Episode 9 Gardeners' World

Off we go, come on. Through you go. Come on, Nell.

Good girl.

Hello, welcome to Gardeners' World.

We haven't really had a look at the Dry Garden this year,

but at this moment - and it only lasts for a week or so -

it's got a lovely, easy flow.

And the colours pick up from the honesty, to the Recreado tulips,

and that incredible, electric lime-green of the euphorbias.

And then the other greens, which, of course, as May progresses,

everything is filling out,

growing with the textures from the greys to the deep, rich greens.

And when you bear in mind that this bit of garden has by far

the worst soil in the whole of Longmeadow, it shows that

sometimes you don't have to do very much to make a garden lovely.

You can just stand back and enjoy it doing its thing.

This week, we pay our second visit to probably the most

famous of all British gardens - Sissinghurst, in Kent -

to find out how the team is getting on as they work to reconnect

the garden with the original vision

of Vita Sackville-West and Harold Nicolson.

I think Sissinghurst really was one of the gardens,

post-war, that really taught people how to garden again.

How nice they could be,

how they could be part of and enhance your life.

And in the first of a new series of films,

Carol looks at finding the right plant for the right place.

I've come to deepest Devon to have a look at hedges, banks,

to give us lots of clues about what we can grow around our boundaries.

And I shall be planting out my sweet peas in the Cottage Garden,

and my purple podded peas in the new Vegetable Garden.

This is the Mound.

And we call it the Mound because, over the years,

we've mounded up all our spoil.

Building rubble, hardcore, the soil from the pond and,

a few years ago, we shaped it and formed it and, very slowly,

we've worked out what we want to do with it.

Now, this level is all about containers,

and everything is chosen, primarily, for its fragrance.

So, for example, these are scented-leaf pelargoniums.

The lemon verbena.

Just touch the leaf as you go by, and that intense lemony smell.

Of course, this is somewhere to come and sit.

And actually it's where I'll put the clematis

that I bought at Malvern.

This Lunar Lass comes from New Zealand, has got fragrant flowers.

It doesn't grow very fast.

So what I'm going to do is pot it up, put it up on a block

and have it hanging down.

And by the way, if you do buy one of these,

it likes a little better drainage than most clematis.

This needs good compost, but also added grit,

so it doesn't get too wet. And also, because it's in a pot,

I'll be able to protect it in winter if I have to.

It's not as hardy as some clematis.

So much for this level.

But then, when we go up...

..we come to the temple of scent.

Just done this in the last few weeks.

Chestnut posts sunk two feet in the ground,

a few bean sticks over the top for shade, and then the idea is

to have climbers climbing up each of the posts, that will smother it all.

So we'll be able to sit here, surrounded by scent.

I want all of these to be evening scents.

So the colour scheme reflects that.

White, creams, pale yellows.

These are colours that are more visible at night,

so therefore they attract evening pollinators,

so the plant is pulsing out scent to bring them in.

Hopefully, we can have the benefit of that.

Right, let's get planting.

I've got a really good honeysuckle.

This is a variety that's new to me - it's called Scentsation,

with exceptionally good fragrance.

I'm going to plant this round the back of the support,

so it just has a little bit of shade.

But it is important, if you're making a scented garden of any kind,

not to get carried away with scent.

You need to focus - just the same as if you were doing colour.

Whereas if you just have a mass of scents, it's like emptying

perfume bottles all into a pot and saying, "Well, smell that."

So try and select what you like, and limit your choices.

You don't want to be bombarded by conflicting fragrance.

But we will pop this chap in the ground.

Nice roots.

And plant it very simply. This soil is good.

I've added a little bit of garden compost, and

when it's all planted up, I'm going to mulch it with mushroom compost.

So that's the time when it'll have a little bit of feed.

But no need to do any more than just plonk it in the ground

and, obviously, give it a really good soak.

So that'll be trained up, and I'll tie that in,

and it'll quickly grow up that post.

And the next thing I want to put in is a peony.

And she's more than any old peony, she's a Duchesse.

Duchesse is a lovely, white, strong peony.

When you're planting peonies, herbaceous peonies, that is,

the important thing is to give them good soil...

..and to make sure they don't dry out.

And you want to plant them a little bit deep, but not too deep.

Gently take it out the pot...

In we go, little one. There you are.

So I've got the top of the plant about an inch below the soil.

