October in the Garden - Season of Mists and Mellow Fruitfullness

Sunday 11th October, 2020

When I woke this morning, I thought about the subtle shift of season that has happened in the last few days. Late Summer, where we have enjoyed some beautiful soft September days, has morphed almost imperceptibly into early Autumn. 

I find it hard to define the nature of the shift. We have not yet reached clocks turning back, so it is not so much a question of day length....just, well, something’s changed. A different smell in the air, perhaps? A hint of woodsmoke and damp leaves as they are just starting to fall. A drop in temperature. Reds, oranges and golds are appearing in nature’s palette more strongly and, well, perhaps it’s the light. I lay in bed trying to think of the benefits of the season and the first thing that came to mind was the Autumn mists....

And so it was with quiet delight that I pulled back the curtains on Sunday morning and was greeted by the most sublime view of mist tickling the hillside, it’s nebulous fingers retreating back down even as I watched, the sun gently burning them off as it rose upwards in the sky towards the dramatic beauty of the escarpment which encircles the valley.  

I came downstairs in my dressing gown to make a cup of tea and instead found myself pulling on wellyboots and going outside to savour the joys of the early morning garden when all is quiet and still before the day kicks off or goes to pot. 

We have a south-facing garden with lots of mature trees, many planted in Victorian times, yet many of which simply developed where the seed fell. It is these trees which create the majesty. 

The garden slopes up away from the house which is well set down, so it is the height of the trees which is imperative to draw the eye up. It is here that all the main interest of the garden lies - in its skyline. Yet, of course, mature trees surrounding a garden can cause issues with regard to light and, like all plants, they need to be tended to from time to time. And so it was that just two days earlier, the tree surgeons had been in to complete stage 2 of the work they have been doing for me which involved taking out two large conifers and reducing holly hedges and the rhododendron hedge which lies at the back of my vegetable patch and has grown up over the years stealing all the much-needed light from the raised beds. I was keen to go out on such a beautiful morning and see where the sunlight was now reaching after some of these obstacles and been removed....

The big old sycamore in the right of the picture used to be crowded out by an overgrown conifer which also blocked southerly sunlight, shadowed the lawn and obscured the view.

The lower branches of the holly and self-seeded sycamores have been cleared here to open up one of my favourite vistas. 

More light is creeping into the dell having removed or lowered hedges to the left and right of its boundaries.

Morning sun now filters through to the left hand side of the bank having removed the conifer from beside the sycamore (previous photo), catching the red of the small acer and making it glow.

Some low branches of one of the giant sycamores have been removed to allow more light into this border and to afford more of a vista through to the landscape beyond.

The majesty of aged trees. Here a group of sycamores. Such beautiful branch formations.

A large conifer of no particular merit and an oversized laurel hedge which had grown around it have been removed to reveal the beauty of the Douglas Fir and the Monkey Puzzle while simultaneously allowing a new vista to open up into the dell. The laurel hedge to the right of the Monkey Puzzle will be reduced in height to set it off even better. 

To the right of the Douglas Fir there used to be another large conifer of no particular merit which we have also taken down to allow more light into the dell, and now the sky has also been opened up to allow a vista back the other way which was previously blocked.

Here a large ash fell down in one of the winter storms. The size of the cut rings demonstrates its age. Plenty more wood for the fires now! The lower branches of the yew were also removed and a dodgy sycamore on the opposite bank which was hit by the fallen ash has also been taken out. 

The rhododendron ponticum hedge at the back of the vegetable patch has been reduced by half to allow in much-needed light and air and also allows another vista of the hillside and trees beyond to be opened up and enjoyed.

I can safely say that this year, like so much else, was a miserable one for me in the vegetable garden! At the start of Lockdown with all that lovely weather, I had high hopes that, for once, I would be here to tend my garden and harvest the fruits of my labours. So what went wrong?

In truth, I’m not quite sure! I think I got over-excited by that early warm patch in March and decided to plant seeds directly into my raised borders rather than laboriously potting up. We went from drought to flood and back again, none of which are conducive to good growth habits. I struggle to get water to the vegetable patch when there is drought, and when there is flood, especially with the lower temperatures we suffer from up in our hills, and not enough light, then nothing germinates or flourishes. Thus I planted beetroot, radishes, peas and beans and a number of other things which I have long since forgotten about, with no return whatsoever! In fact the only things that flourished this year were the red currants, the black currants, the blueberries, the gooseberries, the raspberries - and now the apples! Fruit, in other words. Irritatingly, despite Covid complications, I still managed to escape to Greece and France at just the wrong times to benefit properly from some of these fruits - but the escape was much-need food for the soul, if not the belly. 

Autumn Raspberries follow up the main early summer crop.

Newton Wonder - a very hardy tree whose apples can be eaters or cookers.

Our small James Grieves tree has produced about 14 delicious apples this year - hardly a bumper crop but not bad for a tiny tree!