The argumentative person might like to point out to me that not all Kniphofias are vibrant, that there are some which display quite cool shades of cream and green that couldn't even ignite a dry pile of straw, and I have to agree for the most scrumptious I possess, 'Coolknip', is indeed positively icy looking. Even if it cannot match the vibrant orange and red ones in terms of sheer drama<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisXYNkJZE9DjGPMC56Dl0Bg86v9FIqz9pI5AuzY-b9AQhNa19JNKU5c-7DXXqHUkIlR2lHuJio6rXBcBScKxOcNmSFzjIacc8NVhwQmKyc-SE6kSIwkAdo83wVfwXQF7DykNQfnXSaPEZo/s1600-h/kniphofia-"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242143562867419266" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisXYNkJZE9DjGPMC56Dl0Bg86v9FIqz9pI5AuzY-b9AQhNa19JNKU5c-7DXXqHUkIlR2lHuJio6rXBcBScKxOcNmSFzjIacc8NVhwQmKyc-SE6kSIwkAdo83wVfwXQF7DykNQfnXSaPEZo/s320/kniphofia-'coolknip'.jpg" border="0" /></a> I wouldn't be without it for it is a very special plant. I bought it from plantwoman extraordinaire Ellen Hornig who runs Seneca Hill Perennials in Upstate New York, USA. She herself had received it from a friend in California, so it has made a long journey to come all the way here in my English garden. It is a most impressive poker with stately green flowers very late in the summer (or more likely this year, early autumn). As I am writing it has yet to show its flower buds through the foliage and it probably won't do so until the end of the month. I like that because it extends the season. I have many other kniphfias in bloom at the moment, including the similar but smaller 'Percy's Pride', so 'Coolknip' can wait a little longer. </div><div><div>Apart from 'Percy's Pride' I've got K. uvaria 'Nobilis' putting up a show at the moment. This is, I believe, the tallest of all<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv3I2MJl9kc6py4G3XNjLfzDcM7oz2Is0NKqpSIBdk9AlFbORL3BAI8aRhyphenhyphengTVc2c-I-F_rFEV4d5_Ie-ITULrDIfbeE2rINpsYKZzR93T_0cBJbC5imZw0spGYxDf4oa0ksd3FiTW-oyF/s1600-h/mixed+018.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242201274951521394" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv3I2MJl9kc6py4G3XNjLfzDcM7oz2Is0NKqpSIBdk9AlFbORL3BAI8aRhyphenhyphengTVc2c-I-F_rFEV4d5_Ie-ITULrDIfbeE2rINpsYKZzR93T_0cBJbC5imZw0spGYxDf4oa0ksd3FiTW-oyF/s320/mixed+018.jpg" border="0" /></a> Kniphofias, and although mine is quite tall at about 6 ft, the ones at Kew Gardens had to be seen to be believed this year, they must have topped a good 9 ft - the sight of them in the Cambridge Cottage garden transfixed me for a moment. How I wish I had had a camera handy! Next year perhaps. In the meantime there is also the smart 'Toffee Nosed' in flower in the cutting border. It is one of the most elegant forms with slender flowers of various shades of cream and bronze - well done to the person who named it so cleverly!<br /></div><div>The <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGgKBquHiRtbMjGxV07NNFT3DR-lQuKQjQhtTKy9N4Kp4VkliTohSJz6gyBO9YYkDxn4TwkvellZYAG0Dk9YpfFILb9O74tW5usBmxweuEhssFUKT6nheukcT3jEEO6sdqwP1eVsLHIVzh/s1600-h/kniphofia+northiae.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242303332064213810" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="373" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGgKBquHiRtbMjGxV07NNFT3DR-lQuKQjQhtTKy9N4Kp4VkliTohSJz6gyBO9YYkDxn4TwkvellZYAG0Dk9YpfFILb9O74tW5usBmxweuEhssFUKT6nheukcT3jEEO6sdqwP1eVsLHIVzh/s400/kniphofia+northiae.jpg" width="276" border="0" /></a>one small snag about Kniphofias is their strappy foliage, which can be a little overwhelming or untidy in some varieties. Those I have mentioned so far are pretty neat in growth generally and there are several others which are good, two of which are even outstanding: Kniphofia caulescens with large blue rosettes and the king of all of them, K. northiae with huge succulent leaves like a hardy aloe (right).</div><div></div><div></div><div>There are of course some smaller daintier forms than the ones I have mentioned so far such as 'Little Maid', 'Bressingham Comet' and 'Nancy's Red' which I used to grow and loved. I tired of them evntually though, they just lack the punch I want from Kniphofia. They are too posé and polite somehow - and lets admit it, if one felt so inclined to refine one's taste it would be better to start collecting bone china tea cups - much less work on the long run!</div></div></div></div></div>philippehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14030285393007065545noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6769562585573011286.post-84501480648052294802008-08-14T13:02:00.007+01:002008-08-18T09:32:38.980+01:00<div align="right"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234343871413802322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="276" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI3F6TsmNCG2AMlbVdelMHnECMB8rBlc7lAh1RDl0ZBaHjIlyAlsEUOzWYXuyTjGBPkqh5eQjyjoq9vjChbeb3j_0HLFROb85Z6zMYik9fAeOBd7s_uXSGCPrApN8U0rlttrWnqxUiexQ-/s400/alhambra.jpg" width="420" border="0" /><span style="font-size:78%;"> La Alhambra, Granada</span></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-ed50JKYDNSpO9VkYU8MOCN9zSJ329KPeF0rOucK6-s8S17Fqtr-WyBRKATl6gXw8502HijPjqK0yz8QETNvO6bSmCWqIRA3Q0qjjwzAd4qY2ZCeskzmu1T_5jn1UKdLBzvoukEXWf2m2/s1600-h/alhambra.jpg"></a>''Aux clochers de Jérusalem, je voudrais voir en même temps briller à l'aurore prochaine, la croix, l'étoile et le croissant<br /><br />Aux campaniles de Sardaigne, aux mosquées de l'Afghanistan, je voudrais tant un jour que règnent la croix, l'étoile et le croissant<br /><br />Le cœur des hommes est fait pour danser sur des manèges de colombes, sur des collines d'oliviers.<br />Il y a aux rives anciennes beaucoup d'amour et trop de sang. Où sont-ils donc tous ceux qui aiment la croix, l'étoile et le croissant<br /><br />Ils ont pris des sentiers de haine. Dieu sait pourquoi ils ont voulu aller jusqu'au bout de leur peine, bientôt ils ne le voudront plus<br />Le cœur des hommes est plein de dangers, il s'offre au jour mais il y pousse toute fleur que l'on a semée<br /><br />Aux clochers de Jérusalem, je voudrais voir en même temps tous ceux qui portent au fond d'eux-mêmes la croix, l'étoile et le croissant<br /><br />Et ceux qui n'ont jamais eu même de croix, d'étoile ou de croissant''<br /><br /><br />Eddy Marnayphilippehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14030285393007065545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6769562585573011286.post-51908611067532371162008-08-02T10:15:00.022+01:002008-08-18T09:33:42.553+01:00Fragrance of the Orient...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3d86b76cG36T_C6_5ERdMMv_DazXbW_cghxx8d0ywjnKCX5xZ0vAlIyrwxlmrnMln0tx7H9F36_K9b_xlYheEl_M9yEexfti40FnWtsN0wOacRMbv-WbyrgL1H-5FjefQqlMtLmO33_Cj/s1600-h/lilium+stargazer.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232192470711014722" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3d86b76cG36T_C6_5ERdMMv_DazXbW_cghxx8d0ywjnKCX5xZ0vAlIyrwxlmrnMln0tx7H9F36_K9b_xlYheEl_M9yEexfti40FnWtsN0wOacRMbv-WbyrgL1H-5FjefQqlMtLmO33_Cj/s320/lilium+stargazer.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div>Lilies and fragrance! Can you think of a plant that epitomises scent in the garden better than the lily? Personally I can only think of another one, the Daphne - but as luck would have it, they both flower at the opposite end of the calendar, and since I generally prefer to linger in the garden in July than January, I really rather enjoy my lilies more. Of course one might feel more lenient toward the winter Daphnes if one didn't live on chalk, if one had huge bushes of <em>D. bholua </em>from which one <em>dared</em> to cut armfuls to bring into the warmth of the house but this is not the case and lilies grow far better for me. </div><br /><div>Lilium is a genus that contains very many interesting plants and it would be very difficult to say which one I like the most for they are all very beautiful. Not all of them have a fragrance though and as with roses, one feels rather cheated when there is no scent to the beautiful flowers. The martagons with their clusters of nodding flowers are such example. One really would love them to have a myrrh scent, especially the dark <em>dalmaticum</em> sort or the ghostly pure white form. But alas! the only way to get a fragrance out of them is to spray away with <em>Baldessarini</em> on a regular basis<em>.</em> Very expensive and not nearly as convincing as one would hope for. No, it is much easier to cultivate them in conjuction with a few <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOd0WtVu1PO6xDcmEz1VGSERaPnTPGnNf1ku0qA-R2mxBFmExZPdsI5DsGc6B9CsS066hhepxBmRcKen_tb2E3S7ykRlTWbAyc7sdkngwd6xsYaZWEnyNVO2nNmwPKkzZwasR5AkY_3HhT/s1600-h/lilium+regale+close+up.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232182146986222322" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="208" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOd0WtVu1PO6xDcmEz1VGSERaPnTPGnNf1ku0qA-R2mxBFmExZPdsI5DsGc6B9CsS066hhepxBmRcKen_tb2E3S7ykRlTWbAyc7sdkngwd6xsYaZWEnyNVO2nNmwPKkzZwasR5AkY_3HhT/s320/lilium+regale+close+up.jpg" width="312" border="0" /></a>regal lilies. <em>Lilium regale</em> is undoubtedly the most elegant and perfumed of all lilies. Its slender stems are puncuated by very narrow leaves that give it a light ferny appearance. They always bend slightly downwards in a polite Japanese salutation as if to show they have humility when really they are quite blousy flowers! From long purple-flushed buds open large white corollas with a yellow throat and conspicuous orange anthers. Even a blind person couldn't fail to notice them for they have a heady fragrance that permeates the air with astonishing effectiveness. This lily was introduced only at the beginning of the last century by one of the last great plant explorers, Ernest Wilson. What a sensorial experience it must have been for him when he came upon a valley covered with this plant in full flower in 1903! The collection of it very nearly cost him his life when he was caught in an avalanche and had one of his legs crushed under a boulder and still, this is the plant through which he wanted to be remembered. Luckily for us, this lily is most amicable in cultivation and has now become readily available, as has it's pure white form, <em>L. regale album</em>.