Early this month I planted a broad selection of trees and shrubs at the back of the herbaceous borders and in the south-east corner of the garden. In the east, I planted several camellias, azaleas and rhododendrons to eventually form a kind of screen, although the views to the mountains on this side are breathtaking and it would be a pity to block this vista entirely. To form a backdrop to the herbaceous border on the south side, I chose those kind of trees and shrubs that can tolerate a sunny position but also some exposure to cold wind and damp: the lovely blue-leaved Eucalyptus gunnii (which will put up with anything); the unique, prehistoric Maidenhair tree, Ginkgo biloba (which has survived a couple of ice ages); several types of ceanothus including the dark blue ‘Concha’; and a group of the striking shrub Callicarpa bodinieri giraldii which has a mass of dramatic tiny violet-purple berries in the middle of winter. Apparently, the berry production is much improved when several of these shrubs are planted together. I also put in a large magnolia tree, which I had bought at a cut down price because the nursery couldn’t identify it, as well as several other smaller evergreen shrubs and groundcover plants, such as periwinkle and spreading geraniums. I am looking forward to seeing what the magnolia flowers look like in spring so I can try and identify the tree.
Later in September, there was an unbelievable event. A storm blew up bringing such heavy rain clouds that it created a sudden cloud burst which decimated the landscape of the entire valley in a few hours. The narrow mountain stream, which flowed through the wooded dell beside the farmhouse, turned into raging torrent, carving out the sides of the gulley to the width of a B road overnight. It dislodged massive boulders creating a landslip at one point, and then piled up heaps of rocks and branches casually creating a small waterfall beneath the house; and where there had been a small dip in the stream the previous day, there was now an uneven watery beach of grey pebbles. That afternoon, a seventeen-year old girl died in a four-wheel drive in a neighbouring valley trying to cross a similar stream in flood.
The usually shallow river at the bottom of the meadow valley became more like an estuary whose waves washed away the bridge that had been standing for the past forty years and reinvented the entire landscape in a matter of minutes. There had been a kind of small natural lake in one the meadows bordered by bulrushes: but where was it now? The flood of rainwater off the fields above ‘Green Valley’ had also turned my driveway into an instant riverbed, the waters of which surged past the corner of the farmhouse, through the courtyard and against the walls and doors of the barn. Luckily, my daughter and her boyfriend who were staying were able to quickly build a flood defence from stone and sheets of plastic, which had been left by the builders, and protect the buildings from any real damage. Nevertheless, sandbags had to be used at the entrance of the drive for several days to re-divert the continued water draining off from the fields.
In the longer term, I will have to insert extra and sturdier drainage systems into the drive as well as a few ‘sleeping policemen’ by the gate to channel any water away from the buildings in the future. The impact and effects of climate change are beginning to become very real and very immediate!