#SoS

Six On Saturday ~ Tales Of The Unexpected

Runner Bean Re-run?

Even though I was keeping the row well watered, and had earlier dosed plants with seaweed feed, the runner beans went on strike for most of August. It didn’t help that the sparrows were using them as an afternoon playground, rampaging through the stems. When I consulted the Royal Society of Horticulture website it told me that sparrows like to peck at the flowers, deforming the structures and making it difficult for pollinating insects to gain access. So much for feeding the little dears all winter.

But now, with the rain and cool temperatures, the runners are a jungle on sticks. We even had a handful of good sized beans this week, and there are signs among the returning flowers of tiny beanlets. But will they have time to develop? Who knows?

Not quite Uchiki Kuri

I kept some seeds from last year’s Uchiki Kuri Japanese squash. I only produced two. The fruits were very bright orange and oval as they should be. Not so their offspring, sown in late spring, one each from two separate plants.

A Perfect Red Devil?

We thought all the apples on our miniature Red Devil tree had been zapped by codling moths. After the July drop there are four left, this one the least scathed and best developed. But would it entice Snow White?

Some strange sunflowers

The sunflower flock that arose from last year’s dropped seed is still going strong. It also includes several forms that I don’t recall growing in the first place, and one with multiple flowers growing up the stalk which is distinctly odd. The tallest, we reckon, is about 3 metres. I have it tethered to the obelisk where we had the sweet peas, whence it looms down at us. I’ve already dead-headed it once. That took some doing with a pair of tree loppers.

No, this definitely isn’t a Selinum seedling

I distinctly remember saving some seed from the Selinum in the upstairs garden. All through the winter there was a pot of seeds on the kitchen shelf. Definitely umbelliferous in looks. Must be the Selinum. In the spring I sowed them in modules in the greenhouse and for a long time nothing happened. And then it did, and I couldn’t think what on earth I had grown. Not the feathery leaflets expected, something altogether more fleshy and pointy. What on earth…?

For a time I wondered if they were Rudbeckia, suddenly making an appearance after what I thought to be a failed sowing back in the autumn. This rather made up for them not being Selinum so I let them grow on, and eventually planted out half a dozen in various spots around the garden. They survived the drought, but didn’t expand much.

Cut to a visit to Wildegoose Walled Garden and Nursery, as featured here in last weeks SoS. I came away with a young Patrinia Monandra plant. (Some may be aware that I have a thing about Patrinia, first met with at Wildegoose during one of their rare winter opening weekends. It is tall, graceful, discreetly clumping and flowers into November when the seedheads then reflect any late autumn sunlight.)

I already have two Patrinia Punctifolia, bought last year from Great Dixter nursery (one of which I nearly killed this summer in my careless feeding of a nearby plant). But the survivor is currently flowering beautifully. And still the penny did not drop.

You could say it was a ‘be careful what you wish for’ moment, although in this case I would delighted to have a garden with lots of Patrinia. And so now I do. The seed I’d saved must have come from a handful snaffled from the winter visit to Wildegoose. Suddenly I saw the plants I had grown and the one I’d bought looked – well- identical. Probably the Monandra version then.

Patrinia as seen at Wildegoose in late August, just beginning to flower.

Heaven knows what happened to the Selinum seeds. Try again this year.

An unexpectedly pleasing delivery

There are some lovely plantspeople selling on-line. And so trawling the net in search of yet another plant seen at Wildegoose, but one which they don’t appear to sell, or haven’t in stock, I discovered Solidago Golden Dwarf at Crossgate Nursery in Cornwall. Here it is just after arrival. The plants had been carefully folded to preserve the stems that are just about to flower. I expect they’ll straighten out. But anyway, here it is in the front garden. There are several ‘dwarf’ varieties I now discover, ones that don’t get out of hand and flop, and also have more lemony coloured flowers.

Here’s another repeat photo from the Wildegoose visit where I spotted a spread of lemony, just-out solidago with some Persicaria.

