I am sitting putting this blog together in the kitchen with a blousy basket of pink hyacinths in front of me. Hyacinths appear in this garden in different beds in different years and how the bulbs get there is always a mystery. I imagine a small red squirrel bowing under the weight of a large hyacinth bulb running round the garden looking for a new hiding place! These ones I dug up earlier and couldn’t find anywhere to put them so planted them in a basket for indoors. I am always ambivalent about their perfume - heady and musky making me think of smells of youth - soap and old ladies. These pink hyacinths have grown rather open instead of a tight fat candle of flower and I was pleased to read that they are breeding them to be a little more relaxed in style.
I’ve been in the garden a lot. Gardening is a terrifically rewarding occupation particular when you have time to do things properly. Flowers that amaze with their colours, trees that grow to become key parts of a landscape and delicious vegetables straight from the potager. But nature can be harsh too. Over the winter, gardener Kate and I spent weeks digging out some of the flower beds, ridding them of stones and adding compost and replanting. We’ve never had the time before, nor have I had the energy.
Our endless rain has resulted not only in flooded fields but has drenched our hillside which mostly consists of chalk rocks. Chalk ends up absorbing the water and getting soft - resulting in landslides.
After a particularly wet weekend, I spotted a rockfall down the driveway which had bashed some of the photinia hedge. I set about picking up the heavy stones and taking them in the wheelbarrow to our rock depot beyond the bonfire. Then the crumbled wet mess that remained had to be shovelled up and taken away. Eight wheelbarrow loads later, I thought that we were nearly done. The next day Kate cleared away some more stones further up and we inspected this part of the hillside making sure that everything was safe for the moment. As she went she asked me if I’d been up by the pool to see if anything had happened there and I assured her I was off to have a look - but by the time I had walked up to the house I had forgotten. The next morning when sipping my coffee in my pjs I remembered and wandered out. OMG. What had been a new bed of vinca behind the maison d’amis was now a pile of rubble. The bed beside the pool so carefully prepared only a few weeks before, was littered with huge soft stones.
It’s at this stage that you have to be stoic. Gardener girls don’t cry.
In fact tears were quite close on the agenda anyway as team Brel consisting of Kate (outside) and Annie (inside) were both going through personal tragedies. Kate’s mum and Annie’s father had both died the day before - awful Covid related deaths in the UK. Not to be able to grieve properly, not to be able to say goodbye - just the most awful thing.
So everyone just got busy picking up stones and tidying the garden as best we could. The girls are coming to terms with their grief and relying on family members to make the appropriate arrangements back in England. A trip across the channel means not only isolation for days but costly tests and expensive travel costs. Then I heard that a old friend in the States had died of Covid pneumonia. We were all sad.
The crumbling hillside presented a problem and there was much discussion. Gabion cages seemed a possibility although hardly adding to the rustic landscape at Brel. Our hillside is enormously high and nothing but huge high walls would really be strong enough. We decided to do nothing and just hope that this would not happen too often.
Nature doesn’t wait. The rain was followed by sunny days and in no time plants started to show through the earth. An early start this year after another mild winter.
When we moved here the grass garden was a sloping field where previous owners kept their horses. It was one of the first bits of landscaping that we did in the early 2000s and the grasses on the three terraces are mature and tall. Cutting them back overwinter is a big job and Kate likes to start to cut them back as early as possible in the year. This year I persuaded her to give me a week or so extra to enjoy their winter display as they sway in the wind - with the village of Roquecor high above them. In the end I had to admit that they were starting to put out new shoots.
Kate donned strong gloves and trimmed them while I did my best to weed them. We planted some new ones as well as some Rosa Spinosissima and tucked in a few rudbeckia to give a bit of a prairie garden look. I think that we could spend several more weeks making improvements but when the grasses grow they are big and forgiving so we will adjust as we go along.
More sadness was awaiting us. Two big black dogs appeared in the courtyard and were shooed away. Kate couldn’t find her miniature Yorkie Elton. We found him with bite marks and a broken back by the barn - left dead by the rogue black dogs. Elton, smaller than our cats, had a wonderfully cheerful disposition and we were all heartbroken at this tragedy. Kate reported this attack to the police who actually found the owner. Apparently the dogs had attacked another dog as well as the owners son and he was told to put them down by the police.
So our gardening has continued with heavy hearts. Kate is searching for another dog and time will slowly heal but it was a thuggish act.
We have moved on to rose pruning - not a moment too soon as the roses are already sprouting. The bonfire is growing apace and waiting for a day without wind - we’ve had some high gusting winds for three days. My new little green tunnel is filling with rose cuttings - to go with the many other cuttings building up strength for the next season.
This week I finally got to visit the rose nursery which is about 40 minutes away with a friend who has many wonderful specimens in her garden. I must have passed it many times but had missed the very discreet sign. What a gem of a place.
I have stocked up with Rosa Opalia - a super white single rose that is very disease resistant and flowers for months - and Rosa Vesuvia - a smaller single pillar box red rose which spreads itself out with masses of flowers. Now to find exactly the right spaces for planting.
The seeds are starting to germinate in my plastic bottles as they enjoy their mini ecosystems. They’ve been outside for more than a month and I was starting to worry but suddenly there are mini plants appearing. Other seeds which I have planted in the greenhouse with no additional heating have also come up.
Peter has taken delivery of 2.5 tonnes of compost for the potager and has spent the last couple of weeks topping up his no-dig beds. They are ready to receive plants but it’s early yet and the only things planted out so far are some very healthy looking peas that have been overwintered in the greenhouse.
February is coming to an end, the easing of lockdown is planned in England and I have had two vaccinations here in France although supply of vaccine seems to be limited after the first flush of activity. Younger husbands have to wait!
It has been a sad month in so many ways but life goes on in the garden. I just went out to take a photo of my rose cuttings and I spotted a big bumble bee on the forsythia. It made me smile. Mother Nature is all around us here and she is wonderful!