</div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-ANQoWosm6cmmkt1wZppN4ChXOgP3EmdjwQ5tPIPGmjW16eyVMYZeZNsRmERZzqfE5tzKKkZ0JaB629CKwrqU4i5EkvtOqBY6LTQOzt2lVm_qPbr9Mhu6yjCrPsmDbIQd2kgvuvhn-mlH/s1600-h/lilium+"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231547412191393394" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="228" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-ANQoWosm6cmmkt1wZppN4ChXOgP3EmdjwQ5tPIPGmjW16eyVMYZeZNsRmERZzqfE5tzKKkZ0JaB629CKwrqU4i5EkvtOqBY6LTQOzt2lVm_qPbr9Mhu6yjCrPsmDbIQd2kgvuvhn-mlH/s320/lilium+%27Golden+Stargazer%27+002.jpg" width="309" border="0" /></a>What prompted me to write this note about lilies is not actually the regal lily but another magnificent fragrant lily, the oriental 'Golden Stargazer' that I have flowering in pots at the moment. Oriental lilies are hybrids with open flowers derived from the two Japanese species, <em>L. speciosum</em> and <em>L. auratum. </em>Both plants are very beautiful but prone to virus and usually short lived, especially the latter.</div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232184506178360914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="306" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsK0BhA7Gvziz7OqVJWWj9aXithuRG7o-LOfxe4j1Alw2d34eHH_qgK07-PONWaPziFk-anE3fPWj5sL1n7YZufMu_Dnl4oR1wiYlHzfk52IzfpQN3c5vBVq0ymBJP_wADUu7YK5oM2HFy/s400/lilium-auratum.jpg" width="424" border="0" /> One wish it was easier for it is a lily of exceptional beauty. It has tall pliable stems from which dangle gracefully the large white and yellow flowers. 'Golden Stargazer' doesn't share its elegant habit, but has in my opinion the most beautiful flower of all the hybrids and a vigour that isn't diminished over the years. It's a bit short for my liking and I grow it in long tom pots to give it extra height but otherwise I really adore it and think it lives up to its name - not a small feat when one thinks that the original 'Stargazer' is the most cultivated lily in the world!<br /><div></div><br /><div>Oriental lilies are the easiest thing to grow in pots, being perfectly happy for several years without needing repotting. They seem to thrive on neglect and all one has to do to keep them happy is to top dress them with a handful of well rotted manure in the spring. Here, I water them when I think about it (they prefer to be on the dry side) and without fail they come into flower in August. I move them where they can be appreciated whilst they flower and when they have finished blooming I put them back in the nursery where they are almost forgotten until the following spring.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>philippehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14030285393007065545noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6769562585573011286.post-66240376006180459712008-07-24T18:58:00.008+01:002008-12-10T12:50:29.131+00:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcH_GIaoZzFF-_bUimX53ehpRtLXaq3Z10CT0i2izEbqYa3-Usvi3udw7CHAiYrFnih1H5PE2QBvn2eHTDnAeccVfmmwY4kR1zN423YWMi8NoPrZsIHD-lQd7pywcxFp53nNmA8Z1xeYrM/s1600-h/Hordeum+jubatum+backlit.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226642308897644114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcH_GIaoZzFF-_bUimX53ehpRtLXaq3Z10CT0i2izEbqYa3-Usvi3udw7CHAiYrFnih1H5PE2QBvn2eHTDnAeccVfmmwY4kR1zN423YWMi8NoPrZsIHD-lQd7pywcxFp53nNmA8Z1xeYrM/s400/Hordeum+jubatum+backlit.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"></span></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">''</span><strong>B</strong></span><span style="font-size:100%;">otte de foin, épis de grain<br />Serais-tu blé ou encore orge? </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:100%;">Barbes de soie ou de satin</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:100%;">Avoine sauvage des forges</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:100%;"></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:100%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:100%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:100%;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:100%;"><strong>S</strong>emeur à tous vents</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:100%;">Entrelacé de soleil </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:100%;">Égrettes légères du temps</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:100%;">Virtuosité sans pareil''</span></div>philippehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14030285393007065545noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6769562585573011286.post-22086985506408588012008-07-18T16:23:00.017+01:002008-12-10T12:50:30.098+00:00Larger than life; Kew's superstarKew Gardens can proud itself of having some 50 000 different live plants in its collections, reputedly the largest in the world. Many of these are diminutive and not very exciting to the untrained eye but there are also, as one might expect, many wonders of the vegetable world. I like to amaze people by showing them some of these striking plants on my guided visits and I think it is fair to say that none excites them more than the giant waterlily.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGFoG8A7GMYwWfcU7XDuYrKPCOLhN99XQpsDgY3n2ApauUJWEXKelT6jePeJeoK-ltSup8fgsg7Zw0OzRKJJ7_zXxbz5VkyLrvBldUOmGdYK4ssE82LXAH-dbLYFtvu9tXZ1_uU05HF3zd/s1600-h/kew+mix+079.jpg"></a> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224474841326206882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="329" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhdCXHoKK52F7htv9dsDZtSphD7GeXl5axiiPIqDhXsZRgL26S9iKDCVqr3AjVnOAAzFcWF3rT9ut1twUH9Md_na3sbqYEyy0MV4sgCTFHXGnNqkWRW80AdHXpwkrdapJCZdjB-Et81jtq/s400/kew+mix+079.jpg" width="432" border="0" />In a world where size is everything, Venus fly trap cannot compete with Gunneras and Redwoods, but <em>Victoria</em> certainly can and indeed there is enough here to satifsy a size Queen.<br /><div><div><div><div><div><div>The first westerner to discover the giant waterlily was the Bohemian (Czech) botanist and naturalist Tadeáš Haenke. Although this happened in 1801, it it was only in 1849 that the plant was grown successfully in Europe - by the English, at Kew (of course!), Chatsworth (Derbyshire) and Syon (across the Thames from Kew). It was in the great glasshouse of the Duke of Devonshire at Chatsworth that the first flower opened and was presented to Queen Victoria, whose name it comemorates. No doubt that made the gardeners at Kew green with envy, but the record does not tell us anything about that. All we know is that theirs flowered a year later. Strong of the first successes, many people of the European Elite built glasshouses to accomodate the beast in their collection and here at Kew the waterlily house was put up in 1852. Having this small glasshouse meant that the exacting growth requirements of the waterlily were met and that it its ebullient foliage was displayed beautifully, as it is still today. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225039562999964098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="324" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcxmVEYZ4WV5nRTeR38wwA1WHWLLyEb2oL3zbHxl-5Hd_1VGmekRvdW4w3YAYV9baSVTDQWCi11OJXGan1PpepLxlf6ZOOVUabDxTCZWyy37RD_-aEI71s5G4BTTfukkzlrFwTyWSd2paj/s400/kew+mix+083.jpg" width="422" border="0" />Hailing as it does from the hot tropics, <em>Victoria</em> needs warm water and hot temperatures to grow well and to walk in there on a sunny day is a stiffling experience, with all this humidity in the air!</div><div>The most amazing fact about the Victoria at Kew is that it is grown from a seed every year. In the wild, the plant is perennial, but it does not take very kindly to the British winters and is more difficult to keep going than to grow from seed every year. The seed is sown in January, is put in the pond in April and almost at once starts growing at a phenomenal rate. By August its leaves are about 5 feet (150cm) in diameter and the plant fills most of the pond. Only one plant is put in and even if it is pretty impressive, it would pale next to one of the record breaking plants of 'La Rinconada' in Santa Cruz, Bolivia - but then they do have the advantage of the perfect climate! <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225506871725770370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="305" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJKI1zAvRXSulGfkL-VVBtK9DKNZiVNRuUjnLe_LW6NvrgubZ4dmoiT4zzrz-yrfiJcWG9QT2J5K9zWOo6LVZRdyCfAEcwtOtAPW8V1APhCWCxZLyLw6qrRhiNM3kWI95bGShsZXvedL4M/s400/victoria+record.jpg" width="402" border="0" />After seeing this, no one would doubt that, although the night-blooming flowers of the giant waterlily are beautiful, looking somewhat like a large peony or double camellia, it is the leaf of <em>Victoria </em>that really capture the imagination. It is a construction of great ingenuity, having a netting of veins that give it tremendous strenght. As the leaf unfurls, it traps air underneath and a mature leaf can withstand a charge of 45 Kg or so if well distributed on the surface. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224474239103079410" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="218" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYN8Lhafh9MxyNUPNQvQY2fS5XTe9wLWKlm18L6FT1CqR-x15QhIFphiaWGs0PNR_515UYghqHREOYe_OulvdwCWCwBOiCkdwYRXGq8if6j3Tnb2upDHfqqzpD3zNN2_TWpM3QqUFF-5Iv/s320/kew+mix+086.jpg" width="296" border="0" />Also it has a slit on one side that allows the rain water to escape and is covered with spines on the undersides to deter fish and other aquatic life from damaging it. </div><div>There are two species of <em>Victoria</em>, <em>V. amazonica </em>et <em>V. cruziana</em>. The first has the largest pads but the upturned edge of the leaf is narrower. It also needs hotter conditions to grow well and so at Kew <em>V. cruziana </em>is the one usually grown <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu7a2NlC1J-EPXHStc4QPmG-MOE73eLpiyVHbkjK8sqEheLukiyH76nJUc9RzzR5MEf-VpmWBldqTdEyRam86B0_mp8sClcOraqjfmBtMTEXikumyEhPfc6v0R1sygFIp7RkS3WzqIETMD/s1600-h/kew+mix+082.