A good week then, all in all. And rain and sun too. Happy gardening, folks.

Six on Saturday It’s a wise gardener who labels their seed envelopes. Please visit Jim for more garden doings and some fabulous coleus.

WildeGoose ~ Still Beauty In The Dry Garden

There’s not much happening in the home garden this week, but wonder of wonders, we have some serious rain. After two months standing empty, the water butts are brimming, and every watering can is full. And so comes the dilemma: lots of rain still coming and nowhere to store the excess; nor any need to use it outside the greenhouse. At least for the next week.

Anyway, this still has me thinking about cultivating a more drought-resilient garden, and so prompted by last week’s return visit to the Wildegoose walled garden (last seen in late June),and see how the nursery’s extensive herbaceous-ornamental grass borders have fared without rain.

I should perhaps explain that Wildegoose (location in Munslow in South Shropshire’s Corve Valley) is both a specialist nursery (for violas in particular) and is also a garden attraction in its own right, complete with a very pleasing cafe that makes use of the kitchen garden’s fruit and vegetables.

This leaves a very large portion of the walled garden which is given over to herbaceous plants and ornamental grasses (especially Calamagrostis and Miscanthus species), with different areas framed by paths, sections of hedging, some statement shrubs and small trees. There is also a fabulously restored Georgian glasshouse.

With such big spaces to cultivate, the schemes have been devised with much emphasis on height and visual structure. Plants are left to go to seed over the winter, with the further objective of tracking particular plant responses to weather extremes.

N.B. These areas are not watered during the growing season.

When we arrived a week ago (21 August) it was clear some plants had truly suffered. All the phlox, for instance, had been cut down. But there were also many picturesque, dried-on-the-stem ornamentals like the teasels in the header photo. Gone-over eryngiums of several varieties also added to the general look of scenic desiccation. Likewise the seed heads of many varieties of allium (especially Drumsticks), dark rusty spires of foxgloves and the tall wafting stems of giant yellow scabious Cephalaria dipsacoides. And then there were the many grasses, short and tall. All added to the gentle soundscape of breeze-in-the- leaves.

As we wandered up and down the paths, the dead-head coronets of Echinacea Leilani (1) caught my eye. Such smouldering looks in decay.

But it was the surviving and thriving that most interested me. In one quarter of the garden several Gaura were looking especially wonderful, outspread graceful stems of airy blossom, with nearby clumps of evening primroses and tall euphorbias that had clearly been putting on a good show, some flowers still remaining. Then there were the Verbenas, especially, bonariensis and hastata, and the Rudbeckias maxima and fulgida still going strong.

Unsurprisingly, many thrivers had Mediterranean origins. One, in particular, the umbelliferous Patrinia (2), particularly stood out and up among the grasses. It has been allowed to self-seed throughout the garden, the stems stately and self-supporting, some flowerheads a sprightly apple green (also see header photo), others going over in a haze of pale gold.

Here it is keeping company with some very crispy sea holly:

Other happy plants included various members of the origanum family. I succumbed to a pot of Oreganum Gentle Breeze (3) on the basis that you can’t have too different varieties, and they work well in a small garden.

Gentle Breeze appears to be a later flowering variety and was still a mass of dark purple buds.

And then there were the Achilleas (4) – Filipendula Cloth of Gold drying nicely beside the vegetable garden…

…and then the very creamy faced, in her prime, Hella Glashoff…

…seen growing alongside some flourishing Asters, probably thomsonii or x. frikartii Monch (5):

But the over-all winner for its vibrant colour and seeming late summer staying power has to be the Persicaria/Bistorta amplexicaulis (6). There were at least two varieties, the most striking probably the Amethyst. I think this is it in the next photo, shown to great advantage with a backdrop of just-opening golden rod (probably Little Lemon). What a glorious late summer combination.

And to finish, another longer view. These particular borders are very well mulched:

Six on Saturday Over at Garden Ruminations Jim is assessing the good and bad of Cornwall’s rainless summer. But the best news is: he has hedgehogs!

