This corner of Beth Tarling’s shed is being used to dry flowers and seed heads for decoration.

Gloriously shambolic, this shed was built with recycled doors, windows and scrap timber.

The shady and cool interior of Louise and Fergus Dowding’s garden shed is used to house a terracotta pot collection

An old shepherd’s hut used as a hideaway in Annie Stanford’s Somerset cottage garden.

A horde of found objects, dusty paraphernalia and cobwebs in Julia Thyer’s shed in Somerset.

The boom is now in it’s second print run and ia available through good bookshops, and of course through Amazon. If you’d like a copy of it signed, please contact me through my website and I can post it through, with an inscription of your choice… thanks for reading and looking, and happy gardening! Mark

Not sure whether it’s just me, I suspect not, but the beginning of the month in my miniscule ‘potting shed’ is a riot of seed packets, last years seed trays (mostly cracked and caked in mud), spiders webs everywhere and tools that need either replacing or taking to the ‘dump’. Where I probably got them in the first place. I obviously don’t take the advice I so carefully give out in my own book, ‘A New Cottage Garden’ (just in case I haven’t mentioned it before), and didn’t spend the requisite number of hours scraping, cleaning and sharpening during the winter months! However, its the most fantastic summer month, still full of hope and excitement for all the new growth, and even a bit of warmth in the air.

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As the month wears on, the trays have filled with tiny seedlings (and some not so tiny… I planted some ‘American Giant’ sunflowers in pots, and they turned out to be… well, GIANT!). Now there is nowhere to put them all! I have a small plant stall outside the house, and the holiday-makers that visit our village, and even the pub-goers that crawl back from the Pigs Nose Inn, grab a few on their way home… it keeps me in coffee and wine.

As we all know, a cottage garden is meant to be crammed with flowers, herbs, even vegetables, and this has its great benefits (lots of flowers to cut, lettuce to eat, fewer spaces for unwanted plants to creep in), but the disadvantage is that there’s nowhere to put the sunflowers, Ammi majus, Cornflowers and Sweet Peas that I have so diligently sown and nurtured!

Oh, I forgot, I was interviewed by the excellent Toby Buckland on BBC Radio Devon; thanks to him for being enthusiastic about the aforementioned book, available here on Amazon, or over on my website if you want a signed copy. Thanks all, and happy gardening!

I hope you enjoyed this free post, and if so, please do subscribe and share.

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The book can be bought from Amazon, OR if you’d like a personalised and signed copy, you can get one through my website here. Thanks! and here is a little preview;

What actually is a cottage garden? Historically, it seems the term first arose in literature in around the mid eighteenth century, and then, as the lot in life of the peasant worker changed and slowly got better, the idea of the romantic ‘cottage garden’ developed and was changed further and became as much a ‘style’ as a fact. What had been a place where poor labourers grew their own food, their own ‘medicines’ and their own decorative flowers, became eventually a lifestyler choice. Essentially though, the cottage garden was, and still is, ‘a plot of one’s own’, filled with flowers and vegetables, useful and productive, a place to potter and a place to relax. It’s usually a smallish plot, characterised by a jumble of simple plants that fill the space in an undesigned way; there are no rules, there is no pomposity and anyone can do it. It’s haphazard, homespun and humble. There will likely be recycled and reclaimed features, a mixture of simple flowers, some annual and some perennial, vegetables, herbs, climbers and wild flowers. It will probably have a romantic feel, some hidden corners, a higgledy-piggledy path, a pond, and some rustic plant supports. The shed will be filled with saved seeds, old tools and a pile of terracotta pots. It’s a haven for wildlife and it’s a haven for the gardener, somewhere to escape the daily grind and get your hands dirty.

A view from inside Beth Tarling’s potting shed, looking at her wonderful cottage garden in summer

So then, let’s look at the history of the cottage garden. In mediaeval times, the workers on large agricultural estates were housed in virtually hovel-like cottages that had a tiny patch of land on which the ‘peasants’ would grow a selection of herbs and vegetables. The diet of these peasants was rudimentary, and meat, which was more than likely beyond their reach, was replaced by a narrow range of vegetables. During Elizabethan times, availability of vegetables increased, and the cottager even started growing flowers, sometimes to mask the smells of daily life, but also for pleasure. Hollyhocks and Sweet Williams, for instance, became popular. As the eighteenth century approached, migrants from Europe bought in new types of plants, including different vegetables and a greater range of flowers. These migrants had hybridised plants to improve their form and performance, and as a result, particularly in the North of England, competitive showing of these saw the beginnings of the village flower and produce shows. ‘Florist societies’ were common, with cottagers competing for best Polyanthus, Pink or Pansy.

