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think pink

In the chilly depths of winter, a gardener could be forgiven for dreaming of colour. I am a relatively young gardener (read: inexperienced). One of the pitfalls of being a young gardener is you strive for too much taste.

Dark colours are exciting, as are whites and creams (the amount of white gardens that have been strewn from Vita Sackville-West’s one at Sissinghurst!). But it’s well into autumn and most of the colours have faded. It is not a bad time to think about what colours worked last season and what more one might like to see next season, when spring comes along and flowers come anew. May I suggest pinks and purples?

I avoided these tones early on in my (brief) gardening “career”. There are as many grotesque shades of pink in the garden as there are types of weed. Yet when I look back at what I liked in summer – hindsight being 20/20 – so much of what I liked was pink. Well, pinks and purples.

A fuchsia bougainvillea, for instance, which I planted next to the pink clematis. It was shocking! Electric! It grew up the wall, in its infancy, with blooms which looked positively rude in a garden of mostly soft grey lavenders. And yet I can’t help but think – especially as we approach winter – that electric colours have their place. They’re like the Versace of the garden.

The pink clematis, too. The one growing here is called ‘Ville de Lyon’ and I admit I’ve never given it much love. And yet it’s been a good performer. It bloomed well, and profusely, and was a welcome interjection of colour at the backend of summer as everything else started to die back. You might think, “Well, pink clematis is about as common as they come.” Maybe you are right, but maybe we ought to have more pink clematis. All hail the commoners.

Of course, if you forget to pick your globe artichokes, as I tend to, they bloom into a fluffy purple flower. The whole thing is fairly inedible by this point but you get such a good flower that it is hard to complain. I transplanted these artichokes a couple of years ago from another place, and they’ve expanded rapidly, creating quite an architectural display behind the potting shed.

More pink plants to hunt down and plant by spring: Geranium ‘Ann Folkard’ which sports tiny purple flowers; Veronica ‘Giles Van Hees’ which sports tiny spires of ombre pink, like if Willy Wonka cottoned on to gardening; petunias… no, I am joking about petunias; I’ll never plant those – there is a limit.

Of course, it’s not just about flowers. Think of the heuchera. They come in an endless selection of pinks and purples, and their foliage adds a soft, velvety texture which transitions well into autumn.

I planted a lot of heucheras very early on in my gardening journey and then promptly moved house. I don’t believe the heucheras are still there, nor are the more than 100-yearold camellia trees which stood sentry – criminal, in my opinion. I think there should be a law which stops the wanton destruction of beautiful trees in people’s gardens; it happens too often.

There are some shades of pink, though, that I never will abide. Hollyhocks are forever twee to me – simpering, pretentious flowers which look like they belong in the 1980s. Petunias have all the grace of Boris Johnson and should be omitted at all costs. Azaleas have too short a blooming period to be worth it. There is an azalea in the garden which has been grafted onto a standard. It blooms for a couple of weeks before the blooms get damaged by rain. It isn’t worth it. And begonias – especially pink ones – remind me too much of civic plants to be of any use.

Yet consider the humble clematis, the artichoke, and the Elton John-like bougainvillea. They surprised me. Perhaps they will surprise you as well.

CHRISTCHURCH

en-nz

2023-06-01T07:00:00.0000000Z

2023-06-01T07:00:00.0000000Z

https://stuffmagazines.pressreader.com/article/284442808217432

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