LITMIR.BIZ

      Evergreen chocolate vine (Akebia quinata)

      Ph_Stephan

      In the very dry, sunny raised bed against the porch I massed various varieties of cistus, including C. ladanifer, not only because they looked stunning tumbling over the old stone but also because they were one of the few plants that seemed to thrive in such a free-draining site. On very hot days, they exuded a lovely rich, almost resin-like aroma – the so-called labdanum gum from cistus is used extensively in perfumery. The small patio area in front of the house was defined by a wooden pergola hung with the rosy-leaved rambling rose ‘Albertine’ together with a common honeysuckle Lonicera periclymenum ‘Graham Thomas’ and the pink-flowered jasmine (Jasminum x stephanense). These gave a lovely scent to the whole seating area, especially in the evening. Low-growing violets, old-fashioned ‘Mrs Sinkins’ pinks and, close by the paving, hardy scented cyclamen (C. cilicium) sprung up at their base, flowering at different times of the year.

      On the sheltered face of the house, I planted a spreading Fremontodendron ‘California Glory’ which bore dramatic yellow flowers from spring until early autumn (no scent but gorgeous), together with the strange and exotic-looking evergreen chocolate vine (Akebia quinata), which has unusual vanilla-scented ruby-red flowers. Further along I planted the exquisite evergreen scented clematis, C. armandii ‘Apple Blossom’, which virtually covered the entire wall in a single season, plus Trachelospermum jasminoides – not a ‘true’ jasmine yet bearing white star-shaped flowers with a pervasive jasmine-like perfume and glossy evergreen leaves. A half-hardy honeysuckle (Lonicera etrusca) was trained around the bedroom window with the climbing white rose ‘Souvenir de la Malmaison’ for night scent. Since this was the most sheltered spot in the garden, I also risked planting slightly tender species at their feet, such as lemon verbena (Aloysia triphylla), the delicate fringed lavender (Lavandula dentata), a ginger plant (Hedychium gardnerianum) and the delicate pink Darjeeling daphne, D. bholua. All survived the winters (with a little help from agricultural fleece) – in fact the lemon verbena turned into the most beautiful, healthy shrub with a very refreshing and uplifting perfume.

      Some years later, I had the opportunity to develop a completely different kind of scented retreat right in the centre of an urban environment. Here, my aims and possibilities were more challenging since there was no garden as such, but only a large sunny terrace. I immediately decided to use the opportunity to try growing all sorts of tender species, because the city provided a warmth and level of protection that was out of the question in the open countryside. Mimosa (Acacia dealbata) with its yellow ball-like flowers, the graceful Nerium oleander, even the wax flower (Hoya carnosa) survived outside all winter with the minimum of protection! Standard grapefruit and lemon trees, the former grown from seed, were over-wintered indoors but benefitted from being outside all summer. Inside, the exquisite gardenia (G. augusta), exotic scented orchids such as Dendrobium nobilis and the white waxy-flowered Stephanotis floribunda thrived so long as they were kept out of direct sunlight. Culinary and classical herbs including lavender, rosemary, parsley and basil were grown in pots outside the kitchen window. Even in the centre of a city, it is possible to create a scented sanctuary – a place to nourish the soul and soothe body and mind.

      My most recent aromatic gardening project has been the development of a traditional stone longhouse with about three acres, located in the foothills of the Epynt Mountains in Wales. Once a working farm, much of the original land had been sold off to local sheep farmers over the last century, but the original buildings and barn still remained. I bought the property in a wild and altogether unmanageable condition, but the stunning views and seemingly benign location on a south-facing slope made it irresistible. A fast-flowing mountain stream cut through the wooded valley with its many ancient trees, including a large oak and several majestic Scots pine, making the very landscape seem alive. My aim was to create a naturalistic garden using mainly aromatic plants, planted in swathes or random ‘waves’.

      It soon became apparent that the mountainous weather of the Epynt region was very erratic. Before a year had passed I began to look at my garden in a different light: which plant species were going to be ‘survivors’. All my spreading rosemary (Rosmarinus officinalis ‘Prostratus’) died during the very first winter, when temperatures plunged to -17°C (1°F), and I also wondered how all my small lavender ‘Hidcote’ bushes would manage to get through February all covered in snow, having planted them out in the late autumn.

      Surprising survivors were the evergreen clematis armandeii ‘Apple Blossom’, due to being located on the south wall, and my various species of lavender planted in a south-facing sloping gravel bed. This was one place where aromatics thrived, like the dramatic nepeta ‘Six Hills Giant’, since here the soil was free draining whilst benefitting from the best of the sunshine. Thankfully, the masses of poet’s narcissus (N. poeticus) I planted in swathes in the grass along the driveway were tolerant of the changeable weather conditions, as were many of the roses I planted. David Austin’s cerise ‘Gertrude Jekyll’ and his pale pink ‘Cottage Garden’ roses all liked the local heavy clay soil, as did the white form of Rosa rugosa and the exquisitely scented dark-leaved Rosa moschata.

      I was beginning to realize that the term ‘climate change’ was not only operating in the sense of a gradual shift in global temperatures, but more dramatically in the sense of climate change on a day-to-day basis: one day it could be -10°C (14°F) and the following day up to 7°C (45°F). Finding plants that can tolerate such sudden shifts in temperature, and which are hardy and versatile enough to adapt to whatever conditions are thrown at them, is going to be a challenge for gardeners all over the world. In creating an ‘all weather’ garden, though, individual designs and plants would need to be tailored to the climatic trends of each specific location, whether in a valley in Wales, in the Australian outback or on a Californian estate. The relationship between gardens and climate

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