Eclipsed [Six on Saturday]

On Thursday evening we sat in the garden and watched, through a big dark cloud, a very partial partial eclipse of the sun. The cloud, though, created quite a light show. While this was going on, I took a photo of one of our sunflowers, basking in the unearthly glow.

In fact this crop of self-grown, mostly unattended sunflowers has positively thrived during the long heatwave. I have been removing the dead flowers and putting the heads along the edge of the borders, just in case any wildlife wishes to eat the seeds. I must have done this last year with the ones I grew intentionally. Which explains how this year’s lot came to be. So: who knows what will happen next year – a sunflower forest?

Thriver and SoS no. 2 is the Rudbeckia Herbstsonne. It is growing in the top of a boundary wall beside next door’s garage. The wall is basically a raised bed, and there is probably quite a depth of soil inside it. I never did get to the bottom of it. When we moved into The Gables three years ago it was choked with Hypericum Hidcote that had turned itself into the plant world’s version of chain-link fencing, intermeshed with brambles, and several well grown ash tree saplings. It took a marathon of digging to extract everything.

It is a rather odd spot for gardening. The wall runs from the road to our back garden, aligned east-west. I planted the Rudbeckia at the westerly end, thinking to screen the visibility gap between us and next door. And it works! I’ve not watered it all summer and here it is, complete with Red Admiral butterfly.

Thriver no, 3 is a neat little grass in the front border – Festuca glauca Intense Blue. This bed has had some water, but not much. I like its fountain looks and the way the grass reflects the light (which makes it hard to photograph.)

Number 4 is offered as proof of existence – or maybe circumstantial evidence at best. Here we have raindrops on sorrel leaves. At some point between Thursday night and Friday morning we had a spatter of rain. It fell on various surfaces but none apparently on the soil, which then and now remains dry as dust. The promised rainstorm for Friday afternoon did not happen.

No. 5 is the kind of infestation that comes with stressed plants and stressful conditions. The ants have set up aphid factories all over the garden, but especially in unsightly encrustations along the stems of otherwise lovely claret cosmos. The Dyer’s Chamomile is also a desirable location, as is the Montbretia. I’ve tried spraying with slightly soapy water, and gently wiping off by hand, but one ends up causing more damage to the flowers as well creating blackfly soup. And anyway, the ants only come and set up business again as soon as my back is turned.

But back to the good garden moments this week – a new blue butterfly spotted on the Korean Mint (Agastache). It’s a male Common Blue, wingspan about 3 cm. Exquisite.

Copyright Tish Farrell 2026

Six on Saturday: The hot dry weeks may be taking their toll, but there are still some wonderful plants in Jim’s Cornish garden

Six On Saturday: A Change In The Weather?

The full-on-sun, no-rain weather continues, leaving the back garden borders with derelict looks. Some herbaceous plants have simply had enough. And now that the rambling cranesbills, Anne Thomson and Red Admiral have petered out, there’s a striking loss of colour.

But not everything is fading. This is the season of SUNFLOWERS, both annual and perennial. And given the sudden floral gaps, I’m happy to see this self-sown and grown colony that’s circling the sweet pea obelisk. The sweet peas, anyway, are almost over – more beheading done than picking.

The perennial helianthus have also started to flower. I have them all over the place, although they can have thuggish tendencies. There’s a pleasing clump by the greenhouse, and more around the edges of the garden where nothing else seems quite so keen to grow. I think the original rootstock came via my sister from our Aunt Miriam’s slightly mad Devon garden; family feelings are involved here. With any luck, they should keep going till summer’s end.

As mentioned in previous SoS’s, the magenta-purple phlox paniculatas have been flowering valiantly, even as their petals scorch. Now that the heat is not so fierce, I’m hoping the freshly opened PHLOX PANICULATA DAVID will have its time unscathed. It is a lovely plant with a delicate scent, here keeping company with stems of gone-to-seed valerian. It looks so cool too.