Sweet williams (Dianthus barbatus) and Foxgloves (Digitalis purpurea) at Bowhay House, my own garden

At the end of the eighteenth century, the ‘rural idyll’ began to gain traction with romantic poets and artists who moved away from increasingly dirty cities. Wordsworth and Coleridge filled their cottage gardens with foxgloves and buttercups and began swapping seeds with their neighbours, and it was these artists and writers to whom we owe much of our ‘cottage garden’ tradition.

By the mid nineteenth century, William Morris, another artist of great renown, had eschewed grimy industrial city life and set up home in the countryside. He was an environmentalist, a gardener, a designer and a poet, and he was a forerunner of the ‘back to nature’ movement. His designs are still popular today and his garden at The Red House, his first country garden, was a series of small garden rooms, filled with climbers and scented flowers. In other words a set of connecting ‘cottage gardens’.

Then we come to William Robinson and Gertrude Jekyll, as formidable a pair of gardeners as you could imagine. These two did more to establish and modernise the idea of the cottage garden than anyone. Up until this point during the Victorian period, the prominent style of gardening was a formal one, with bedding planted each year, in rows, with garish colours and uniform height. These large beds would perhaps be punctuated with ‘focal point’ of tender and exotic plants. The whole show needed lots of labour (planting out in rows, deadheading, then ripping it all out in autumn) and it needed greenhouses to bring on the bedding early. William Robinson in particular, hated this style of gardening and along with Gertrude Jekyll, the pair were instrumental in revitalising the idea of the ‘cottage garden’, the complete flipside of the bedding plant gardens. William had been trained in formal horticulture, but had quickly rebelled and his brilliantly practical and enthusiastic championing of the ‘wild garden’ through his books and magazine articles revolutionised gardening. He loved wild plants, bulbs, climbers and self seeded annuals, and believed that gardens should be much more reflective of nature and the natural landscape. The garden he made at Gravetye Manor is a mecca for cottage gardeners and students of gardening history. He oversaw a return to the use of perennials, to give structure and longevity to a border, amongst which he allowed self seeded annuals to appear. And he planted thousands of bulbs, including 100,000 daffodils planted alongside one of the lakes at Gravetye in 1897. His two most important books, ‘The Wild Garden’ and ‘The English Flower Garden’ cemented his reputation.

Gravetye Manor gardens in September, its glorious tiled summer house surrounded by billowing late summer borders.

He first met Gertrude Jekyll in 1875 and they had a close friendship and professional association for over 50 years. He helped her with her garden at Munstead Wood (well worth a visit); and she provided many of the plants for his garden at Gravetye Manor. Robinson’s reputation cannot be overstated. His prolific (and vehement!) writing and above all, the garden that he built at Gravetye, are testament to his standing as the father of the modern cottage garden. The garden is now watched over by the brilliant Tom Coward, who has taken over and modernised the garden, adding new planting and more modern varieties, such as tender salvias, persicaria, Helianthus ‘Lemon Queen’, Dahlia ‘Magenta Star’ and Kniphofia rooperi. He has also given the kitchen garden a makeover, much of which is used in the restaurant of the Gravetye Manor Hotel.

Tom Coward has taken on the job of head gardener at Gravetye Manor, following in the footsteps of William Robinson

Gertrude Jekyll became one of the most famous and lauded of all garden designers, and alongside the hundreds of gardens she made, she wrote a thousand or so articles for eminent magazines. She was particularly known for the colours she wove in to her borders, the hard landscaping she used to show off the plants, but also for the craftsmanship that she placed enormous emphasis on. She designed gardens for the new wealthy middle-class based on what she had seen as she grew up; small thatched cottages, with climbers around the door, and borders stuffed with flowering plants, including annuals, biennials, bulbs and, of course, roses. She organised the colours though, and importantly she mixed plants with different flowering periods to ensure non-stop bloom from spring till autumn.