And I'll mulch this,

which will both keep the moisture in and also cover it over.

We pull that round.

I've firmed it down.

And I'm going to give that a good soak.

Peonies, to get a good start, mustn't dry out.

And if you mulch it, don't mulch over the crown.

Mulch around it, but don't bury that crown.

And not only do they look good, but they can smell wonderful too.

Now it's time to return for our second visit to Sissinghurst,

and the head gardener, Troy Scott Smith,

is returning it to the true spirit that was

created by Vita Sackville-West and Harold Nicolson

when they made the garden in the middle of the 20th century.

I think Sissinghurst really was one of the gardens, post-war,

that really taught people how to garden again.

What gardens could be.

How nice they could be, how they could be part of

and enhance your life.

It was the combination of their two talents as well

which made the garden, their two characters,

so Harold, the classicist and the more logical thinker,

versus the Bohemian life force of Vita

really made this garden what it was.

The formal lines and the soft planting very easily go together.

It feels effortless.

We've been working on this Revitalising Vita project

for two or three years now.

Sissinghurst is a very successful, popular garden -

we have 200,000 visitors - but at its heart,

I just felt there was something that wasn't quite right at Sissinghurst.

I think, for me, it's not a single thing that has happened,

it's a series of interventions, of changes,

mostly as a result of increasing visitor numbers.

And so, where we used to have grass paths in Vita's time,

now those paths are paved with York stone.

Where roses hung over paths and sprawled down from trees,

they've now slightly been pruned back off the paths.

So it's those kind of changes which we're now trying to address.

So here we are, within the Nuttery at Sissinghurst,

and when you compare it with the White Garden or the Rose Garden,

it's not so obvious as a set-piece room.

But it's really important in the story of the creation of the garden,

because when Harold writes in his diary,

he writes about walking around Sissinghurst, and feeling really,

is this the right space, the right place for them to buy?

Then they walked outside and around a corner, they stumbled across

what they call this Nut Plat,

and then Harold writes, "That settled it."

It was also quite important, because it was one of the first

spaces that they started to plant out.

They went out into the woods, they saw the wild primroses growing.

They selected some of the more cultivated forms, the polyanthus,

and they started slowly to plant them through the Nuttery here.

So this whole area very quickly became carpeted with great

swathes of polyanthus, looking amazing.

Here, she let her colour sensibilities just rip.

So then, the polyanthus, after around 30 years, it became obvious,

I think, to Vita and to Harold,

that they weren't as happy or as healthy as they used to be.

It's common with many plants, really,

where you just grow one plant in the same soil for a long time -

the soil just gets a bit fed up.

It means it's a struggle for that plant to grow.

It was actually a number of years later that the Trust finally

decided to just do without them

in a big decision at Sissinghurst, to take away something that many

people had loved, and that Vita and Harold had put in.

Last year, we planted some little areas of polyanthus back here,

just really to give them a chance to see if they thrive

or to see if they still turn up their noses.

And so far, you can see here, they seem very happy.

So, of all Sissinghurst's garden rooms,

the White Garden was the last one that Vita and Harold created.

And it was their idea to do something really special

for the Festival of Britain.

Here in the White Garden, they created this space,

I think, really, of magical, epic triumph.

It's so easy to just call it the White Garden here but, actually,

Vita and Harold called it the Grey, Green and White Garden.

And that's much more interesting, actually,

because white is quite a simple colour,

and much nicer to use it in reference with the greys

and the greens of the foliage. We understand that, actually,

the colour white, for Vita, was quite a significant colour.

She loved the idea of a barn owl,

this white bird floating across the garden.

It's a colour she actually excluded in other parts of the garden.

And she didn't choose to use it

until they started to make the White Garden here.

She talks a lot about soft mounds of grey, of artemisia,

with the spikes coming through, perhaps eremurus,

and also flower colours which are just off-white,

so it could be very soft yellow or maybe just a hint of pink,

and that actually makes the garden

that much more interesting and multilayered.

It's important just to do as much of the research as

we can to understand, really, what was the garden like?

These box hedges, these were all, a couple of years ago,

all the same height. We've started to reduce the hedges here.

So we've cut the hedges shorter.

We reference the structural hedges of the garden's past.

This is the last of the quince trees that we're planting.

We're putting these in as a substitute to the almond trees.

I think the almonds struggled here in the White Garden.