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224473970116776530" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="213" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu7a2NlC1J-EPXHStc4QPmG-MOE73eLpiyVHbkjK8sqEheLukiyH76nJUc9RzzR5MEf-VpmWBldqTdEyRam86B0_mp8sClcOraqjfmBtMTEXikumyEhPfc6v0R1sygFIp7RkS3WzqIETMD/s320/kew+mix+082.jpg" width="293" border="0" /></a>as it does better and looks more dramatic. Some years a vigorous hybrid of the two species, 'Longwood Hybrid', is also grown. </div></div></div></div></div></div>philippehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14030285393007065545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6769562585573011286.post-77376646333334497362008-07-12T20:28:00.015+01:002008-12-10T12:50:30.764+00:00A thug for your garden anyone?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHYPls8ufdZaOQ642yTX8DVsELtxhSAuOZq4SUcfrVBScg7Hgn4bGrR7QlTnraALGNARTrwKrIdWe2GFEA0EVEiDgDUDIucwUyANZ9505hJhsywzfMVhQeG4p8zX00740sfjyEv4wvjdZz/s1600-h/Epilobium+angustifolium+close-up.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222225002606040850" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHYPls8ufdZaOQ642yTX8DVsELtxhSAuOZq4SUcfrVBScg7Hgn4bGrR7QlTnraALGNARTrwKrIdWe2GFEA0EVEiDgDUDIucwUyANZ9505hJhsywzfMVhQeG4p8zX00740sfjyEv4wvjdZz/s320/Epilobium+angustifolium+close-up.jpg" border="0" /></a>It's officially summer! I know so because the Rosebay willow herb is flowering. Well, you know sometimes here in England it’s difficult to gauge when spring gives way to summer. Especially in a cool and wet year as we are having now. Of course, the calendar is a useful tool for that kind of thing, but as I tend to live a rather pedestrian life, nature often guides my way a little. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5GlMdkfJpNx8G0zpRY_9FqF1OeXll4dtjDH69Ec1jEWfe7MSxUPHUimXF4OAAaz6KZwSvgtk7KK3ABqGRLB3jmF0h7Zo2XZJzQpCUwUP-H7YI_5RipxDk2VqMo3s3aNOKWrmlAcbBTqK3/s1600-h/Epilobium+angustifolium+close-up.jpg"></a>I cannot think of a weed that could epitomize summer better for me. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222212901349884626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="282" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Utk-6dMzEfkZTFKJCiFmTMQc1G7EmJZWNXLD6_m3S384BxE6ziXssvQyCZDbsHWBCqHwuXrrSke55eUT6l5YE62IE4E8av-gy7wbl7ScIFOWF1vOKYfsR0Oud0-Wd-XLlKoWTJC1XJxW/s400/Epilobium+angustifolia+g%C3%A9n%C3%A9ral.jpg" width="430" border="0" />Where I come from in Canada, Épilobe or Fireweed as it is known there, is a ubiquitous native - it grows everywhere that has been tampered by man (or fire, hence the name) - and as a teenager I awaited the brightening of the roadsides and woodland edges with its bright magenta flowers with great anticipation. Strangely I remember them a more vivid shade than I see them here now, but that could be because there they were often found growing amongst the dull pink corymbs of Eupatorium purpureum. In any case, whatever the intensity of the colour, it still lifts my spirits up to see them growing abundantly on the road to town at the moment.<br /><div><div><br /><div>It is good that <em>Chamaenerion angustifolium </em>(previously <em>Epilobium angustifolium</em>) grows wild here as in my native Canada, it saves me having to grow it in the garden, but the one I do grow here is the white form, simply called ‘Album’<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAyB_4VWkMY4qOS7QhIH5wHWWYLVEjHywkXPof4axywtOgdD6nZfl1Q8BJFcv2tEP7ogkhG3lzkpgVMVOBnPFbz9IkkGD7uDzDFuogZ8fyWk2X939pOF2VZBq-8JToD4Vxzza_RioSlf4A/s1600-h/epilobium+white2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222224723886916162" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAyB_4VWkMY4qOS7QhIH5wHWWYLVEjHywkXPof4axywtOgdD6nZfl1Q8BJFcv2tEP7ogkhG3lzkpgVMVOBnPFbz9IkkGD7uDzDFuogZ8fyWk2X939pOF2VZBq-8JToD4Vxzza_RioSlf4A/s320/epilobium+white2.jpg" border="0" /></a>. It is less vigorous than the type and has very pale green leaves, two things which lead me to think it might be an albino. This said, it still isn't the best behaved of plants, spreading about the garden in an insidious way. I just about tolerate it in the white border because it is easy enough to pull out, but I have to keep an eye at it regularly! Sometimes I wish it grew more thickly, but it has always refused to do so with me. I try pushing the spade through the clump to sever the roots and encourage more stems, but I can never manage to have it as a solid mass as does Mr. Francis Cabot in his garden ‘Les Quatre Vents’, La Malbaie, Québec. There I saw it thick as a wild stand, looking wonderfully ghostly on a moonlit evening. A sight I shall never forget.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCoLAdaOvakV-9Ck95DWMioTyNUNFIiNu_Xw9yV_B4ydLXngZm9MLNzdvusdeeKPhRPFG61mUrvqMEOfHjmd2I7O605xfJWNBWnOrEnYvRxIXI_Kkftq0EoJfDZQQCMWx5ivx6QPIIREu4/s1600-h/phoenix+049.jpg"></a>I had often read in nursery catalogues of another cultivar of this great weed, ‘Stahl Rose’ but it was only this year that I had the pleasure to see it. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ02rxJc-VFlxdJ8DsRCUdJ6_128kJajocVHHloTDyf_qFVtpK9U-BWErjS_2CReuxL9dixB00E3xrd4J69q5glnYzFb-0tPebWIX5fsQnoNadELrCvvf-CbuIpQUKwXRYZdbVzY-pU3oU/s1600-h/west+dean+100.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222225743626901154" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ02rxJc-VFlxdJ8DsRCUdJ6_128kJajocVHHloTDyf_qFVtpK9U-BWErjS_2CReuxL9dixB00E3xrd4J69q5glnYzFb-0tPebWIX5fsQnoNadELrCvvf-CbuIpQUKwXRYZdbVzY-pU3oU/s320/west+dean+100.jpg" border="0" /></a>I was a bit suspect at the idea of a pink selection, but what a lovely thing it turns out to be! I visited Phoenix Perennials a couple of days ago and it immediately caught my eye from a distance.It has petals of the most delightful shade of pale pink and deep red stems, a most successful combination. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmHcVr_X_p0dwVyDQ9DGgQy3R2ITdFKycjPe_1zcnKLKCra1moNaNOqAKWBIqph5hl57eM21IXcvhWScYaTr_18L7DTw8uHNdr9rLaqEL2T8uaOJjtY8zDGFPONSS2CiecDIw6yyQOn8b9/s1600-h/west+dean+101.jpg"></a>The fact that it had come out of its pot and was growing up other plants' pots gave me a clue as to its equally invasive nature (apparently it runs more than the white one) and so I refrained from buying a plant – for now at least!</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div>philippehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14030285393007065545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6769562585573011286.post-92130353200104843512008-07-11T23:47:00.009+01:002008-12-10T12:50:31.458+00:00Parsley crested amphibian<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjByrzMkq6QkKxHk2OMP9Ph4IE406K73HT39L6JIjBLXTqqsLnJpm75x22Tz6njetktsueyinmGVUwXD2RDbSCIrR7U9XDM2dH0EbLp_jhyphenhyphenVcGxhLTo0KSTB3rpTcdH2sobBSZM4rrvfSrU/s1600-h/toad2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221903236512237970" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjByrzMkq6QkKxHk2OMP9Ph4IE406K73HT39L6JIjBLXTqqsLnJpm75x22Tz6njetktsueyinmGVUwXD2RDbSCIrR7U9XDM2dH0EbLp_jhyphenhyphenVcGxhLTo0KSTB3rpTcdH2sobBSZM4rrvfSrU/s320/toad2.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div>He, who is fortunate enough to receive the visit of a toad in the garden, is blessed with an invaluable companion. I always rejoice in seeing them near me, though these adorable little creatures tend to wander about much, leaving the boundaries of my garden, exploring <em>ça et là</em> the countryside. It was therefore a stroke of luck when one of them found my garden pleasant enough to stay. He came last year and we have learned to tame each other since.<br /><div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXiKSgWtWWhqtB6MnJSSzEuXqmoSZ8Zbt5rr19DChi6LXj5FfdmGxA7-fYSy8qmbzBPuZ0dn8w251yri2eGYfRaxXPp4-kWyOhfnXKftVbQ9CuNCQbc91ha_1w6RfZ44XKsBgDHM3fV5a-/s1600-h/farfugium+017.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221895976526128082" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 307px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px" height="223" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXiKSgWtWWhqtB6MnJSSzEuXqmoSZ8Zbt5rr19DChi6LXj5FfdmGxA7-fYSy8qmbzBPuZ0dn8w251yri2eGYfRaxXPp4-kWyOhfnXKftVbQ9CuNCQbc91ha_1w6RfZ44XKsBgDHM3fV5a-/s320/farfugium+017.jpg" width="297" border="0" /></a>His name is Farfugium japonicum ‘Cristatum’. He comes from Japan and is a bit tender so I keep him in a pot that I can bring in the cool glasshouse in the winter months. I used to grow it in the ground in my garden in London and it survived well, but the frost inevitably damaged its leaves which took rather a long time to grow back in the spring. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjItTEqU2xWGPNIBIU9-mx_wj9wkoAYZy5cdwuwgJnw5HtmBbraSfu9UvCgQcrpnv6lUOkFeqF77Wd-wzcLe_2hDEvn7vKOo84hr68M4MrrEg8HayTSc1eL59GoTbCLNCwQYfLrF9XxzaU7/s1600-h/farfugium+020.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221896115418244786" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 275px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 197px" height="219" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjItTEqU2xWGPNIBIU9-mx_wj9wkoAYZy5cdwuwgJnw5HtmBbraSfu9UvCgQcrpnv6lUOkFeqF77Wd-wzcLe_2hDEvn7vKOo84hr68M4MrrEg8HayTSc1eL59GoTbCLNCwQYfLrF9XxzaU7/s320/farfugium+020.jpg" width="297" border="0" /></a>Now that I pamper it a little, it is always lush in leaf. It is a very easy friend to accommodate, I put him on the northeast side of my house where it gets the morning sunshine but escapes the afternoon glare and he seems to like it there. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNEWg1LsPVgysr2uevVQyjE4TBHcy5IfuX84UCx1Ku957G84Uo9jbEXvnf3vcH3LJQ7v98B_FljSy76ogRVeTMV0-vOjz6RYDKqpa6DPO1w8WUcmHjwt0_xzR-DcDyXeOYuen_TW11pDJg/s1600-h/Farfugium+"></a>I make sure it gets a regular dose of water since, like all amphibians, it doesn't like to dry out completely. I feed him with seaweed extract from time to time but otherwise I leave it in peace and it rewards me by growing its large pinky grey crested leaves all year round. </div><div>I suspect my Farfugium has eaten far fewer slugs than its bouncy comrades (and spawned fewer eggs in the pond!) but he's different and that's why I love him so much.