Driving here from London in the middle of the month, I was hit by storms again. The main roads were virtually impassable and the lanes had turned into small rivers. The churning waters of the river Wye looked like an angry cauldron of muddy-brown soup. In the valleys, although many of the trees retained their golden-ochre leaves, the skeleton of the landscape was again becoming apparent beneath the softness of it’s summer clothing. That night, there was a tremendous thunderstorm and a weather front, apparently no wider than a few miles across, passed directly over the hills and through ‘Green Valley’. The electricity was cut off and the sound of the raindrops was almost deafening. It was no ordinary rain: it was more like large hailstones. The newly created waterfall in the wooded dell below the kitchen became a raging torrent again, sweeping heaps of living branches and dead wood into strange sculptural drifts all along its course.
My plan had been to plant out some spring flowering bulbs in the woodlands but the ground was so boggy and slippery that it was impossible. On the terrace, the baby lavender bushes, magnolia, peonies and roses were looking all but drowned. I would have to add more grit to the soil in these beds to prevent them from becoming waterlogged. For the first time, it really hit me that I was dealing with extremes of climate almost on a monthly basis. Every few weeks there are high winds, floods, unexpectedly hot spells or untimely snow and hailstorms. The snow in October had killed my precious cuttings of the rather tender Lavandula dentata which I had left outside along with other rooted cuttings which I was carefully nurturing. From now on, I am going to research flood resistant shrubs and bulbs and all those types of plants which can withstand extremes of temperature and climate, like trees that will bend and not break in a gale. Gardening in ‘Green Valley’ has become a challenge of dealing with erratic weather conditions of an uncertain nature.
Still, I am determined I will find an opportunity to put in my spring bulbs: Fritillaria meleagris thrive in damp meadows and boggy conditions, as do camassias; most snowdrops and narcissus are hardy enough too, although I am worried about my miniature species tulips which prefer a free draining soil. They will rot in the ground if this wet weather persists. I have decided that I am going to feed and mulch all the soil around the shrubs that I planted in September to give them an extra boost. The mulch will help to keep down the weeds and gradually lighten and break up the soil which tends towards clay here, and retains too much moisture. The correct soil composition is becoming critical under these extreme climate conditions.