As we enter the twentieth century, the story of the cottage garden continues at East Lambrook Manor, and it’s owner, another formidable plantswoman, Marjery Fish. During the late 1930’s, Marjery and her husband arrived in a small village in Somerset from London, and they set about making a new garden around their old manor house. A novice gardener, Marjery went on to become one of the great plants people of the twentieth century, using her two acre plot to save many traditional cottage garden plants, and breed many new ones as well. There are numerous plants that bear her name, or that of her home, such as Penstemon ‘Marjery Fish’ and Euphorbia ‘Lambrook Gold’, and the nursery at East Lambrook is well known for it’s variety of cottage garden favourites. The garden is a collection of small ‘rooms’ all held together with a tapestry densely planted herbaceous perennials, ground cover and self seeding annuals. The borders are underplanted with bulbs, and there is a particularly fine show of snowdrops in February.

There is a particularly fine show of snowdrops these days at East Lambrook Manor, one of the great twentieth century cottage gardens.

As the second world war ended and a new austerity set in in post war Britain, Marjery realised that gardening on a domestic scale needed to be more ‘low maintenance’ and she found that a good hardy perennial almost looked after itself. So, an informal cottage garden, mixing the old classics with some new modern plants was born. Gardens such as Hidcote and Sissinghurst were already using the cottage garden style, but Margery’s development was different because of its domestic scale. It allowed visitors to easily understand what she was doing and how it could relate to their own garden. A visit to her garden, which has been developed further by the current owner Mike Werkmeister, is a joy in early summer, the crooked paths that wind through the borders are spilled over and colonised by Geraniums, Penstemons, Salvias and Nepeta. The air is full of scent and the sound of bees. Margery’s legacy is truly deserved and even though is has an old fashioned air to it, with the hamstone 16th century manor catching the sun and billowing planting softening the clipped yews, it’s also a truly modern garden. The plant nursery is bustling, and the tea house is filled with contented tea drinkers.

East Lambrook Manor during early summer; blurred edges, soft planting and the warmth of old stone.

As we come into modern times, the cottage garden still thrives and the uncertain times we live in has given it new life. The return to nature, the desire for a cosy home and a productive garden, and above all the need to escape the wall to wall social media and rolling news has led to a resurgence in gardening; getting out in to the garden, feeling the soil between your hands and sun on your face is greatly beneficial to us all, from a physical, and mental health viewpoint. I can think of no better way to start the day, or finish for that matter, than planting seeds, weeding a border or deadheading a rose. And whether you do that in a cottage garden, a tiny backyard, or even on a windowsill, is irrelevant. Try it!

A New Cottage Garden is available from good bookshops and from Amazon. If you’d like a signed copy, I can help out with that, please email me with your details. Thanks for reading!

Harry Holding’s wonderful work for the Eden Project Garden

Here’s my take on this years show, not really of much importance, but here goes; as always, and some of the design is exquisite (Patrick Clarke’s design for the Childrens Society was number one photogenic space, IMHO); I thought the King/David Beckham/Frances Tophill did a good job with the RHS garden (not judged as usual); lots of nice ‘homely’ and easily achievable ideas for gardeners (and lovely dried flowers by Bex Partridge).

Patrick Clarke’s design for the Children’s Society

Frances Tophill’s work for the RHS/Kings garden

I loved Darren Hawkes’s design for the ‘Lady Garden’ (!?), fabulous colours and naturalistic planting, and Arit Anderson’s garden for Parkinsons UK was very atmospheric beneath the Plane trees that dappled the early (6am) sunlight.

Arit Anderson’s garden for Parkinsons UK

Darren Hawkes in the ‘Lady Garden’

Away from the main show gardens, in the always-interesting woodland area, Martha Krempel designed a lovely ‘Composers Cabin’ with stylish furniture by ‘Perennials’ and some wonderful house plants, and there were an array of brilliant ‘balcony and container’ gardens that are always worth a shot or two. There are always some great stalls to check out (actually they are hardly ‘stall’…. more like upmarket fabulously beautiful ‘pop-ups’), and I always have a look at Adrian Gray’s balanced stones… truly remarkable and reassuringly expensive … how does he do it? a wonder of the world indeed.

Martha Krempels work on the ‘Composers Cabin’

Adrian Gray’s phenomenal work

The show itself opens to us photographers at 530 am, but was filled very quickly with influencers and celebrities. It seems that the golden days of old, when photographers and film crew were able to wander at random, and unhindered by crowds, are over. Group tours of obviously ‘important’ people were streaming around the show ground before breakfast and it soon became very difficult to even get to the edge of the show gardens, let alone find a space to point our lenses at! Thats a bit of a ‘gripe’ but apart from that, its such a priviledge to be allowed in, so I am always grateful.

Adrian Gray, stone balancer, Stella and Malcolm of Hare Spring Cottage, and Martha Krempel.