</div></div></div></div>philippehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14030285393007065545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6769562585573011286.post-10921072311421225132008-07-09T17:32:00.021+01:002008-12-10T12:50:32.600+00:00Prairie aristocrats please!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0U7voz-WhVD5VECE2H9sEFd4ZR_2eXCqZigFMhEeJrReEkDQ49hFgERXrY20L9pwM1vwx1XWwOs23Ki_GBtEA_qwnzVeXH-hO0O_fJUNAFH9qbWlDbw9J-ABiciql95aIFOzGXPqrk_2h/s1600-h/Baptisia%20%20Purple%20Smoke.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221144525534705698" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0U7voz-WhVD5VECE2H9sEFd4ZR_2eXCqZigFMhEeJrReEkDQ49hFgERXrY20L9pwM1vwx1XWwOs23Ki_GBtEA_qwnzVeXH-hO0O_fJUNAFH9qbWlDbw9J-ABiciql95aIFOzGXPqrk_2h/s320/Baptisia%2520%2520Purple%2520Smoke.jpg" border="0" /></a> Today I would like to come to the rescue of one of my best friends of perennial plants, Baptisia. People have been calling it names - and not nice ones. It used to be false lupine, or wild indigo, which is just about acceptable but what, now people in America are calling it redneck- or even worse bastard- lupine! There is nothing illegitimate, spurious or inferior about Baptisia. Quite the contrary! It is the noblest perennial plant one could wish to grow. What is so difficult about Baptisia? It sounds perfectly simple and lovely to me. Oh! - it is only striking me now that you might not have even heard these unpleasant names at all and that I am creating the wrong sort of propaganda by introducing them to you. Please forgive me for this and allow me to praise this wonderful plant to you.<br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><p align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXeYFI91B4Qfh5-3PQfYzA_P3ZxkxZmy5ivYQpzpjZS4YfoXF2x89m6gcXevLNesuPfVYLTeCqFz-3N7bOPXuQaVJ-W591oEyvkiZR1vCX-vx_H2SFOoSuVymqR9UydfhquQyc8G9FE4Iq/s1600-h/baptisia+minor.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221143549894149378" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXeYFI91B4Qfh5-3PQfYzA_P3ZxkxZmy5ivYQpzpjZS4YfoXF2x89m6gcXevLNesuPfVYLTeCqFz-3N7bOPXuQaVJ-W591oEyvkiZR1vCX-vx_H2SFOoSuVymqR9UydfhquQyc8G9FE4Iq/s400/baptisia+minor.jpg" border="0" /></a>Why I love Baptisia so much is very simple; it is a beautiful, easy, carefree and long lived plant. Now, if you are the type of gardener who likes his flowers bigger, heavier and fuller than everybody else’s, I fear I am going to have to let you go, since Baptisia will make no impression on you whatever. It is a prairie plant that has been hybridized very little and so it looks rather sparse next to a Russell or Westcountry lupine (in the same way that a pretty wild Dahlia looks demure next to a silly giant dinner plate one) but what Baptisia lacks in quantity it gains it in quality. The flower spikes are most elegant and the individual petals positively glow with vibrance like fine silk velvet. The foliage is nice and sturdy and remains attractive the entire season, long after the plain lupines have been attacked by black flies and collapsed in a heap of mess.<br />It is a plant that takes its time and will not reward the impatient gardener however. One usually has to wait three years for a cutting or a seedling to give its first flower and another two years for it to show off nicely but like a peony or a hosta it will increase in size and beauty every year, will not need division or cosseting and will most likely outlive you, being so trouble-free.<br />The most common Baptisia in cultivation is B. australis and deservedly so. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-GH9Ba9BZNCbO83LDkd8cwn5aDckaQrEv-wGif_GOoRYHtExBc2IW_RcvpHIwbH7bx8hm28KdLELkUOmxgwji0crGykIjk7gC77i0WNXRdixHMZv6edVW35oSkWf0oAdIVV3WLUAd3Iwx/s1600-h/Baptisia+australis+spike.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221146578923275538" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-GH9Ba9BZNCbO83LDkd8cwn5aDckaQrEv-wGif_GOoRYHtExBc2IW_RcvpHIwbH7bx8hm28KdLELkUOmxgwji0crGykIjk7gC77i0WNXRdixHMZv6edVW35oSkWf0oAdIVV3WLUAd3Iwx/s320/Baptisia+australis+spike.jpg" border="0" /></a>It has lovely deep blue flowers in late spring followed by nice slate grey seed capsules that look like inflated pea pods. Then there is a paler blue one, B. minor, a tall white one with grey stems, B. alba macrophylla, a bright yellow one with particularly slender stalks that I adore, B. sphaerocarpa, and a rather different one with arching stems and lovely primrose yellow flowers, B. leucophaea. All of them make wonderful cut foliage, flowers and seedpods.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-HOIUWdV6OpOkeHw8JkV0dANIh0zTcuVW3ZNg7MJ6DOTwkMW5YKzPTjmY9vyTiX0C2at-B9uKbK2wHqQ9E7t6uZZ-bsnPWNGDh_1mDfBWZTMYeGrXIcW6kvnQgmUyFhoBdzaUa3q0yRJ6/s1600-h/Baptisia+australis+seed+pod+++foliage.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221053427499877698" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-HOIUWdV6OpOkeHw8JkV0dANIh0zTcuVW3ZNg7MJ6DOTwkMW5YKzPTjmY9vyTiX0C2at-B9uKbK2wHqQ9E7t6uZZ-bsnPWNGDh_1mDfBWZTMYeGrXIcW6kvnQgmUyFhoBdzaUa3q0yRJ6/s320/Baptisia+australis+seed+pod+%2B+foliage.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />It is an interesting fact that until recently plants from North America were more cultivated and improved on the European side of the Atlantic. We English have dramatically improved New England and New York Asters, whilst Germans and more recently Dutch gardeners worked on Joe Pye Weed (Eupatorium) Veronicastrums and perennial sunflowers (Helianthus). With Baptisias however, it is a different story and for once hybrids come from their homeland. There aren’t many of them yet but the ones available are outstanding. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh0cJYVwWNLzeduZfRhSskffdMU-qYCJsKD4WnBJCT7FzMLrwVTcbDdTKWMiTbX3PvesB_R2ty7lUKzLNYC8BcrVNIGPIoPIAmr65NjTjpmac8TwrkaKCZGW6n-MBD_VnHe_D5aH1K8oVm/s1600-h/Baptisia%20Purple%20Smoke2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221151300357542626" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh0cJYVwWNLzeduZfRhSskffdMU-qYCJsKD4WnBJCT7FzMLrwVTcbDdTKWMiTbX3PvesB_R2ty7lUKzLNYC8BcrVNIGPIoPIAmr65NjTjpmac8TwrkaKCZGW6n-MBD_VnHe_D5aH1K8oVm/s320/Baptisia%2520Purple%2520Smoke2.jpg" border="0" /></a>From North Carolina Botanical Gardens comes the nicest of all called ‘Purple Smoke’ with pale mauve flowers above grey-blue foliage (right and top of page) and also the excellent ‘Carolina Moonlight’ with primrose yellow flowers on a vigorous plant. More recently, Chicago Botanical Gardens gave us two new ones: ‘Twilite Prairieblues’ with purple-brown and yellow flowers (an unlikely combination that works well, even if the flowers hide somewhat in the bluish foliage)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmRqtUgDUue9auiF420VywchW9mRy4vrzzzP9HhFaQG0bA9RzAA19jbN3mkKgf69qRIyQcLo8HduTNj9RMxmP9pF1WySyrYwVHrAzusmlYTfaN-DNcJ4g9uEc3gyXRkO2phS2raFp5KHKK/s1600-h/BaptisiaTwilightPrairieBlues.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221140151031350306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmRqtUgDUue9auiF420VywchW9mRy4vrzzzP9HhFaQG0bA9RzAA19jbN3mkKgf69qRIyQcLo8HduTNj9RMxmP9pF1WySyrYwVHrAzusmlYTfaN-DNcJ4g9uEc3gyXRkO2phS2raFp5KHKK/s320/BaptisiaTwilightPrairieBlues.jpg" border="0" /></a> and ‘Starlite Prairieblues’ with gentle pale blue suffused flowers.<br />How does one acquire any of these beauties then? Apart from Baptisia australis, few nurseries in the United Kingdom sell any of them. The best way to get species is to procure some seeds from the United States, Germany or seed exchanges and sow them in the autumn in pots that will be left out of doors to the vagaries of the weather, which will help lift their dormancy. Be careful that the mice don’t get at them! They germinate readily in the spring and grow steadily, if slowly at first. The plants can be put in the garden when still quite small without trouble, but I personally wait a season before tempting fate. Slugs do like them in their tender age.<br />Most books will tell you that Baptisia resent disturbance and cannot be divided but from experience I know that they it can be done successfully, although I am not saying it is an easy thing to do! The digging is quite an operation as the plant grows huge forked roots that seem to descend all the way to Hades and it is all too easy to severe most of the viable parts off in the process. One also finds that there are actually few pieces to work with as most of the eyes congregate in a tight cluster (as with a peony or Gypsophila). <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR6lDyRHIMvKBqtWPbfkJYnSpvgfqyhPyeol-WCyy4aDddmrT5bIeEk98eje47TwraPiMsgB1usyrExOcnkpPj9z5mTWWbuj8hNRp9TOPM6d6LMsg8adws5Eij99EgDfFoJ2MghxMtgvJi/s1600-h/baptisia+alba.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221363251562767762" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR6lDyRHIMvKBqtWPbfkJYnSpvgfqyhPyeol-WCyy4aDddmrT5bIeEk98eje47TwraPiMsgB1usyrExOcnkpPj9z5mTWWbuj8hNRp9TOPM6d6LMsg8adws5Eij99EgDfFoJ2MghxMtgvJi/s320/baptisia+alba.jpg" border="0" /></a>Any section with eyes and a bit of root will bounce back once replanted however and start blooming again after two seasons’ growth. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg84ek6-145P02mke4EN2p8nMDaAIbsiX0iR-t7wYAUO-ThUPZwHyXT9gLz4dbAyUZOeMrhzAZnEDcKfGoAftIEhjHB2hxNn4cygVvqms9NagBAvfjRQZYgGwMEzinRsGn0QSGLOSF0IKpt/s1600-h/baptisia+alba.jpg"></a>I have divided all of the hybrids for exporting, root washed them, and they grew back quite well once replanted. This said, by far the easiest way to multiply the cultivars is by taking cuttings. They root easily if taken early in the season. They don’t always form dormant growth for the following spring though and so it is best to plant more than one needs just in case.<br /></p><br /><p align="left">No excuse to have sickly lupines in your borders now, dig them up and plant Baptisia instead, I dare you to!</p></div></div></div></div></div></div>philippehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14030285393007065545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6769562585573011286.post-38565565761558101902008-07-08T00:24:00.005+01:002008-12-10T12:50:32.763+00:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoHnCbKP8leYTrwJEs44bfZME7N4RTYCNpEcPlQ7_hxlVk-4u6goEOaFHxMUq31P4n1m5Fjtf2zcYoHRUXARkVtMJRDumF1W4E4eIUn-ij4GQ55uT1x3I33Y965IiIucLRGErM2DtLjKod/s1600-h/winter_garden_at_st_petersbur_hi.