It’s also CROCOSMIA season. We have a big and brutish clump growing in the upstairs garden by the shed. It came with the house. I quite like looking up at it from the back door, seeing the play of light through the sword-like leaves.

But the flowers are suffering, looking more inclined to die before opening. This is anyway not among my favourite plant varieties; far too rampant. But the same doesn’t go for its more refined cousin, Harlequin. I love everything about this plant – its stance, the more delicate sun-suffused leaves, the airy looks of the flowers, those juicy ice lolly colours…

Number four is not exactly a success story, though it depends on your perspective. This is the GLOBE ARTICHOKE we did not eat and for obvious reasons. It is presently a very busy aphid factory under strict ant management. I nearly cut it down, but then this week it began to flower. Even infested, it’s still spectacular. The bees like it too.

Five is a shout-out for OREGANO, however it comes – culinary or ornamental. I’ve already featured the very decorative Kent Beauty here, but at the moment it’s the cooking version that’s the big attraction for bees and butterflies. Painted Ladies and Hedge Browns have been among this week’s avid visitors. Much like the helianthus, I have oregano clumps all over the garden, between the raised beds and filling gaps in borders while new herbaceous plants grow on.

Finally, a food crop success, although not a great haul. And not surprising given the weeks and weeks without rain. Also I only planted 10 seed potatoes. So here we have it – a bucket of ROOSTER spuds. They should keep us going for a while.

And now fingers crossed for the promised cooler days. There might even be some drizzle this afternoon. (Do I believe this?)

Six on Saturday: 18 July 2026 This week host Jim has been capturing the garden wildlife.

Six on Saturday: HOT!

Still hot today, but there are promises of a degree or two cooler than yesterday. And please, please, please can we have the breeze back. For now, the phlox paniculata are gently roasting, especially the large petalled magenta/purple varieties. Only Adessa ‘Pink Star’ is keeping her cool, here seen alongside the starry Neptune’s Gold Sea Holly which doesn’t appear to mind the heat.

In the back garden, most of the border plants are fading fast, apart from the bergamot/bee balm/monarda. Over the last few days, it has burst into life and bees, although I’m sorry to see the individual flower parts are soon turning crispy round the edges. (But then aren’t we all!)

The peripheries of the garden don’t suffer full-on sun until after mid-day, and this is where I have the beans – French climbing Violette, and a few Borlotti and Butter Beans, growing up canes and obelisks. The runner beans are growing alongside the compost bin, mostly Enorma but also a few St. George. They are now providing a pleasing seasonal screen along this short section of garden which overlooks the road.

Actually, I love bean flowers (almost as much as the beans):

Behind the runners, in the old apple tree corner, is a raised bed with the butter bean obelisk, a courgette plant and a self-grown sunflower. Today, the courgette plant has a quartet of blooms, plus one courgette ready for picking.

You can see this week’s number six in the photo above, on the right, beyond the courgette leaves. It just happens to feature in today’s newsletter from Beth Chatto’s Plants and Gardens. So here we have Aster x Frickatii Monch as it starts its season, and rather sooner than expected.

In the newsletter, granddaughter, Julia Boulton, who now runs Beth Chatto’s says of it:

“Absolutely the best Michaelmas daisy, for long display and sheer beauty: does not need staking, and is not affected by mildew. Deserves the best soil and position in the garden.” Its further statistics are: height and spread: 1m x 45cm; conditions: full sun, rich and fertile soil; flowering: Aug | Sep | Oct.

I’m not sure why I planted it in front of the apple tree. That spot does get dappled sun and then full-on glare at the end of the day, but there are much sunnier spots in the garden where it could show itself off to better effect. (Added to the re-do file).

Finally, a view of the a front garden bed, just to show it’s coping with 33 degree C plus days – the achillea ‘Moonshine’ drying on the stem, the allium drumsticks still doing their stuff, Artemisia Powys Castle, very much containing herself alongside a rather weedy apricot coloured Achillea, (Lachsshonheit) which I thought I’d lost, and a young Crocosmia Harlequin (bottom left) about to flower. Background support from Euphorbias, Santolina rosmarinifolia, Pheasant’s Tail grass, and crimson leaved heucheras :

Six on Saturday: For more views of Jim’s fabulous and mindfully curated plant collection.