I always have a wander around the plant tent (sorry, I meant ‘The Great Pavilion’) ;-) and star of the show in my opinion was the brilliant Hare Spring Cottage Plants exhibit. With a classic soft top Morris Minor at its centre, the planting around was thrilling; informal and cottage style, the plants are TOP quality as they always are, and Stella and Malcolm are the perfect hosts. And they live near me…

and lastly, one of the main reasons some of us photographers go to shows like this is because its one of the only occasions each year that we get to meet up. I’ve been friends with some of these people for 25 years or more, and this is an opportunity for us to discuss new gear, talk about our year ‘so far’ and generally moan about the state of everything. We used to have a great breakfast at about 10 am, after having worked for 4 hours, it was a good opportunity to relax. Unfortunately we no longer do that, and half of us have ‘gone missing’ over the intervening years, but we still get to say ‘hi’ in passing, crashing in to each others tripods, and generally shooting the breeze….

here area couple of crumpled garden photographers (myself and Clive ‘naughty’ Nicholls) alongside the marvellous Martha Krempel… a rose between two thorns perhaps.

And by the way, NO I didn’t photograph the gnomes… I couldn’t find them ;-)

In the upper terraced gardens, clipped yew hedges frame colourful herbaceous borders that cascade gently towards an orangery. And at the heart of the garden lies an elegant fountain ‘court’, an Italianate design introduced in the 1920s, where shimmering water, classical statues, hidden grottoes, and fragrant roses combine to create an atmosphere of timeless romance. It is this reserved and relaxed beauty that makes Mapperton renowned as one of West Dorset’s most romantic gardens.

Further down the valley, the formality of the terraces softens into a more natural landscape. Two long ponds trace the course of the stream through the valley, surrounded by specimen trees and shaded woodland walks within the arboretum. These lower gardens offer a cooler, quieter contrast to the sunlit terraces above, and there are panoramic views across the rolling Dorset hills and surrounding woodland.

I was lucky enough to photograph early in the morning, with the low sun emphasising the shape and structure of this fabulous garden; side lighting always helps when shooting shape and form, and the earlier in the morning (or later in the day, depending on the aspect of the garden) then the softer the shadows that give the ‘moulding’ of the shapes.

Worth a visit at any time of year, the gardens are open from March till october;

• Monday to Thursday: 10am – 4pm

• Sunday: 11am – 4pm

• Closed Fridays and Saturdays (except for special events)

The estate is currently owned and run by the Earl and Countess of Sandwich, Luke Montagu, and his wife Julie Montagu, who manage and restore Mapperton as a family home and visitor destination. They also have a brilliant YouTube channel here. Many thanks to them for letting me in!

The full set of images are available to license from me, and are viewable here in my garden feature library.

I have staked the stately Angelica and placed protective plant supports around the burgeoning Lupins and Sweet Rocket. The ‘green fuse’ of plant power is everywhere to be seen in the borders, so much so, that all the new growth needs a bit of support. Most vigorous of all is the grass in the paths that intersect the garden. I am trying out ‘no-mow’ May, and have left about twelve inches along each side of the paths where I will allow the grass and flowers to grow unfettered for a month or so. Already I have been bowled over by that most simple and of flowers, the common daisy. It’s everywhere in the grass, alongside clover and dandelions, it’s perfect little face beaming up at me. No fussy leaves, just a rosette of greenery with the simplest of sturdy stalks that support a flower with white petals radiating from a butter yellow centre. The bees love it (as they do Dandelions and Clover too), and it makes you think, why do the stripey lawn brigade hate it so? We have lost ninety seven percent of all our wildflower meadows in the last fifty years, and gardens in the UK area of land that could, and does, help with a massive loss in ecological diversity. I’d rather see, and hear, the insects and watch the so called ‘weeds’ thrive than have a ‘perfect’ striped lawn!

Sicilian honey-bells or Allium siculum just about to burst in to flower, and in bloom on a dewy morning.

Some of the the tulips are still, just about, hanging on, and aside from any odd colour combinations, a result of the random planting in the borders of last year’s potted bulbs, they bring a tall and welcome burst of early summer colour, above wafts of frothy forget me nots. The Camassia leichtlinii that are planted beneath the bird box (which has already hosted one set of new Blue Tits) are just flowering, and I can see that the crab apple I planted last autumn is clothed in acid green new foliage. Dotted around the garden are gangs of welsh poppies mixed amongst Alliums galore. In fact, many more Alliums than I remember planting! The Sicilian Honey-Bells (Allium siculum) are looking ready to burst out, and if I had to choose just one plant to shoot at this time of year, it could well be this one. It’s a slightly mad looking plant with fabulous little bell shaped flowers on top of an incongruously skinny stem. The colour is an unusual mix of a pale purple and green, and to add to the fun, the individual seed heads turn upside-down when they are ripe.