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220419954077447026" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="206" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoHnCbKP8leYTrwJEs44bfZME7N4RTYCNpEcPlQ7_hxlVk-4u6goEOaFHxMUq31P4n1m5Fjtf2zcYoHRUXARkVtMJRDumF1W4E4eIUn-ij4GQ55uT1x3I33Y965IiIucLRGErM2DtLjKod/s320/winter_garden_at_st_petersbur_hi.jpg" width="298" border="0" /></a>''Je voudrais du soleil vert, des dentelles et des théières, des photos de bord de mer dans mon jardin d'hiver.<br />Je voudrais de la lumière comme en Nouvelle Angleterre, je veux changer d'atmosphère dans mon jardin d'hiver.<br /><div>Ta robe à fleur sous la pluie de novembre, mes mains qui courent, je n'en peux plus de l'attendre. Les années passent, qu'il est loin l'âge tendre; nul ne peut nous entendre.<br />Je voudrais du Fred Astaire, revoir un Latécoère, je voudrais toujours te plaire dans mon jardin d'hiver.<br />Je veux déjeuner par terre comme au long des golfes clairs, t'embrasser les yeux ouverts dans mon jardin d'hiver.<br />Ta robe à fleur sous la pluie de novembre, mes mains qui courent, je n'en peux plus de l'attendre. Les années passent, qu'il est loin l'âge tendre; nul ne peut nous entendre''</div><div><strong>Henri Salvadore</strong></div>philippehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14030285393007065545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6769562585573011286.post-9726729739257340522008-07-05T14:49:00.036+01:002008-12-10T12:50:33.704+00:00Astonishing AsclepiadsI have quite a fond affection for succulents. They are varied, colourful, architectural, undemanding, easy to propagate and, unlike cacti (which I also quite like), defenceless and easy to handle. I only have a few of them but share my enthusiasm with my neighbour, Paul, who has a much larger selection. He came to tell me that one of his prized specimen was in flower this morning, and I jumped on the opportunity to share it with my little world because I think it is quite a sight! It is called Stapelia gettliffei.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEKbY54FWNucaBwUgF5-2YbFz2mNblAMiW8xIQA8VS0DyZC_XJYu3ei_AQnkeSfqJFUvicYuiDsp8bjHY6nn4Fp6A1PTO4VFrRuUFVXBWAyCBE5Hdu38o0DRWjbDEW_Qf2MJ6gvrOvaeIZ/s1600-h/stapelia+004.jpg"></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJnrVIXREkECCDhDbu3b-NNMERyrNfawnl1_FIsvpJpiXD4n04kjBSFQ4blSOa3NYEb0Ly8nwmytZ6TAic9eQmUvCFAT_631lj3mcL2IDSUQ6Of1RHx6aKN-j9Bw72zhH-2tmpOI8eFPX1/s1600-h/stapelia+001.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219909566132101650" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 255px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 188px" height="203" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJnrVIXREkECCDhDbu3b-NNMERyrNfawnl1_FIsvpJpiXD4n04kjBSFQ4blSOa3NYEb0Ly8nwmytZ6TAic9eQmUvCFAT_631lj3mcL2IDSUQ6Of1RHx6aKN-j9Bw72zhH-2tmpOI8eFPX1/s320/stapelia+001.jpg" width="271" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfwsNXbIdvRMJ6oltU7Z7roZV4K1zOVNgopC5D7q3lcUTh-NIU_qjGNLuOtGXgbkoRInxVCInOh9Vvmel0sG4DFyLgyyJ496-I9OaXn2svOMldc0YEVmtXXqy6OTmlkTyrhC7mVlLezSpL/s1600-h/stapelia+002.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219909753135968290" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 268px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 184px" height="205" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfwsNXbIdvRMJ6oltU7Z7roZV4K1zOVNgopC5D7q3lcUTh-NIU_qjGNLuOtGXgbkoRInxVCInOh9Vvmel0sG4DFyLgyyJ496-I9OaXn2svOMldc0YEVmtXXqy6OTmlkTyrhC7mVlLezSpL/s320/stapelia+002.jpg" width="288" border="0" /></a>Stapelias are interesting plants that belong to the Asclepiadaceae family and if they don't look remotely like asclepiads, their long pointy seed pods and flat brown seed attached to silky hairs are a giveaway. Asclepiads are generally quite amazing and I have yet to find a plant in the family that isn't interesting. A lot of them have deliciously fragrant flowers and my most favourite is the gorgeous Dregea sinensis.<br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220024042920232994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="316" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX2FkVVbRxiPTSYV1um_MWsiekQk4xCASGv93gJuoeYs32o6LzFZAmlL1Mzx_Vh0xD3PFXOq-Re4KSRuk4l45IjgKA-iyTEvhR_c_jCr4GOSkkr6gov6DQKWWQH81n2Y8X_sNvrCFhpfts/s400/asclepias+001.jpg" width="417" border="0" />A climber of delicate complexion, it shares the beauty and scent of Hoya, but it is deciduous and therefore hardier, an undeniable advantage for us dwellers of the temperate regions. I longed for it for a while and have at last secured a plant in the spring. It is only a small thing still, but it already delights me with its intoxicating flowers. I bought the variegated form, a plant which would make a snobbish gardener turn up his nose, but which I quite adore, each leaf having a different pattern. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYaeMAQPkwazxkdmrj0-aEtzcjmQ-RRYXock9_9j-Rq65xGUpJf2cmO7c2buuVU6dWR2qw7lHfKybwBYmMjeha-yUPvmKCTuZnUmF36PDUBhBR_wuWD_bOdYcerswUGFgFy4bD0055rhW9/s1600-h/asclepias+005.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220023596065961410" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 208px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 282px" height="296" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYaeMAQPkwazxkdmrj0-aEtzcjmQ-RRYXock9_9j-Rq65xGUpJf2cmO7c2buuVU6dWR2qw7lHfKybwBYmMjeha-yUPvmKCTuZnUmF36PDUBhBR_wuWD_bOdYcerswUGFgFy4bD0055rhW9/s320/asclepias+005.jpg" width="215" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKJm1x93LPB9lMQVJgvRGpANRKVYeqh_7Jjpke8CTGwxv_MlIi3g4gWhpyiteePTfgC0apCITBb7zi5nghBLYLLZGLVdprz79R4RfUpojl4Udh7ZJ5puRjzFjGMOPl-If2y0InrmyKIT-i/s1600-h/asclepias+004.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220023314410167906" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 196px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 280px" height="295" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKJm1x93LPB9lMQVJgvRGpANRKVYeqh_7Jjpke8CTGwxv_MlIi3g4gWhpyiteePTfgC0apCITBb7zi5nghBLYLLZGLVdprz79R4RfUpojl4Udh7ZJ5puRjzFjGMOPl-If2y0InrmyKIT-i/s320/asclepias+004.jpg" width="214" border="0" /></a>I do admit that the flowers might set themselves off better on plain dark green foliage, but I think it's better value to have the ornemental foliage as well. </p><p>This plant used to be called Wattakaka, which I think is a brilliant name, but obviously it was just too much for some stoic botanist who managed to have the name changed to dull Dregea.<br /></p>There are so many other Asclepiads that I should like to mention and indeed I can feel a piece on hardy ones coming up soon but for the time being I am going to finish with the photo of a herb from South Africa that was introduced to me by a friend, Ellen, who grew it in her nursery on Lake Ontario, New York State. She gave me a plant but it didn't survive the transit to England and I hope I can try it again in the near future for it is definitely something exciting, even in the name. It's called Xysmalobium undulatum. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220020990991026530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT3CwwrDzog9e-GdGp2AqiKha_mwqEWgWsvqR2Silvmf-vE4OdwgcwKe2LJ093X669azXzWctv1EJaCyyWhazk6L2RG47TcJYEm8J8nY9OvMCcmXg1PH6Amcv7FBJ7cb9BpWqXcbfCL3oI/s400/Xysmalobium_undulatum1.jpg" border="0" />philippehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14030285393007065545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6769562585573011286.post-84717522395254477432008-07-04T21:40:00.009+01:002008-07-05T12:29:40.558+01:00<strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;">''My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun<br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;">Coral is far more red than her lips red</span></em></strong><br /><div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong><em>If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun</em></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong><em>If hair be wires black wires grow on her head</em></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong><em>I have seen roses Damask, Red and White</em></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong><em>But no such roses see I in her cheeks</em></strong></span></div><div><strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;">And in some perfume is there more delight</span></em></strong></div><div><strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks</span></em></strong></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong><em>I love to hear her speak yet well I know</em></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong><em>That music hath a far more pleasing sound</em></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong><em>I grant I never saw a Godess go<br />My mistress when she walks treads on the ground</em></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong><em>Yet by heaven I think my love as rare</em></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong><em>As any she belied in false compare''</em></strong></span></div></div>philippehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14030285393007065545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6769562585573011286.post-67895105032319267562008-07-04T16:59:00.011+01:002008-12-10T12:50:33.891+00:00Pigmented daisies for summer joySummer is here and the borders are heaving with colours that tickle my senses and make me want to dance like a school girl! Of all the garden plants in flower at the moment, none lift my heart and satisfy my greed for bright tones more than the Achillea millefolium. It is a queer sort of plant, and not the easiest to keep alive over the winter outside here in balmy wet England (it is impervious to cold but despises the British rain of January) but those cloched or brought indoors and put back out in April are repaying the little attention I gave them with a myriad of flowers arranged in flat domes over ferny dark green foliage. It isn't an obvious fact that they are in the same family as the asters and daisies, but if one looks close enough it becomes pretty apparent, each individual flower having its typical ray of petals around a conspicuous centre.