Six On Saturday: After The Wind And Rain

Come gusts and squalls, the roses have been holding their own. And then, in late afternoon, if we have some sunshine, they tumble luminously over the terrace wall and look glorious come supper time.

The constant wind, though, is tedious. When did England become so never-endingly blustery? I’ve tried searching on line for an answer, but the sites that deal with weather don’t appear to think it remarkable. As someone who has gardened for over half a century, I know we did not have perpetual wind mashing up herbaceous plants and blowing the new runner bean plants off their sticks.

Perhaps it’s to do with ‘the cold blob’ also bizarrely known as North Atlantic Warming Hole, a region of ocean to the south of Greenland that has been cooling over the past century while the surfaces of the earth’s other oceans have been warming up. Scientists have argued over the possible causes, some citing a weakened Atlantic Meridional Overturning Circulation (AMOC), the system that plays a significant role in the earth’s global climate.

Perhaps the AMOC stole our much vaunted heat wave. If it did, many thanks.

And of course there is much to be pleased about.

Bee happy

For one thing there are so many bees in the garden, this after a long quiet spring insect-wise. They definitely approve of the sheep’s bit scabious, harvesting the flowers for ages, which makes them easy to photograph.

In a bind

It’s usually a weed that provokes gardener’s fury, but the large flowered pink and white striped convolvulus that has just re-appeared in our otherwise horrid hedge is a welcome sight. For a bindweed, it is most circumspect in its habits, and only spreads here and there.

An urge for spurge

Another spreader, presently flowering is the pretty, low-growing spurge, Euphorbia cyparissias Fens Ruby. Its stems look like miniature conifers, and the tiny flowers several colours of green and russet. It likes to nudge up picturesquely with other border plants and, in that sense, it is a very weedy entity, but then any excess is easily removed. Here it is with a coppery coloured heuchera.

Reasons to be cheerful 5 and 6

Then there are the self-gardening regulars that seem to return each year, and with ever more flourish. I love these snapdragons. I don’t mind how much they seed themselves. The plants themselves are shrubby and don’t seem to mind the wind and rain. But most of all, their sun-rise shades brighten the dullest day.

Likewise, the campanula. Over the past few years it has colonised many dull and unpromising quarters of the front garden – growing up the hedge, out of concrete walls, and along the path. It flowers its purple-blue socks off.

Here it is improving the looks of the privet hedge that surrounds the front garden borders. It’s another plant that copes brilliantly with weird weather, wet or dry.

Six on Saturday 13 June 2026 Please call in on our host, Jim. As ever, he has some wonderful plants to show us this week.

Raindrops On Roses ~ Six On Saturday

Today it’s more like October than June. We’re back to grey skies, gusty wind and rain between showers. But the Peneloperoses are bearing up, even if their frocks are soaked and their flounces crumpled.

Here’s a photo from earlier in the week during a sudden sunny spell. The plant itself is a tending-tall, rather floppy shrub rose that can be trained as a short climber if you only have a short wall. I’m hoping that in time she will simply arc gracefully down the terrace wall without much in-put from me. She’s already doing her best.

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In the back garden the scabious are just beginning to flower – both the usual herbaceous border version which I bought as large plugs three years ago, but are only now performing, and a Sheep’s Bit variety called Jasione laevis Blue Light, which went in as a young plant last September. Both are presently keeping company with various hardy geraniums, but the Blue Light is already making a pleasing low clump on the border edge near the path.

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Another first-time performer in the garden is the yellow Phlomis russeliana. I bought it because it’s drought tolerant, bee friendly, will bloom all summer and the dead flower heads still look good in winter. Last year, however, it sat out the long drought, and only made big leaves. It’s making up for it this year. I’m thinking that in due course it will need to move to the side wall bed, where it can keep the yellow rudbeckia and helianthus company.