The perfect spot for a morning coffee

It’s early summer and I can’t think of anywhere I would rather be than here in the garden, amongst the plants, coaxing, staking, weeding and planting. Or just standing here and gazing in wonder at what has just turned up. Try as you might, a gardener is never truly in control, and one of the joys of gardening is accepting that and trying to work with nature rather than trying to beat it into submission!

The editing process continues, and some spring plants are now past their best and must be evicted from their spots to make room for others that are out-growing their pots in the so-called ‘nursery area’ I have made in the corner of the garden. I can now plant out some of the Larkspur and Lupin seedlings I have nurtured; and even some Borage seedlings, which, even though it’s ridiculously promiscuous, I have taken to my heart. It’s a gangly and rather unruly plant, but it really has the most fabulous sapphire blue flowers and it’s so easy to grow. There are also some sunflowers which could do with planting out, and dahlias too. The last frost used to be thought of as around the date of the Chelsea Flower Show, but down here in sunny Devon (!) we can reasonably expect winter to be done by mid may, so I am happy to take a risk. In fact, I always keep a few back in the potting shed ‘just in case’. I am also tidying up some of the early daffodils and have found room for some Bishop’s Lace (Ammi majus) plants where there had been a patch of persistently flowering deep orange Calendulas. Appropriately named ‘Neon’ if I remember rightly!

Marigold, Calendula ‘Neon’ and Bishop’s Lace, Ammi majus

The roses are looking fabulous at the moment, and I think the combination of a careful prune in early spring and a nice thick mulch of compost has paid dividends. The plants that I inherited were looking old and a bit ragged, but the transformation this year has been incredible. There are many more blooms than last year and the foliage looks so much more healthy. I also planted a handful of David Austin roses, which now seem to have bedded in, and the variety ‘Claire Austin’ (a climbing shrub rose) is actually sending up some nice long shoots which are aiming towards the top of their arch. Roses are, of course, a must-have in the cottage garden, and they really do form the focal point around which other, less obvious, plants play second fiddle. Catmint (Nepeta ‘Six Hill Giant’) is one of those, and in combination with almost any rose is an integral part of the English summer garden. There is also an unnamed rose which was looking rather ‘leggy’ last year, and the happy accident of some self seeded ‘Sweet Rocket’ (Hesperis matronalis) beneath it has covered some of the bare branches and stems and given the blooms a setting, above a beautiful ‘frothy’ base.

Allium ‘Purple Sensation, sweet Williams, roses and poppies sit well together in my cottage garden border

The alliums have faded and will be seed heads soon, but there’s plenty to take their place; Hollyhocks are forming buds and are seemingly shooting up behind my back, and poppies of all types are in full bloom. The ‘opium’ poppies (Papaver somniferum) are already five feet tall and forming new buds alongside their photogenic seed heads every day. There are ‘Danish Flag’ poppies which have improbably fringed red and white petals, and there is a rather amazing bright pink pom-pom headed variety too. These plants do have their problems though. I need to stake them, as, even in this sheltered garden, they are prone to wind damage and have rather brittle stems that grow so fast that they have very little strength. The lower leaves are also quick to go brown, so I spend a lot of time clearing the debris beneath them. But, planted amongst other plants, they look remarkable and the companion plants help shield the rather messy foliage!

Mauve opium poppy, Papaver somniferum

This is an extract from my recent book published by Gemini (second print run now)… it’s a shortened version but i thought it might be useful (and fun!) to read. I took all the images and wrote it all myself; a labour of love, taking up two years and much gardening energy, despite the fact that I only have a small garden behind the house in deepest Devon. This was a patch of grass (see beneath) when we moved in. I hope to do more extracts as the year moves on, so do let me know what you think. Thanks.

