Monday 23 February 2015

some live and some die

There are a lot of brambles growing in the meadow down the side of the wood, probably more than I let myself realise.  The high tide mark at which attempts at gardening largely stop, other than mowing the grass once in a while, ebbs and flows closer to the house and further away, depending on the weather, how energetic I'm feeling, and what else I'm trying to do.  The past two or three years have seen a lot of catch-up required in the main garden, to make good the losses of two very cold winters (by recent standards) and one insanely wet one, and I've retrenched in the meadow, scarcely touching it.

It's not all bad news.  Some shrubs have finally got their roots down and made generous growth in the past couple of seasons, various hollies that were sad and wispy specimens for years shooting up and plumping out.  The circle of yew trees is more than head height, though in bad need of shaping and de-brambling, a couple of berberis are doing well, and some of the roses, while a Hypericum 'Hidcote' that went in as a wee and weedy plant is now large, round and fat.

But against this there have been losses, and there'll be more unless I get the brambles out.  They have just reached that stage where a loose tangle of exploratory branches is about to turn into an impenetrable thicket.  Bracken is invading from the wood as well, which is equally smothering, and a nuisance since it has running roots.  At least with brambles you can take a pickaxe to the core, if they're too well established to pull out, but there's nothing to do about bracken except pull it and pull it again.

The looming deadline is down to the bird nesting season.  I've got a couple of weeks, maybe three in the less densely infested areas, to chop down the top growth before the birds start building, and work has to stop until the autumn.  And by then I'm not averse to leaving things until I'm sure I won't disturb a wasp nest, for my own sake rather than that of the wasps.  I can work on digging out the roots at my leisure (chance would be a fine thing), or rather do as much as I can when I have time until the ground gets too hard, if it's a dry summer.  But clearing the thickets can't go on much longer.

I keep coming upon the long and shiny shoots of a rambling rose.  It is supposed to be 'Ethel', a cheerful pink double I saw and fell for at East Ruston Old Vicarage, but until I see it flower I won't know if it is 'Ethel' or her rootstock.  She wasn't looking well the last time I saw her.  She is meant to be climbing up a fallen but still growing oak tree, but doesn't seem to think much of that, preferring to make a break out towards the sunlit central patch of grass.  I am leaving chopping the rose shoots until I arrive at the root, and see quite what's going on.  Perhaps I can poke some of the long shoots into the tree.  I've got an 'Albertine' on its own roots languishing in the greenhouse, that was a present from a friend and I'm not entirely sure what to do with.  I'm not sure that 'Ethel' and 'Albertine' would make a happy combination, or if the strong pink of 'Ethel' would overshadow the other.  But the long shoots may not be 'Ethel' anyway.

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