Adam's Garden

The past weeks have witnessed a power struggle between summer and autumn. As the prevailing winds swing round to bring in an icy blast from the north-east it is easy to shrug the shoulders and become resigned to the passing of another season. But then, in a day or two, there is a lull, the skies clear and the summer elbows it's way back onto the stage. This brings the opportunity to relax outside just one more time and sit back in the weakening sunshine, making the most of an unexpected boon.

The mixed signals received by the plants are inducing varied responses. A row of mature acers are always the first to show signs of the advance towards autumn, subtly changing colour from as early as August, and by now the foliage is a displaying a myriad of green and golden hues which will soon become a full autumn mantle. In contrast, the Liquidambar is still growing quickly, putting on soft green shoots. This tree is always the last to form leaves in the spring, not coming out until there is a sustained warm spell, and will only shed them in a fiery blaze at the start of winter. The leaves are not dissimilar in shape to those on the nearby acers, but the bark is much rougher, almost corky, and it likes to grow in damp soil. It was planted several years ago where a spring bubbles out the ground and has thrived since; a plant ideally suited to it's environment. Now if only that would happen more often!

I have spent the last week in a dash to take as many cuttings as possible before it is too late, and have found that an inordinate number of garden plants are putting on soft growth normally associated with the start of the year. The growing conditions seem to be identical to those in early May - cool nights and warm days - the only difference being the day length, and this has set everything off. Late flowering perennials, like some quite garish chrysanthemums, have been delayed by the cooler conditions earlier in the year, and the result is an incongruous mixture of autumn flowering displays alongside summer flowers, spring leaves and even some spring flowers! The broom (Cytisus) puts on a late spring display of cheerful yellow bloom and this year has decided to repeat it in September.

Taking cuttings can at times be slightly disheartening; if the conditions are not quite right they will rapidly keel over and rot. This happens with soft- tissued cuttings, taken from new growth. Some cuttings are taken with semi- ripe or ripe growth, and these are more tolerant because the natural rigidity will hold them up for longer and give a better chance of surviving long enough to form roots. There is only a limited amount of space in the propagator, so I fill this with cuttings for which bottom heat is essential. The rest have gone into my two cold frames, which this year I have moved into a revamped shed in the orchard. This should give them extra protection from the cold at night and a little more warmth in the day, whilst being shielded from direct sunshine which can cause overheating. There is a certain amount of hit-and-miss with cuttings and often more success can be achieved by taking the rough and ready approach of snapping off a piece of the plant and plunging it into the ground. Textbooks usually advise a sharp knife to ensure a clean cut, except in the case of heel cuttings when a small piece of the main stem aids rooting, and often hormone rooting powder is recommended. To cover all options I try a combination of these methods but I am usually lucky to get more than a thirty per cent success rate, except with easy plants like Pelargoniums and Fuchsias. Often I will have a complete failure despite increasing the numbers, but it is satisfying if just one of these problem plants succeeds. Using the massed fire-power approach I managed to get one Potentilla from about thirty cuttings one year, only to be informed by one wise-guy that they were easy to take from cuttings!

The textbooks make great hay of the fact that cuttings are best taken from young, vigorous plants, and I usually endeavour to do so. However this is not always possible and good results can often be obtained if young shoots are used from older specimens. An old Pittosporum tenuifolia yielded a couple of new plants last year, the only survivors from a large batch of cuttings, and now I am in turn using these, which should give me a better success rate.

For the first time this year I have taken some rose cuttings. They are reputedly easy to succeed with and can be done simply by inserting a piece of stem into a prepared bed. I have decided to use pots instead and have them in the shed, which is not as warm the greenhouse but still has plenty of light. Rosa filipes 'Kiftsgate' is a vigorous rampant climber with a million white blooms and well worth growing, so I took one piece of ripe stem and two shoots tips eight inches in length. I generally mix compost and perlite for cuttings, and to this I added some soil (in order to simulate an outdoor bed!) and the cuttings were inserted to a depth of two inches. Initially the softer shoots drooped, but already these have recovered and after two weeks all is well. Climbing and rambling roses are, I am told, the easiest to grow from cuttings. I am experimenting with another two kinds, one a miniature bush, the other a rambler, and if these are successful I shall try more varieties next year.

Last year I had no luck with Photinia x. fraseri 'Red Robin', a slow growing ornamental shrub with bronze young leaves, so have tried once again. Similarly, the Parrotia persica, or persian ironwood tree, was a failure , and although it sometimes feels a bit futile to continue with the exercise it is worth trying new methods. This time round I have put extra grit into the compost, and it may be worth applying a little warmth at night with a fan heater. Hebes grow well here, and are easy to root from cuttings. Consequently there is now quite a collection here, the latest addition being 'Nicola's Blush', a compact bush with pale pink and white flower spikes. Hebes are equally at home in containers and borders, and not at all prone to pests and diseases - a true gardeners friend. A single cutting will produce a good size plant after one season which makes them ideal for gifts, particularly the variegated varieties which look good even without the flowers.

If summer keeps the whip hand for just another week or two, rooted cuttings can be moved into the greenhouse to put on some growth. Soon the first frosts will arrive and tomatoes will have to give way for tender perennials needing winter quarters; the metronome of the seasons continues and the gardening calendar moves on inexorably towards a denouement of mists and mellow fruitfulness. It has been an unpredictable summer. I wonder what is to follow.

You can find more articles in the archive under Soiled Hands.

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