Spring, traditionally, was the time to start mowing the lawn. A seemingly endless task, it only takes a day or two after mowing for the grass to be clutching at your ankles again! Like many people nowadays, I try to leave some of it completely and let the grass and wildflowers that are hidden within grow for the summer. Over the last fifty or so years, we have lost about ninety seven percent of our wildflower meadows in this country, and as a result many of the insects and mammals that relied on them. The gardens of this country make up a significant area of land, and if we all encouraged the grass to grow and the wildflowers to bloom, we would do a lot of good for our biodiversity. The paths in my cottage garden are grass, and I have decided to just mow a line down the middle, leaving the grass at the sides to grow. We will see how it looks in late summer!

Tidying up the garden at this time of year moves up a gear, and aside from the obvious weeding and mowing duties, make sure that you cut off spent daffodil, tulip and early spring bulb flowers. This ensures that the plant directs its growth and vigour back to the bulb rather than in to seed production, and means that you should get better flowering next year. Check that any permanent plant supports are in good shape; I have just re-tied the bindings around my hazel wigwam, and my low willow hurdle was in need of some TLC. Check any cold frames for pests; I had a single snail which had managed to remain hidden in the cold frame, during which time it decimated a complete tray of marigolds! In the vegetable patch, broad beans will be shooting up; pinch out the tips of the plants if they’re covered in black fly, or spray shoots with soap-based solution. And while on the subject of aphids, now is the time to try and stop any infestations on the new soft growth of roses and any other susceptible plants (they seem to love aquilegias). Rather than using chemicals, try some watered down soapy water and wipe it around the buds and young leaves with your fingers.

As the spring rolls in, so do the weed seedlings. Now, there is much to recommend many so-called ‘weeds’, and the definition of what a weed actually is is a bit misleading. A weed is just a plant that is in the ‘wrong’ place, so that could actually be a seedling of a much loved Phlox or Poppy, but situated in the ‘wrong’ part of the garden. The cottage garden is more of a ‘jumble’ of plants so the idea of a plant being in the wrong place is a bit misleading, but it’s all about ‘editing’ out . The early cottage gardeners loved buttercups and would allow and even cosset them. Be careful which buttercups you encourage though. The creeping buttercup (Ranunculus repens) is an invasive plant and will take over quickly. It’s roots spread, if left unchecked, and although it’s highly beneficial for insects, you’re better off with perhaps the meadow buttercup (Ranunculus acris) in your borders which is much easier to stop in it’s tracks!. Alongside the buttercups in my border is Red Campion (Silene dioica), another wild plant that thrives here, weaving its way around the Hellebores and Camassias in the shady area. So, at this time of year as unwanted seedlings appear in number, it’s best to keep on top of the job, and pull them out or use a hoe around the border. I love the look of Dandelions (Taraxacum officinale), and they are a valuable food source for many early moths and insects, but I prefer them in the lawn than in the borders, so I will dig them out and try to get all the long tap root, as even the smallest bit left in the ground will regrow. Remember that seedlings can re-grow if they are undamaged, so be thorough in the job! Weeding is a satisfying job, and I love the contemplative side to it, but as with everything, there is a balance to be kept. Let the garden grow and allow some space for accidentals. And the bees will be pleased to see the lovely sunny faces of Dandelions in the grass in early spring.

Spring is the time to start planting out some of the seedlings that you have been nurturing on the windowsill, but it’s a bit of a balancing act. A young plant may look healthy and strong sitting on your windowsill, but if you put it straight outside at the drop of a hat, the chances are that it will struggle. Carefully check these signs to make sure that the plants are ready for moving outdoors. If the plant is roughly twice the height of the pot it’s in, and at least as wide, then it will probably have used the nutrients in the pot soil (there is usually, at most, about eight weeks worth of nutrient in each pot for a plant) and it will likely be drying out quickly too. Check if the plant is ‘pot bound’ by carefully removing the pot and checking the roots. If they are starting to grow around the root ball, it’s a sign they need more room. And if the leaves are starting to yellow, it probably means the plant is lacking nutrients. If the answer is ‘yes’ to any of these checks, then it is time to move the plant into the border, or to repot. The move outdoors is not just a case of plonking them into the ground and hoping they will take off just like that! Plants need a week or two of ‘hardening off’ to get them acclimatised to the wind and weather. Use a cold frame or perhaps a cloche to protect the young plants and get them used to being outdoors. Then, on a dull and warmish day, plant the young plants in the border, water them in well and keep a close eye on them. Check the weather and try not to do this if bad weather is imminent, as small plants are very delicate and young leaves are likely to break off if you are not careful.