It's quite a cold garden, north facing,

so there's quite a cold draught which comes through.

And I think, ultimately, that, with our cold, heavy clay soil,

was just too much for them.

So we think the quince will be a better,

more longer-lasting tree, really,

but give a similar effect to the almonds.

Simply try and backfill with this improved soil,

with a little bit of compost.

I will, of course, be staking this tree later as well.

We often think, my colleagues, what would Vita have planted?

And it's very difficult to say.

Would she have arrived at the same decision?

I think you would, as a gardener. You adapt to the garden.

I'm pretty confident that Vita would approve.

I like the fact that Troy referred to the White Garden as being

a White, Green and Grey Garden, because that's the secret.

White flowers can be really quite hard.

They don't give a lot, they're difficult.

Whereas as soon as you add as much green as possible -

in all its various shades and hues -

then the white flowers come alive.

The Writing Garden - which is a white garden -

wasn't, in fact, based on Sissinghurst.

It was inspired by cow parsley.

But I've learned so much from the White Garden at Sissinghurst.

I would say, if you visit a garden that you like,

try and deconstruct it.

Try and work out what they've done and how they've done it,

and then you can use that in your own garden.

Come on.

Nigel.

Although we've had some really hot weather over the last week,

April was really cold and wet here.

And I made these beds, but the soil was nowhere near ready.

However, I think now these beds are ready for planting.

These are purple podded peas.

A variety called Blauwschokker.

Rich purple pods and then green peas inside.

I've grown them in root trainers,

because all legumes have nice, long roots,

and the longer and straighter the roots can be, the happier they are.

They're ready to go - they're growing down through the cracks.

Put that in there.

And space them out, about six inches apart.

Peas like a sunny, cool position.

That's the reason why they're grown in spring and early summer.

By July, August, it's got too hot and too dry for them,

although there's plenty of time to sow them now.

You don't really sow peas after midsummer.

Once you've planted peas, or if you've sown them as soon

as they appear - it is important to stake them

and to provide them some support, because they've got tendrils

and they climb and they twine, and if you don't provide support,

they'll do all that amongst each other

and they get horribly tangled. Traditionally, you use pea sticks.

So any good, strong prunings that you have that are nice

and bushy... Or, failing that, chicken wire does very well,

supported by posts, or netting of any kind.

Just something that's strong enough to take the weight of the peas and

have lots of nooks and crannies and twiggy bits

that they can climb into.

The only tip, really, when you're putting these in is

angle them inwards, so that they meet at the top.

And that way, they both support each other,

and also, the peas find it easier to grow up.

My soil is pretty wet, and those peas were well watered,

so I probably don't need to water those in.

But if you have any doubt, give them a good soak

when you plant or sow them.

Then you shouldn't need to water them until they flower.

Then it is important to give them a really good soak,

so they form good pods.

Peas are easy to grow as long as it doesn't get too hot

and they've got plenty of light.

But we all have places in the garden which are awkward.

Carol is beginning a new series - identifying those problem places

and coming up with perfect plant solutions.

And this week, she starts out with those borders, banks and boundaries

that can be really hard to find the best plants for.

Most of our gardens have shade.

Full sun.

They can be wet,

dry,

windy,

which means we have the opportunity

to grow a wide variety of beautiful plants.

But if we want our plants to thrive and flourish,

we need to choose the right plant for the right place.

Almost all of us have boundaries in our gardens.

Sometimes they're fences, hedges, walls.

But what to grow in and around them and, very often, up them?

Often, the area at the base of hedges, walls,

fences in our gardens can cause problems.

It can be wet, dry, it can be sunny or shady.

And sometimes it's really awkward to think about which plants

are going to grow there.

I've come to deepest Devon to have a look at hedges, banks,

to see what kind of plants really love living here

to give us lots of clues about what WE can grow around our boundaries.

Although these plants share the same conditions, each of them

has evolved in its individual way to cope with them.

Just imagine you're a plant living in this sort of situation.

What do you have to put up with?

Well, sometimes you're bathed in hot sunshine

but on the very same day, you might be plunged into dense shade.

In the winter, these banks will be running with water.

And yet, later on in the summer -

especially when the canopy comes out overhead -

you'll be in drought conditions.

But these parts can cope with all of that. How do they do it?

They all have different strategies.

Look at this little plant.

This is...

It's one of our native cranesbills,

and it makes these dense mats of leaves.