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219258171467848898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="334" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDYhk6EhxtkXrys-MuSJmAByUbdJVlrELVN9Pn8sDunMnTn4Mdl_reZ7qaufFJsDbB8QhmqigF1qT7MLBdDmj6gUg23juHe3u7V7vrSHvJo2CUHU_rKRqo9hKGHDeIxQEEPs-swKStMjvh/s400/achillea+005.jpg" width="424" border="0" />I tried some new colours this year and so far I am pretty impressed with the vigour and shade of 'Rose Madder'. I am already faithful to the pale yellow 'Hella Glashoff' as I am to the wonderful 'Lachsschönheit' (which is German for 'Salmon Beauty') and I need to rekindle my friendship with burned orange 'Walter Funcke', which I used to grow and thought wonderful amongst silver leaves of Artemisia and plumes of grasses.<br /><div><div><div><div>The only downfall of Achillea millefolium for me is its slightly stale odour. It makes great bouquets, but must be kept away from finely powdered noses!</div></div></div></div>philippehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14030285393007065545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6769562585573011286.post-16648915252997202152008-07-02T20:21:00.017+01:002008-12-10T12:50:34.315+00:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtEByRX7CNGFZtcPQeMfqt929wSj_1dBufy_NlQvPZwYK4BriqQwQ8BDTmX-sAFPDgZoqoieag508y8R_7k9CQOzwPfdzgNF1wWCogs5aEGdPjFKQGZrxRSJMGV0uei7CrDziKoKVsP5Z2/s1600-h/Nebrodi.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218507076026514818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="289" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtEByRX7CNGFZtcPQeMfqt929wSj_1dBufy_NlQvPZwYK4BriqQwQ8BDTmX-sAFPDgZoqoieag508y8R_7k9CQOzwPfdzgNF1wWCogs5aEGdPjFKQGZrxRSJMGV0uei7CrDziKoKVsP5Z2/s400/Nebrodi.jpg" width="424" border="0" /></a>''Ti invito al viaggio in quel paese che ti somiglia tanto<br /><div><div><div>I soli languidi dei suoi cieli annebbiati hanno per il mio spirito l'incanto dei tuoi occhi quando brillano offuscati</div><div>Laggiù tutto é ordine e bellezza, calma e voluttà</div><div>Il mondo s'addormenta in una calda luce di giacinto e d'oro</div><div>Dormono pigramente i vascelli vagabondi arrivati da ogni confine per soddisfare i tuoi desideri''</div><div><strong>Manlio Scalambro</strong></div><div><span style="font-size:78%;">_________________________________________</span></div><div></div><div></div><div><em><span style="font-size:85%;">''I invite you on a journey in the country that resembles you so</span></em></div><div><em><span style="font-size:85%;">The lonely langors of its clouded skys have for my spirit the enchantment of your darkened eyes when they sparkle</span></em></div><div><em><span style="font-size:85%;">There, everything is ordered, beautiful, calm and sensuous</span></em></div><div><em><span style="font-size:85%;">The world is clothed in a warm light of hyacinth and gold</span></em></div><div><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Sleep lazyly the wandering vessels, arrived from every frontiers to satisfy your desires''</span></em> </div></div></div>philippehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14030285393007065545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6769562585573011286.post-57025383807796017572008-07-02T15:27:00.008+01:002008-12-10T12:50:35.156+00:00In praise of classical architecture<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj339tBDItA5Xs3DFuh0WqTlW7QMHhxPlCCVubLdmo0SI2BWeBoKgrOHDQ58SfV49VHgVV-5V-1XDRIYyKX90DnlbZ0GzAVJjhK8qQsr8LQAf9VIYeYDQJb6QCprBTtWdCxJORBtbXrBkCK/s1600-h/segesta+front.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218434609165943586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj339tBDItA5Xs3DFuh0WqTlW7QMHhxPlCCVubLdmo0SI2BWeBoKgrOHDQ58SfV49VHgVV-5V-1XDRIYyKX90DnlbZ0GzAVJjhK8qQsr8LQAf9VIYeYDQJb6QCprBTtWdCxJORBtbXrBkCK/s400/segesta+front.jpg" border="0" /></a>Europe has many underrated gems but none the more so I think than the ancient temples of Sicily. I visited this wonderful island last April and was bowled over by its beauty. Modern life, poverty and corruption has tried all it could to ruin it but she has lost little of her glory and still resplendent under the Mediterranean sunshine.<br />Of all the marvelous sights we encountered on our tour - and there were many - the most evocative and enthralling for me was the Doric temple at Segesta.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj6tTubjx9zAWopvSe6GX4_Cv_owanWfDmxes3GFI-k9bablDxqjOvPr6txnoZ3-7D_78ChyIqkozUJYXXp-u-7rao6N-k1Xt7lT9O6kDZp5_DX2Eq_Cozi_Y2aaItjatk3wwlrr-l5mPI/s1600-h/sicily+gegesta.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218435059926062674" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj6tTubjx9zAWopvSe6GX4_Cv_owanWfDmxes3GFI-k9bablDxqjOvPr6txnoZ3-7D_78ChyIqkozUJYXXp-u-7rao6N-k1Xt7lT9O6kDZp5_DX2Eq_Cozi_Y2aaItjatk3wwlrr-l5mPI/s320/sicily+gegesta.jpg" border="0" /></a>No words carry enough weight to describe the powerful energy that surrounds this building and the awe that it inspires. Clothed in a sea of giant fennels and dwarf Chamaerops palms, it was for me the epitome of architectural genius.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218433817405437282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGpBkpKMTXGArs8tm6JO2RqdlMb0ObufGT4Oel1Wc0aj0yUcV5brv_TbPeSz5pDS-aLHD-gjv4MfkQDDNgjEaLOfTwWHkh077gg-SI7CeXlPkjh2zBOvB1GNtk_JKXmBinYsexpFWDjw88/s400/Segesta.jpg" border="0" /> <br /><br /><br /><div></div>philippehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14030285393007065545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6769562585573011286.post-49795745404112732852008-06-28T09:13:00.014+01:002008-12-10T12:50:36.208+00:00How to defeat the enemy peacefullySlugs are particularly fine connoisseurs when it comes to plants. They will spot the newest and rarest of one’s plant collection and if they could speak to us, would comment on how…tasty it all is. Mature Delphiniums vaporise overnight, especially the coveted ‘Sandpiper’. It is simply caviar to them. But like a guest leaving a vintage red wine stain on your carpet after a party to remind you of the expense, slugs will leave you a slimy stem and, if you are lucky, a few midribs. Not succulent enough, they’ve moved on to the imperial dahlia. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0KrCTWjyix_iSD45Lo9hkVI1KUGOr3p5Ny9-TAvU1M7fIVu0itvr_v6HlBT73qzjLnhYXDPOg8_PAN8_J-43k4d7UznkkoCohzHurESU-roBipR3UBG-ncRpe4sUrJRSN297Pj7BRQYNO/s1600-h/slug.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216847959967160050" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0KrCTWjyix_iSD45Lo9hkVI1KUGOr3p5Ny9-TAvU1M7fIVu0itvr_v6HlBT73qzjLnhYXDPOg8_PAN8_J-43k4d7UznkkoCohzHurESU-roBipR3UBG-ncRpe4sUrJRSN297Pj7BRQYNO/s320/slug.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Despite all this, I begrudge putting pellets down. It’s like land mines; it also harms untargeted benign things. No, I much prefer to put beer baths for them to drown in (although that means disposing of swollen bodies on a regular basis), but admittedly not everyone is alcoholic and some prefer to binge on food rather than booze. Farewell giant lilies then. Sometimes I feel I might as well put a special label saying ‘rare and precious, enjoy the feast’. My last resort is nematodes, which apparently parasite the body of slugs with bacterium, slowly driving them to their grave, but it’s pretty costly and has to be reapplied every 6 weeks. Clearly I’ll have to re-mortgage the house if I want a slug-free garden.<br />Perhaps the thing to do instead is to grow plants that molluscs don’t like. Oriental poppy should be the perfect candidate, having hairy leaves that slugs surely won’t touch. That’s two weeks of the year covered with flowers then…and bare earth for the rest of the year. For poppies’ leaves have the bad habit of dying down completely after the plant has flowered, leaving a great gash in the borders at the worse time of year - the height of summer. One cannot really plant annuals in their place either. A few years ago, I thought I was clever planting white cosmos around my ‘Perry's White’ poppy.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1grxcjFAY-CvcUZ_Zzi6QiHlMnZHtR0a1XxMTMq-Botu7NYSPEZlmb848cY_T68UP7z9yqda4cmi6i9fThuuxEWxvMqn6if99FsbMFLTXmlTj11wrQPNI5v2UyyWjfiFWYFgDk0HhIftm/s1600-h/papaver+"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216849652530354850" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1grxcjFAY-CvcUZ_Zzi6QiHlMnZHtR0a1XxMTMq-Botu7NYSPEZlmb848cY_T68UP7z9yqda4cmi6i9fThuuxEWxvMqn6if99FsbMFLTXmlTj11wrQPNI5v2UyyWjfiFWYFgDk0HhIftm/s320/papaver+%27Perry%27s+White%27.jpg" border="0" /></a> Easily raised in a pot whilst the crepe flowers of the poppy were out dancing, popped in a couple of weeks later, they grew beautifully supplying the border with the same fluttering white feeling. I felt so proud, surely even Gertrude Jekyll couldn’t have done better! Well, I was put right in my place before long. The wretched poppy resumed its growth when the cosmos was at its best in late summer. Or tried to do so, completely shaded by the annual. I couldn’t put myself to dig what was the finest clump of cosmos I had ever grown and so the poppy gave up the ghost.<br />And that was a dramatic event for me because, despite all their foliar faults, oriental poppies are amongst my most favourite of all flowers. It’s the way they make the light dance and reflect on their petals that do it. If one were to believe in fairies, one would imagine their wings made of the same material. And for the colourphile in me, the fact that they come in just the most glorified shades in the vegetable world is not a negligible thing at all. The straight orange one needs revisiting, and admittedly is not for the faint hearted.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJQ4fJXqeDxFWRM3LV2fUtH60yS4_r66xpQuaSdq84ksoHefyNylwBkGxJM-xyAynrE3xswf9hx29i8MkJEv9zCor0b7Sb-Q-Maz7LSiViLlaBCYqy2ygmAl5KcNWAYUnzI-BhW7boxyNb/s1600-h/Papaver+orientale+"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216846945331945010" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJQ4fJXqeDxFWRM3LV2fUtH60yS4_r66xpQuaSdq84ksoHefyNylwBkGxJM-xyAynrE3xswf9hx29i8MkJEv9zCor0b7Sb-Q-Maz7LSiViLlaBCYqy2ygmAl5KcNWAYUnzI-BhW7boxyNb/s320/Papaver+orientale+%27Princess+Victoria+Louise%27+%2B+Astrantia+%27C.jpg" border="0" /></a> I have a bold(er) friend who has mixed it with the apricot ‘Prinzessin Victoria Louise’, lots of blue flax, cerise Astrantia and tons of greenery (later perennials such as Phlox and Monarda) in her border and it looked ravishing. I shall have a picture of it imprinted in my mind forever. It really was bliss.