Spring is the optimum time to really get your seed sowing regime under way. As the days lengthen and become warmer, you can begin sowing hardy annuals and vegetables straight into the ground. You can also start sowing half-hardy annuals (Cosmos, Tithonia, even Dahlias for example) and tomatoes or chillies under glass. Different seeds require different methods of germination, so it’s important to read the seed packet. As a general rule, tiny seeds (poppies and aquilegias for example) may just be sown on the surface and, covered with, at most, a very fine vermiculite or grit, and well watered in with a fine mist spray to ensure you don’t wash them away. Larger seeds should be pushed in at a depth approximately three times the size of the seed. When sowing directly into the ground, make a fine tilth in the seeding area and mark out the ground so that you know not to plant something else there! You can use small sticks or even a line of sand to show where the seeds have been planted. Firm down the ground with a rake and water in well. Birds like eating some small seedlings so you may have to protect them with fine netting until they establish.

As the spring progresses, plants will suddenly burst forth and there will be a lot of new growth which may need support. Young growth in plants doesn’t have the strength of more established growth, so you will need to put in place support. This could be simple stakes that you tie stems to, or perhaps more substantial supports that will be in place for the whole season. This is a cottage garden, so rustic plant supports are entirely acceptable, and the original cottagers would have used twigs and branches from around the garden or surrounding countryside to support their sweet peas and runner beans. I raided a local woodland for some hazel stems for my garden, and they have been in place for two years, supporting summer growth, and providing structure which looks good even in the depths of winter. I tied them together with thinner, more supple willow stems from the local pond. I have also used some rusted metal supports for the perennial plants that start their growth early in spring. It’s a good idea to get the supports in place well before the growth really gets going so that the plants naturally grow around and through the supports.

This is a good time to take softwood or basal cuttings of many plants. There is a huge satisfaction in increasing your plant stock by taking cuttings; it’s free and it’s pretty easy to do. Perennial plants such as Penstemon, Anthemis, Petunia and Verbena, and also some shrubs like Hydrangea can be propagated in this way, and Delphiniums, Lupins and Dahlias can be increased using basal cutting. Basal cuttings are taken from the edge of the new growth of plants that develop from a crown.

The cuttings are taken using a very sharp knife and lower leaves are removed to reduce water loss from the plant. Quickly place the cutting in a pot of new cutting compost having dipped the end into rooting compound. The pot is then either covered with a plastic bag or placed in a propagator to keep in the moisture in. Rooting should happen within a few weeks. It is important that the knife is clean and sharp, that the cutting material in used as quickly as possible, and that the pots are kept in a warm environment. Collect non-flowering shoots and remove the lower leaves. This helps conserve moisture. Place the cuttings in good but not direct light, and make sure that you harden off any plants before placing them outside.

And whilst on the subject of increasing your stock of plants for free, do keep an eye on the new seedlings that are springing up in the borders. You will find that around the established plants like Lupin, Larkspur and Hollyhock, there are often seedlings of these that you can carefully dig up and either move to a new position, or simply pop in a pot and keep for later. You may not have the room at the moment, but gaps will appear and these transplants are perfect little ‘drop-in’ fillers.

Now is a good time to plant some summer bulbs; Lilies for example can be placed in to the borders, or in to pots, and as long as they are planted two to three times as deep as they are in size, they will give you many weeks of colour and impact. If planting in pots (a good idea I think as they are excellent gap fillers later in the summer when some of the early colour has disappeared) add some grit, as most bulbs enjoy really good drainage. If you can, plant in groups of at least three to five, separated by the required amount of space so that they have room to grow. The more the merrier! Drifts of bulbs shooting up in the border are a sight to behold and welcome.

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The garden area is fairly small, but it’s absolutely packed, and huge pots are carefully placed and then added to with smaller pots on benches and stands. Each pot is beautifully decorated and rather than being an afterthought, the pots are on a par with the plants; intricate designs, elegant shapes and careful wording, all add to the effect.

I visited on a slightly overcast day, with a bit of haze, but in many ways its the perfect sort of light for photography. I could keep working, without the risk of harsh shadows, until mid morning, and the plants are nicely illuminated. There was only a touch of wind, so the plant portraits were straightforward. Post production (Lightroom) was easy, although I found a bit of dust on the sensor meant that many images had to be spotted out; sometimes this can be batch ‘spotted’ (ie doing one image and copying the removal brush to all the other images), but I find that its best to check each image individually or else you can get weird things happening if the blemish is across the edge of a leaf (for example). Other than that I just ensured that the skies weren’t too ‘blown out’ by checking highlights and perhaps adding a bit of ‘dehaze’ to the sky area.