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On the edible front, the globe artichokes are making their presence felt. One of the plants has grown up hugely in a most annoying spot, squashed in between the Polka raspberries and the Jelly King crab apple tree. I know I did grow it from seed but somehow it escaped me during the planting phase and dug itself in. Anyway, the rain has brought it on, and it’s about to be eaten. I usually cut artichokes in half to remove the choke, and then steam them. Halves obviously don’t need so much cooking time as wholes, and it’s easier to see if they’re done. Garlicky butter to serve.

Also in the bottom border is a a purple headed variety. It’s strikingly ornamental growing alongside the sweet white rocket and foxgloves.

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While I was inspecting this end of the garden, which takes some doing, what with the mammoth size of the artichoke leaves, I was pleased to see that the neighbouring old cooking apple tree looks to be bearing far more apples than we were expecting. The blossom came and went so fast in cold and windy weather, it seemed unlikely that much of it would be fertilised. But not so! We don’t know the variety, but the fruits are big and rose blushed and need no sugar when cooked.

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And now back to my new favourite, as mentioned in two recent posts – Cenolophium denudatum, aka Baltic Parsley. Coming up is the version I have already settled in the bed along the top of the terrace wall. It grows rather like Cow Parsley/Queen Anne’s Lace, and indeed it was supposed to be white, according to the Great Dixter Nursery catalogue. Mine, however, turned out to be pink. I don’t mind. It looks good with the valerian whose massed umbels are hint-of-pink white.

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But then yesterday we were having a splendid day out in the walled garden at Wildegoose Nursery in the Corve Valley. And there I found a pale lemony version. It had to come home with me.

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And to finish a shot of Wildegoose walled garden where I discovered it (along with a dozen or three other plants that roused acute spasms of gardener’s greed).

Wildegoose Nursery Walled Garden

Six on Saturday 6 June 2026 Please call in on Jim as he prepares for his garden opening.

Six On Saturday: After The Heat-Wave

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It’s been pretty darn hot this week in Shropshire, but nearly 9 degrees cooler now. On the whole, the garden, the gardener, and the gardener’s other half have weathered the sudden roasting, but the water butts are empty, one or two plants are looking frazzled, and the hot days have finished off the lovely ranunculus which, until last Saturday, had been blooming wonderfully, making the most of the long, cool spring. Also, some flowering plants like the Perry’s Blue iris, came and went very swiftly, while over the hedge, hawthorn tree’s blossom fried. We now have siftings of crisp brown petals everywhere.

One real hot-weather bonus is that the bees (1), worryingly absent earlier in the month, are now back in the garden, feeding voraciously on the hardy geraniums, Welsh poppies and foxgloves. They seem to be making up for lost time.

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In the back garden border the umbels (2) are the rising attraction. I’m always pleased when the valerian starts flowering, but this year it has a companion, one very like it, if more pink and more sweetly scented. Its common name, Baltic Parsley, sounds most unpromising for such an airy, delicate plant, but then this is hugely preferable to its tongue-twister botanical title of Cenolophium denudatum . I bought two young plants on-line last autumn from Great Dixter Nurseries, whose curated collections are altogether too tempting for the ever greedy gardener.

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This year I’ve decided to rein in the vegetable growing (3). Limited space is one factor, but the main reason is not liking all the ugly netting defences needed to keep the pigeons and sparrows from eating everything. I’m still growing herbs, salad stuff, carrots in containers, a couple of rows of potatoes, some strawberries and raspberries, tomatoes in the greenhouse and also beans – all of which don’t need too much if any protection.

For several of the hot days I dithered about whether or not to plant out the large runner bean seedlings. In the end I decided it was better for them in the ground than drying out in their pots. I surrounded them with an emergency mulch of grass cuttings. Our neighbour had kindly just deposited a load over the fence and into our compost bin. I don’t usually use them for mulching, not wanting either crusts or a smelly, squidgy pan, but they soon dried out and the blackbirds have since been turning them over.

