Old Nick’s porridge

If there was a plant star of the show at Chelsea this year the award must go to Cow parsley, Anthriscus sylvestris. This didn’t so much sneak its way into just about every garden as proudly proclaim itself a key part of those schemes in which it appeared. On the television coverage designers like Andy Sturgeon could be heard extolling the virtues of the ‘umbellifer’ – basically a big carrot. In the kitchen garden dill, fennel and angelica all fall into this group, although it’s not a genetic classification but a description of how the plant holds its flowers; in ‘umbels’ (an umbrella-like structure). Cow parsley is similarly classified, and while the posh red version Anthriscus sylvestris ‘Raven’s Wing’ was in evidence, it was the humble species which we know from our country lanes and hedgerows that seemed most popular, and with good reason. Six weeks ago, clumps of delicate, fern-like foliage could be seen nestling on the ground, glowing lush green in the damp undergrowth where they’ve been bulking up since last year (Cow parsley is a biennial). Then seemingly overnight, aided by record rainfall and then unseasonable sunshine, the plants achieved a height of about a metre, sometimes more, topped with a froth of delicate, creamy white flowers.

Would I plant it in my garden? I might, if I had a large expanse of naturalistic meadow planting. In its favour, it’s native, and rather beautiful. But it can be something of a thug both being a prodigious self-seeder and possessing the ability to reproduce through a spreading rhizome system. It will also hybridize with other members of the carrot family, so if you grow dill or fennel, for example, you will need to sow fresh seed from a trusted source every year in order to keep the plants true to type. In a smaller garden I might be inclined to use something like Bishop’s Weed, Ammi majus, to achieve a similar effect.

Being a native plant it has a host of common names (see here on the excellent seedaholics website for a full list), among them Wild chervil, Lady’s needlework or Queen Anne’s Lace (also a common name for Ammi majus). But my favourites are Devil’s parsley and Naughty man’s oatmeal.

Adding a frothy element to Andy Sturgeon’s Chelsea garden

Main image copyright © fionaandneill, on Flickr.

RHS Chelsea Flower Show 2012

The sun came out for Chelsea this week, baking hot on Tuesday when I visited the show on the day the medals were announced.

There was a tremendous amount going on, and it was good to see an awareness of the the environmental impact of gardening, with a noticeable emphasis this year on water conservation, drought tolerant plant selection and naturalistic styles of planting, although it was evident from overheard comments that, to a significant number of onlookers, the designers’ painstaking attempts to recreate romantic meadow effects were often interpreted as patches of weeds – “there’s a bit like that in my garden behind the shed!”. I thought it was rather lovely, but that’s the challenge for the garden designer keen to promote this aesthetic with all its environmental, bee-friendly worthiness, when many clients just want things to look neat. And there’s nothing wrong with that.

Notable also was a consideration of how we can green the urban landscape, with suggestions for even the smallest of spaces and, while there was undoubtedly some very impressive design and plantsmanship in evidence in the larger gardens, it was the small details which were more interesting for me than the broad sweep; how different designers use various materials, and observing the points at which they interact. The more modestly proportioned artisan gardens were a rich source of inspiration – not least because they demonstrated how much can be achieved in a small plot, and with increased demand on our space from housing fewer of us have large, or even moderately sized gardens any more – as can be readily appreciated when looking at the garden of an average new build home.

The Brewin Dolphin garden

Throughout there was a wonderful mix of the formal and informal, best in evidence in Cleve West’s garden for Brewin Dolphin which deservedly won him Best in Show for the second year running. Here he mixed formal elements such as yew topiary, stone gate pillars, and beech hedging, with a less disciplined side represented in the beautifully lush, detailed herbaceous planting. Similarly Arne Maynard’s garden for Laurent Perrier used his trademark copper beech – here in the form of a pleached hedge – as a stately component of the space against which his riotous lower level planting in shades of pinks and silver could frolic. Not noted for my love of roses, I was nonetheless completely smitten by the low mounds of Rosa ‘Reine des Violettes’ trained over hazel supports. Chris Beardshaw’s Furzey Gardens demonstrated that it is possible to create a harmonious, peaceful and lush space using rhododendrons and a variety of ericaceous plants. Wonderful stuff.

More pictures of Chelsea 2012 can be seen on our Facebook page.

You don’t know Jack

Garlic mustard, or Jack in the Hedge (Alliaria petiolata), glowing white and emerald green following a downpour. It’s everywhere at the moment. Find it popping up alongside pavements and in the hedgerows, obviously loving the wet weather and growing away quite vigorously, although not as uncontrollably as in North America where, following its introduction for culinary use in the nineteenth century, it’s become an invasive pest. Like the nettle which it superficially resembles – and in whose company it can often be found – it has a square stem, but the emergence of the vertically-held seed pods after the flowers point towards its true placement in the brassica family, reminding me of canola (the rapeseed plant), a solitary specimen of which occasionally escapes from the fields and appears in similar locations. I’ve yet to introduce it to my own herb patch, or anyone else’s garden for that matter, but I wouldn’t rule it out in the creation of a wild, naturalistic effect, perhaps in the company of cow parsley and a deadnettle or two.