<br />‘Watermelon’ (photo, below) is another daunting one to place with particularly vibrant pink petals, whilst ‘Royal Chocolate Distinction’ is dusky purple/brown and dramatic. Ugly but essential, if only for the name. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieMm5MswHVDRQ_iZEqm7hyphenhyphenorrpVx94dBWFNuccZ5sPMEmlCQ1bGlW3-rTsBHehBH_8EneR2QPs76sQshHIaNG_2hpQR6ncYZ-YrLxKjTDtT4iZgqJve66M5NzizVlWJKBBYrNXFMc4aLYS/s1600-h/Papaver+orientale+rose+franc.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216846131435360706" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="202" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieMm5MswHVDRQ_iZEqm7hyphenhyphenorrpVx94dBWFNuccZ5sPMEmlCQ1bGlW3-rTsBHehBH_8EneR2QPs76sQshHIaNG_2hpQR6ncYZ-YrLxKjTDtT4iZgqJve66M5NzizVlWJKBBYrNXFMc4aLYS/s320/Papaver+orientale+rose+franc.jpg" width="302" border="0" /></a>There is also another one I adore called ‘Karine’. Its flowers are smallish, but of a sweet blush-pink colour and they open wide, like those of a Flanders poppy. Perhaps equally reminiscent of the Flanders poppy, but this time because of the colour is the excellent ‘King Kong’ with large red frilly flowers on strong stems – no less is expect from Mr. Gorilla!<br />I didn’t replant ‘Perry's White' but put in its cousin Romneya coulteri instead and it delights me as much, perhaps even more, having not only white crepe paper petals, but also a nice bright yellow boss of stamens in the centre and lovely semi-evergreen blue foliage to boot.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216846467237534322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 450px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 282px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="280" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG1oSidjs7H7lBaJdHXB7_Y14iKzZv8vkOiW9ILQBSSSK-NFHgM_pntStcyARca8Mqzv2o_K7artmkf15tUTOXbNmii0Lz59Nc2U8iotJ4M9bwPBGREMoLnEypHVl2V75bxkEo99Gy4sZ5/s400/Romneya+coulteri.jpg" width="432" border="0" /> It is a temperamental plant to accommodate though (the climate of England is not very similar to that of its native California!) and mine is not yet the thug it can become where it is happy. I have admired it at its best in Hyde Park and also at at Sissinghurst where it was so happy it grew out of cracks in an old wall. Perhaps it is better behaved on chalk.<br />We'll soon find out.philippehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14030285393007065545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6769562585573011286.post-25444053457191046732008-06-26T22:29:00.006+01:002008-12-10T12:50:37.137+00:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHQX-1tsiqIf2kNatem8cFmaIAU92WIxeuLGxzXWRgDpV8DOOQA-_TF1apfuAzW6ujUsPsTjvH-c5rciN3mMZaUmmw_R-IsoWFLNhNfpMmyI8ijZ3VGZkzsovkWudnKuJSXzixZq5NCPm4/s1600-h/Arbres+en+grayscale.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216306364242906418" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 309px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 174px" height="183" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHQX-1tsiqIf2kNatem8cFmaIAU92WIxeuLGxzXWRgDpV8DOOQA-_TF1apfuAzW6ujUsPsTjvH-c5rciN3mMZaUmmw_R-IsoWFLNhNfpMmyI8ijZ3VGZkzsovkWudnKuJSXzixZq5NCPm4/s400/Arbres+en+grayscale.jpg" width="341" border="0" /></a>"Le future appartient à ceux qui croient en la beauté de leurs rêves. Le voyage de découverte ne repose non pas dans la découverte de nouveaux paysages, mais dans la découverte d'un regard nouveau. Ce que la voix peut cacher, le regard le livre. Il faut faire en sorte que les rêves dévorent notre vie afin que la vie ne dévore pas nos rêves. On ne peut diriger le vent, mais on peut orienter les voiles... "philippehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14030285393007065545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6769562585573011286.post-62781619041196360522008-06-25T22:57:00.016+01:002008-12-10T12:50:37.968+00:00I knew this was going to happen. I have to face the ultimate dilemma: choose between the carriage (with the princess in it) or the pumpkin. Now, wait before you make a blind suggestion. You don’t know yet about that one addiction of mine that makes the decision so difficult. You see, I am obsessed with pumpkins. Not just the Jack O’Lantern at Halloween, but all of the ones that make up the genre Cucurbita. They are everything a lonely kitchen gardener like me could want. They are sensuous, have a gentle touch and shine with singular personalities. True, they are demanding and take an awful lot of space, but that is expected from any richly coloured company, isn’t it?<br />My infatuation began quite casually with a visit to friends who cultivate the land for a living. They have for dwelling a beautiful colonial house clad with bleached cedar shingles and a white veranda of noble proportions. There doesn’t appear to be any design about the garden surrounding it, and yet it looks marvelous with tall ash trees affording shade to Solomon’s seals, self-sown impatiens balfourii, martagon lilies, lady’s mantle and the misunderstood Apios Americana which, for once, is left to climb and clamber on the aforementioned veranda’s balustrade. It is through the veil of this vine that I saw the first collection of pumpkins that sparked my interest in them. You might not be familiar with the Apios, and it is therefore necessary that should I make a brief description of it so that you can picture the portrait as I saw it myself on that day.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPym5Zgno_NVc4joDFOiXDR_oguJAB2Fl9JyArqlm8lBZhPCfYgHXJ3VA-v7ds9XMVSdfk2gdWy2eo6ZVHgq6jXwhb0oSOIX6pBNKS1N1OiKo5dc0QiNsIya44WgOlWu6Pr8qMyflgkRL-/s1600-h/apios+2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215945036252255170" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 251px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" height="270" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPym5Zgno_NVc4joDFOiXDR_oguJAB2Fl9JyArqlm8lBZhPCfYgHXJ3VA-v7ds9XMVSdfk2gdWy2eo6ZVHgq6jXwhb0oSOIX6pBNKS1N1OiKo5dc0QiNsIya44WgOlWu6Pr8qMyflgkRL-/s320/apios+2.jpg" width="249" border="0" /></a> It is a very pretty vine, similar in leaf to a wisteria, with clusters of ‘Etruscan Red’ pea flowers in late summer. It is herbaceous and grows back from spreading underground rhizomes every year. It is too boisterous for the manicured border but otherwise a worthy garden plant if kept under control.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2MUc7qd0riflDzymZhTytId5x_Gr8YbmLTsdiTqN1f7AyHKTlgBTdgGt3RjMP15O8JIm0E6UDsO1ILlP2No6IRdzB4lxQlXQfWU2-r_gIEhLT8AksTpk8n4eyiaCU2BUmAzVtqRTQ8h-G/s1600-h/apios.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215944930421894338" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 206px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 265px" height="284" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2MUc7qd0riflDzymZhTytId5x_Gr8YbmLTsdiTqN1f7AyHKTlgBTdgGt3RjMP15O8JIm0E6UDsO1ILlP2No6IRdzB4lxQlXQfWU2-r_gIEhLT8AksTpk8n4eyiaCU2BUmAzVtqRTQ8h-G/s400/apios.jpg" width="219" border="0" /></a> This is made easy in the fact that the round rhizomes are attached together like a string of pearls (hence its quirky name of ‘patate en chapelet’ or rosary potato in French parts of Canada where it grows wild and where it used to be eaten in meager times).<br />Back at our picture then; here we were, on a hot autumn day. I had just walked through my friend’s exhaustive gardens and was still intoxicated by the beauty of the marsh mallows and seedy red orach when I came to the front of the house and was hit by the beauty of the scene. There stood two dozens, or three perhaps, of the loveliest deep orange fruits in an old decrepit willow basket, clothed with the flowers of the Apios. ‘They are ‘Ushiki Kuri’ those’ said my friend when he caught the sight of me transfixed. ‘Rather a good season for the squashes, we’ve got other sorts curing in the attic. I tried ‘Melonette Jaspée de Vendée’ and ‘Galeuse d’Eysines’ this year’.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215948015438918914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFgWVS1bBBapow11ZsqYUHPql3e46CcQV02xV4Y3yJWMd3CRRM47FONEvUpEnFBdVjtGMUEFZZ1iu7hnG_YFGs4Z7cJ3f4BZtJE6yU6GAwvcVYhSM1HcQ3SjBKkoRTFC3i2ugxlOto-lhY/s400/selection+de+courge.jpg" border="0" />The Melonette turned out to be a sweet round buff-coloured (jaspée; after the crystalline stone jasper) fruit with sweet, nutty flesh and the other a squat, flesh-coloured pumpkin covered in corky warts (‘Galeuse’; warty) that looks more like a sculpture than a vegetable. Quite wonderful!<br />I had already grown the ubiquitous orange belly pumpkin as a teenager, the ancient ‘Connecticut Field’ variety I still love so much, although I now grow a similar but less rampant sort called ‘Appalachian’. It was so easy, all one had to do was to put the wheel barrow behind the horse, feed it a little hay, let time take its course, collect the barrow, drop it’s content in a pile in the vegetable garden, and throw a couple of seeds in the centre. No need to water, the manure being quite damp enough, no need to worry about cold nights that still pervaded the air this early in the season, the manure supplying the necessary heat for germination. I was always rewarded with healthy plants that grew, grew and kept growing. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCdrjQryjUQNR6f4pxapeVby0tMuZbSiRcpuk7tBUf9GwrEQ1i9DDN_55BHBfPSthlkC2EAj7jpq2LD-q8tNhWkAW3fEsqc90NjkrpNmph28w76dDxFm79Xjf9Er1Y4ib3hJjPB1KHFKmd/s1600-h/kitchen+garden+courgettes+26++june+2007.