Meanwhile on the other side of the garden, the potatoes are looking pretty good. The Charlotte row is thinking of flowering.

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And talking of mulch, my number (4) this week is a shout-out for the benefits of applying Strulch. This is very much for the small-garden gardener who doesn’t have access to masses of home-made compost. It’s a mineralised fine straw that comes in easy-to-move 9 litre bags. Last autumn I bought 2 bags and spread them over the two front garden beds, spots that are both exposed from the north in windy weather, but also sun-traps during heat-waves. There was still enough strulch left over to scatter less generously around some shrubs in the back garden. The stuff is not cheap, but you can find good deals on-line.

Apart from anything else, I’ve hardly had any weeds, and the herbaceous plants are emerging nicely to do their early summer stuff. I covered the entire soil surface, about an inch/2 cms deep.

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From left to right: Helianthemum Wisley White, Astrantia Sparkling Stars middle, Verbascum Lavender Lass front. And a closer look at the Astrantia. Isn’t she lovely?

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Not everything is going so well. Unseen pests (5) have been busy, most notably in the sweet peas, amongst which something, probably pigeons, have been gnawing off whole chunks of stems. For once, I’d grown some pretty chunky plants, and put them out early to grow up obelisks. But once they started growing, large parts began to go missing. I still have some flowers, but it’s not the display envisaged. I’ve never had this problem before, and can’t think how to protect them – i.e. that won’t end up in a big tangle of netting. (Note to self. The obelisks are probably the problem. Ideal perches for pigeons).

The other casualty, one that’s ongoing despite moving the plant to different locations, is the lovely blue-mauve lupin. Something keeps stripping the flowers. One minute they’re there, and the next time I look…

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But to end on a high note, and a deliciously fragrant one too – Cornelia Rose (6). She burst into flower this week. More power to her little pink petals. She’s growing by my greenhouse so I see a lot of her.

Six on Saturday Despite the heat-wave down in Cornwall, host Jim has some spectacular things on show in his garden, to say nothing of the magnificent Poplar moth in the greenhouse.

Six On Saturday: Frigid May

We might have lost the cherry plum over the hedge, but we still have the hawthorn tree (1). Just now it’s a tumble of creamy curds – may blossom in May. It’s a shame there are so few insects about to enjoy it. Even the stalwart bumble bees are scarce, which is worrying. I’m hoping they’ve tucked themselves up somewhere cosy until the Arctic winds have blown themselves out. So far, then, it’s been a very chilly May in Shropshire, and dry too, until these last few days. My water butts were empty, so even as I whinge at the cold wind, I’m pleased that rainwater supplies have resumed.

And spring is still happening in the garden despite the low temperatures. The apple blossom has been and gone, though signs of pollination looking sparse to absent on some of the trees. Now, then, is the time of columbines (2). As ever, they have grown themselves everywhere, including in the horrible hedge where one plant, trying to outdo the holly and privet, has used them for support and grown over four feet tall. It greatly improves the look of the hedge. Size-wise, they are more restrained at the bottom of the garden, but this year have arrived in many colours from white to darkest claret, and shades in between.

I’m also pleased to see some lemon coloured Welsh poppies (3). Last autumn I pocketed seed from a neighbour, and scattered it under the old apple trees. We already had the self-sowing orange ones in the bed above the back terrace. For some reason I’m not too keen on the brassy version. This year, though, they’ve popped up among the Ranunculus. I’m thinking they look rather good together.

The blue flowered hardy geraniums are beginning to open, but the cranesbill Geranium phaeum Album (4) is well ahead. It does sprawl about, but its flowers are so delicate. It is supposed to be shade-loving, but I also have one that seems quite happy in full sun.

And then there’s the rocket (arugula) (5). I’d never thought of it as a flowering plant till this year. All through the winter we were cropping a short row of it. Then, come March, it began to go to seed and I pulled most of it up. And then for some reason I left a clump. Now it’s a tall plant covered in a mass of flowers that seem to go on and on. They have curious, wonky propeller looks about them. I also thought the insects might like them if there were any about. Meanwhile, the bits of greenery down the stems are still perfectly edible, surprisingly mild in flavour. And it’s providing a bit of floral interest in front of my presently empty raised beds.