Oh, and by the way, what a fabulous cafe they have at Whichford! Vegan specialities if you like, but just really good homemade food and coffee in an eccentric and off beat place… my idea of perfection.

I think this Tulip is ‘La Belle Epoque’… it really struck me with such fabulous colour and form; and the tones really suit the terracotta I think. Worth a visit!

I spent the morning yesterday at Ashwoods Nurseries in the midlands, photographing Lewisias for a magazine piece that will come out next spring; all went well, the light was soft and easy (no need for cumbersome reflectors or diffusors, hurrah!) and having refreshed myself with an excellent cheese scone and cup of tea in the cafe, I moved in to a different part of the cavernous greenhouse I was stationed in. I’d spotted a bench that was packed with little jewels; Primula auricula, AKA auriculas, are treasured spring-flowering perennials admired for their rounded blooms, often marked with intricate rings, eyes, and velvety colours. Originally descended from alpine primulas, they are exhibited, shown and generally treated with a reverence that borders on that which is heaped upon that other spring beauty, the Snowdrop. They combine charm with surprising toughness, making them favourites for pots, alpine houses, and shaded borders (and, of course, the ‘Auricula Theatre’, that Victorian invention that shows off the plants in tiered, dark painted units that have recently become a ‘thing’ again).

Photograph them with a macro lens so that you can get right in there and show the markings, and the patterns, and if you can use a wide-ish aperture (f5.6 or 8 will throw out the focus behind) you could almost hand-hold the camera if its bright enough. I always use a tripod as I can slow down the speeds and make sure that the ISO is low enough for a good ‘quality’ image. Apologies if this is a little bit technical, I will try at some point to do a post about flower photography with a bit more detail in it. I wrote a book called ‘A new cottage Garden’, and you may find that there's some useful information in that.

Apparently, the best growing conditions for auriculas depend on the type. Border and alpine types are the easiest for general garden culture and thrive outdoors in a cool, sheltered spot with partial shade or dappled light. They prefer moist but sharply drained, humus-rich soil that never becomes waterlogged. In heavier soils, adding grit or planting in a raised bed or rock garden helps prevent winter rot. Show auriculas are more exacting and are usually grown in pots under cover, such as a cold frame, unheated greenhouse.

For container growing, use a free-draining compost mix of equal parts loam-based compost, multipurpose compost, and horticultural grit. Water regularly during active growth in spring, keeping the compost just moist, but reduce watering in winter when the plants are semi-dormant. Feed every two weeks with a half-strength balanced liquid fertiliser from late winter until flowering ends.

Propagation is fairly simple and, as with all plants, rewarding. The simplest method is by offsets: after flowering, carefully take out the small side rosettes that form around the parent plant, ensuring each has some roots attached, then pot them individually into small pots with a free-draining PEAT FREE (if possible) compost. Keep them shaded and lightly moist until established. They can also be raised from seed, usually sown from late autumn to midwinter undercover. As the nursery worker was telling me, they are easy to raise and will produce interesting variations.

Thanks as ever to Ashwoods Nurseries, and if you haven’t been there, do so!!! if just to sample the cheese scones

Despite fighting a windy and drizzly day, the signs of spring are definitely there, and looking carefully can be rewarding. Get down low, get your knees dirty and be patient; the flowers move around in the slightest breeze and you need to wait to shoot between the gusts! The flower above is the Wood Anemone, Anemonoides nemorosa, and is one of the earliest flowering spring woodland flowers; by flowering in march or april, it takes advantage of the sunlights that can penetrate the (as yet) mostly leafless woodland trees.

Its early in the year for Bluebells, but they are showing well, and combined with the ‘fiddle heads’ of emerging ferns, the blues and greens are very fresh. Bluebells are a sign of ancient woodland, and the true ‘English Bluebell’ (Hyacinthoides non-scripta) is distinctively delicate compared to the Spanish version (Hyacinthoides hispanica); the flowerheads droop on one side of the stem of the English bluebell, as opposed to all around the h=stem with the Spanish. The fern above is the Hart’s Tongue Fern and it’s distinctive in that unlike all the other UK ferns, it has ‘complete’ leaves, and undivided foliage.

The lanes around my home are a great tonic, even in midwinter, but as the leaves start to break, and the flowers add colour to the hedgerows, a walk down to East Portlemouth and through the woods is a much needed boost. I’m looking forward to the season!

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