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215949232083403202" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="324" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCdrjQryjUQNR6f4pxapeVby0tMuZbSiRcpuk7tBUf9GwrEQ1i9DDN_55BHBfPSthlkC2EAj7jpq2LD-q8tNhWkAW3fEsqc90NjkrpNmph28w76dDxFm79Xjf9Er1Y4ib3hJjPB1KHFKmd/s400/kitchen+garden+courgettes+26++june+2007.jpg" width="433" border="0" /></a>I always planted them too closely, I still do; it is almost impossible to believe that something can grow so quickly as to cover an entire neighbourhood in one season! In the early autumn, once the foliage had been killed by the frost appeared the big fruits. Well, they appeared to other people, I already knew exactly where each fruit was, having inspected under the vines through the summer, an operation that I had to do in long trousers, since the leaves and stalks of cucurbits are distastefully coarse and prickly. I had also grown the spaghetti squash to please an old lady friend who had introduced it and extolled its virtues to me, a strange oddity for which I still keep a particular affection. If cut in half and steamed head down, it yields deliciously crunchy fibers similar to spaghetti that can be eaten in the same way, with a thin tomato sauce and lots of garlic. I had also grown (rather too successfully to my mother’s liking) a few small ornamental gourds from a penny packet but it had never occurred to me that there should be so many other types like the luscious greys from Australia and New Zealand, the delicious American Hubbards, the pretty but bland French giraumons, or best of all, the Japanese Kuri or Chestnuts. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLasJ5Y7jOQmvAuE7vtW7e4TOl8r9ac6qaNZTbgWyjwjG1W_LdINfyYk-yTJ7nu4rhAmJ5EIXhLBa8WyEGwbI3GTPYU3AavbcaQ6IVF3UmAtj4IKdBulAGjDkVNptvwDumPg5db3J3xnEo/s1600-h/squash+harvest+2004.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215948142817251730" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 319px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 215px" height="225" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLasJ5Y7jOQmvAuE7vtW7e4TOl8r9ac6qaNZTbgWyjwjG1W_LdINfyYk-yTJ7nu4rhAmJ5EIXhLBa8WyEGwbI3GTPYU3AavbcaQ6IVF3UmAtj4IKdBulAGjDkVNptvwDumPg5db3J3xnEo/s400/squash+harvest+2004.JPG" width="325" border="0" /></a>Each region of the world seems to have its own distinct variety and my seed collection increases as I manage to source new ones every year, yet space does not multiply itself and it has now become an ordeal to choose which ones to plant in the spring.<br />I think I have just answered the question that plagued me at the beginning of this essay; forget Cinderella and her glittery carriage, I much prefer a pumpkin after midnight anytime!philippehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14030285393007065545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6769562585573011286.post-35694674732176633132008-06-23T18:35:00.035+01:002008-12-10T12:50:38.255+00:00Keepers of the rainforest<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbvo9t8WOTN-ac4_R8umQkFGbjHsm9nSVZAj2NrX4qyxYEOsEd2ezDHNAom-uS0dXp7UyqCD78soZyBLiiQtFDuzxpvgQBmfHk58Gjv-cUJSrD1m-uEYBI6UzRPtKSvTJ6A896mk0tQPVN/s1600-h/peru_rain_forest_andes.thumb"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215158463182686850" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 290px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 292px" height="301" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbvo9t8WOTN-ac4_R8umQkFGbjHsm9nSVZAj2NrX4qyxYEOsEd2ezDHNAom-uS0dXp7UyqCD78soZyBLiiQtFDuzxpvgQBmfHk58Gjv-cUJSrD1m-uEYBI6UzRPtKSvTJ6A896mk0tQPVN/s400/peru_rain_forest_andes.thumb" width="299" border="0" /></a>There are times and places that remain forever imprinted in one's mind as a gift of the past. Three years ago, as I made my way to Whyanbeel valley, I knew one such gift was unfolding in front of me. I had never worked in the tropics and I felt like a child in a candy shop - so many unusual flowers, flavours and colours to excite my senses! I had stumbled upon a book on my travels<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt0v5Xtxm5JFMCOd0fgOY63-j4wmWGEAqk7R7LwYHWaRzBOov295QHHy07F1umsgd_qJdAnRUbqh-jz0ni4BRZXLqdmpO2rXtppO7Jo1LUlw2Q4isCxO2t0MD2g7OmymOp545d2YDMVoOZ/s1600-h/jungle.jpg"></a> in Australia about a private farm called the Botanical Ark and was so taken by the philosophy of the owners that I called them to offer <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY8VK66IA9GMucCt0PlmssLxUmIF28h8GhH-m2Wa08QpQp3-dYorfD1kzpGTAKJawhDE0CI5jxNIWOO6DsTy6uridUWwKrOhvkFNVJIFFWCtIuE8fCjPbRxg39fAnrLUXkUfxD4g67wjkV/s1600-h/pitaya.jpg"></a>my services as a gardener for free for a month. It was a truly magical experience and when time came to go, I left the heart heavy, but filled with sunshine and hope for a better future. Alan and Susan Carle are the most amazing people I have ever met. Whilst we all talk of the destruction of the planet and cry on each other's shoulder, they are hard at task, planting trees on their tropical paradise farm in order to help preserve a small portion of the remaining rainforests. Their passion for the tropical forests of the world is infectious and they instigated in me the belief that we can all make a difference, whoever we are and wherever we are to help protect the 'lungs' of the planet.<br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div>Upon returning here in England, I decided I must do something to spread the word about the role of plants and the rainforests. I didn't quite know how to set about doing so but, as luck would have it, I was offered a position as a tour guide for the Botanical Gardens at Kew. I was thrilled, it was the perfect window to share my knowledge and experience in helping the <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5lIGWbKd2nC7crdUzMqYwpmLcC1KR8m14hWGht2NGx8TE_KEB113Z-gr4nHDLCZWq3XWePVVszdP6dcLAyN5wTsUiC92kcBqJW91uA0YDMR6tc3zkRFoAW0jdDafYRafKeltOIQf9REG5/s1600-h/palm+house+kew.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215161402561753122" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5lIGWbKd2nC7crdUzMqYwpmLcC1KR8m14hWGht2NGx8TE_KEB113Z-gr4nHDLCZWq3XWePVVszdP6dcLAyN5wTsUiC92kcBqJW91uA0YDMR6tc3zkRFoAW0jdDafYRafKeltOIQf9REG5/s320/palm+house+kew.jpg" border="0" /></a>rainforests. That is why I can now be heard extolling the virtues of plants at the top of my lungs in the Palm House most every week.</div><br /><div>People often ask me what they can do to help when the rainforests are so far away and not a tangible part of their daily life. They are always very suprised to hear me retorting that in fact they probably consume a particular product from the rainforest on a regular if not daily basis and that they can help by avoiding it. I am talking here of the insidious <strong>palm oil</strong>. You probably have never bought it on its own, but if you start looking at manufactured biscuits, crackers, crisps, cakes and sweets in your cupboards, you'll find that it is in everything crispy, crunchy, fatty or oily. Why the food industry uses palm oil is because it is hard at room temperature, helping food keep its bite for longer. Previously, hydrogenated fat was used for that purpose but it got bad press from the health authorities and most companies took it out of their production because they had to declare it on the packaging. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215157506490124850" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="223" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibDxF1EgDURpMAbA8pL-wYwC8XDe29SJE5UJLV1GakX0SRr9TYeN1tiEbc6R5Bn0AGrO_4YDsywOMIIrAu_NQdXyv7h3tGVC9wDcTfzHOPP9HtYZdpT5M-py6p-zD2nrAdj6zG6ubZ7q6n/s400/OilPalmPlantation3_small.jpg" width="424" border="0" /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>The problem with palm oil (other than the fact that it plugs one's arteries) is that it comes from a huge palm tree that can only be grown in the hot tropics and to make way to the crop, more and more forest is being cleared as demand increases, fuelled by us, the western world. This is especially potent in South East and Austral Asia. One can therefore help the preservation of the Malaysian and Papuan forests by simply boycoting palm oil! </div>It can be frustrating to try to avoid this darn oil completely - it is so widely used now - but there are options: most oatcakes for example are made with it but not Paterson's or Waitrose's own brand. Same with sweet biscuits, although shortbread, amaretti and cantuccini don't have any. Cadbury chocolates use it in their products, but not companies like Green and Black's or Montezuma. Cheap pastries have <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQBrd5Q4_IrcZ3yUsHFPvOcFSVC3ag2khh23VPX12jukwoi-4jrDNCyzK2X2BhdWCjfTJDMwEnKMdsJ7OJvIp66t_Vok7zDl4_pYEuSt2SuBIWf8Xd2nwU1sEo-Y3Q47JuO8HfxoPBY2_7/s1600-h/oil+palm.jpg"></a>it too (it leaves a greasy taste in one's mouth after eating it), but all butter croissants don't (can you believe butter puffs do though?!). I urge you to try having a go next time you do your shopping, it is worth every effort. The Orang Outang will thank you for it. And me too!</div></div></div></div></div></div></div>philippehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14030285393007065545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6769562585573011286.post-53623258117083353952008-06-21T12:29:00.005+01:002008-12-10T12:50:38.406+00:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq60d97WZJmcPyGYAo6MYmFiccz5-vV4hEv47SAMaNjZ4MjPDoa_0kQWbKIoTknm0HuAOztXooUPKZN9NfWxHlbpKtOZPMxUNAsId4uruQY4rNiqukSer1AAGiXBlLXPkjx2lo8VhF_6Bw/s1600-h/mariza.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214306229988789170" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq60d97WZJmcPyGYAo6MYmFiccz5-vV4hEv47SAMaNjZ4MjPDoa_0kQWbKIoTknm0HuAOztXooUPKZN9NfWxHlbpKtOZPMxUNAsId4uruQY4rNiqukSer1AAGiXBlLXPkjx2lo8VhF_6Bw/s200/mariza.jpg" border="0" /></a>I only visited Lisbon once, three years ago. I was quite taken by its charming shabby appearance and lush Jacaranda avenues. I long to return and wander down the small streets of Alfama. Meanwhile I listen to Mariza and let myself be smitten by her unique voice and extraordinary persona. Her album 'Concerto em Lisboa' is a pearl in the sea of music<br />Look her up:<br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OzrUs08-SWs&feature=related">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OzrUs08-SWs&feature=related</a>philippehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14030285393007065545noreply@blogger.com0