And to finish, here’s one of my newest plants bought in March. Iris Sibirica ‘Perry’s Blue’ (6) has just begun to flower. I’m rather taken with the startling contrast of the pale lavender with the russet-gold tones ofSpiraea Japonica Firelight. At a distance, as the wind blows, the flowers look like big butterflies.

Six on Saturday 16 May 2026: Please call in on our host Jim. There’s always something new to see in his garden. This week, among other lovely things, he has a gorgeous fern and some self-replenishing corydalis.

Six On Saturday: Here Comes May

Birds (1) are very much on our minds at present. This morning Graham emptied the seed dregs from the bird feeder onto the terrace wall. This invited a flurry of takers: several sparrows, a female blackbird and a wood pigeon. The advice of the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds is to stop feeding garden birds from May to the end of October, this to prevent the likely warm season spread of parasitic disease that’s affecting certain species, especially green finches.

All winter we have put out seeds and fat balls in feeders hidden in the hedge outside the kitchen window. This strategy has kept the jackdaws and pigeons away from the actual feeders, but not deterred the pigeons from scavenging for spilled seed in the hedge bottom. But we’ve otherwise enjoyed watching the regular sparrow visitors, and the not so frequent blackbirds, robins and bluetits.

The other RSPB reason for the feeding halt is to encourage birds to return to natural seasonal eating habits now there is plenty of wild-grown stuff about. We can see their point.

Anyway, now is also the time of year when the birds go in for some irritating garden habits, such as dust bathing around the roots of emerging herbaceous plants, thus compacting the soil and exposing roots (sparrows), or removing the mulch from the borders and tossing it around the paths (blackbirds). I’ve also discovered it’s the sparrows who have been nibbling the Swiss chard and spinach, even through the supposedly protective mesh. So, yes, maybe it is time they frequented fresh dining venues.

Lately I’ve been thinking that the tulips (2) are on the wane, but the unknown variety growing in the terrace wall pot keeps on flowering. Never mind the days and weeks of ferocious wind blowing them horizontal and drying out the pot. On dull days the petals are very upright, but come a spot of sunshine, it’s full-fling abandonment…

Around the garden, the apple trees – eaters and crabs (3) are at various stages of flowering and finishing. In the front garden, the dwarf version of Laura, (a compact and columnar crab apple even when full-sized), has flowered with us for the first time. The crimson blossom is gorgeous against the claret-tinged foliage.

Also in the front garden the Ranunculus bulbs (4) are among the most striking of the bright and early bloomers. They, too, have proved remarkably resilient to being blown off their roots. I planted them last summer at the wrong time, and was surprised when they flowered sporadically during our rainless weeks, and then produced quite a lot of foliage during the winter. Their red-hot shades are looking astonishing between the citrus green of the Euphorbia palustris ‘Walenburg’s Glorie’ and the deep russet heucheras. (That’s a dwarf Evereste crab apple in the middle).

Another early flowering favourite is Phlox divaricata ‘Clouds of Perfume (5). It’s a low-growing, spreading variety, and more than living up to its name beside the front path. Makes me think of parma violet sweets we sometimes had as children, but smells much nicer.

I’m very fond of hardy geraniums and have a number of young plants of several varieties in all the flower beds. The first to flower this year is Geranium phaeum ‘Samobor’ (6). The dusky wine coloured flowers are small, downward facing and all round unspectacular unless you get in close (also very difficult to photograph), but it is the foliage that is the more notable. I’m not sure that I have it in the right spot. It seems to have more woodland inclinations than herbaceous border frontage, but I like the leaves, which look rather good beside the two heucheras whose varieties I’ve forgotten.

Happy gardening, folks, whatever your hemisphere.

Six On Saturday Please visit our host, Jim, in his Cornish garden.