If you could see underneath this plant,

you'd find that the roots are tiny, fibrous.

They can spread themselves out under the leaf litter

and gather in enough nutrients to support the whole plant.

It would be unthinkable to be looking at Devon hedgerows

without talking about primroses.

And here they are, in all their glory.

They seed themselves right down the bank.

And then, when each one turns into a really big clump,

they just spread outwards from the centre,

leaving the old, woody bits right in the middle.

In our gardens, we have to help them along.

We need to dig them up and divide them.

But in nature, they can do it for themselves.

If these plants are happy growing here in the wild,

then there's a good chance that plants with similar characteristics

will grow happily in the same sort of conditions in our gardens.

How about this for a boundary and a half?

They're not the same plants that we saw in the hedgerow,

but they've got lots and lots of similarities.

Around the edge of the path, you've got periwinkle.

You can put periwinkle anywhere at all and it'll thrive.

If you're looking for plants for your boundaries,

there are loads to choose from.

Devon's famous for its ferns.

But this one's from Japan.

It's...

All ferns make a fibrous root mat,

so they're very accommodating.

You can grow them even in really thin soil.

If you've got a hotspot,

why not go for one of the perennial wallflowers?

The most popular is...

Here in the lee of these walls, there are these big beds.

The soil is really poor.

Sometimes, in the winter, it might be wet through.

And then, when the leaves come out in the canopy overhead,

the whole place is plunged into dense shade.

But they can tolerate it. Not only tolerate it, they can thrive in it.

I love this mixture of the dicentra and the forget-me-not.

The dicentra is from the States,

and here it is with a European plant, this little myosotis,

which has flung itself out everywhere.

The dicentra grows by sending runners and colonising the ground.

And the forget-me-not has this beautiful touch.

You can always be certain that when a plant seeds itself,

it's the right plant in the right place.

Of course, plants do have a habit of seeding themselves

where you don't want them,

growing perfectly in the cracks of the paving or out of a wall,

or in a bed that's the wrong colour.

And then here, in the Wildlife Garden, I let things seed.

This bed is full of self-seeded plants, half of them weeds,

but perfect for wildlife. And to be honest, I like the way it looks.

Come on, dogs.

Ferns might be very common.

This is Dryopteris filix-mas, which you see all over the place.

But have you ever really seen anything look more exotic than that?

You feel that this could be on a coral reef

or a deep seabed or in a jungle in Borneo.

What do you think, Nell?

And I love the combination of a sort of

seahorse head with octopus tentacles.

It's absolutely exquisite.

Come on.

It's time to plant out sweet peas.

Sweet peas are not truly tender.

They can take some frost.

But I find if you plant them out too early, they don't grow.

If they don't grow, they become easy bait for slugs.

And what we really want is nice, fast growth so that...

..they become strong, healthy plants.

This is a variety called Painted Lady,

one of the really old, original sweet peas.

Goes back to the early 18th century.

When you're planting sweet peas, you need some sort of support,

and they really do like moisture-retentive soil.

So if you've got very sandy or thin soil,

dig a hole in between the supports and put in a bucket of manure

or compost or soil-improver, and then mix your soil back in.

Other than that, having sowed these two or three to a pot,

I just plant them out, one pot per supporting stick.

If you're buying sweet peas, sometimes you find as many

as a dozen different plants growing in a single pot.

If that's the case, I like to take them out the pot and break them up,

because if you have 12 weedy little plants,

you won't get 12 times as many flowers.

Good, strong plants will produce more flowers than lots of weak ones.

As they grow, they will need tying in for about the first six weeks.

Thereafter they're strong enough to support themselves.

But what is essential - unlike the peas -

is to give them a really good watering in.

Even if you've already planted your sweet peas

or, for some strange reason, you don't want to plant sweet peas,

there is some jobs you CAN do this weekend.

Few of us have time to keep on top of the garden all the time,

but a good trick is to focus on the edges.

Clip the verges of your paths or lawns,

and immediately everything all around them looks more cared for.

It's not too late to sow pumpkins and squashes,

although it's something you should get on with.

If you have already sowed them, don't be tempted to plant them out.

But you can pot of them on.

Put them in a larger part with a nice, rich compost,

and keep them warm and well watered

until the nights are warm enough to put them in their growing position.

Tulips are dying back fast.

But don't cut back the stems or the foliage,

let them die back slowly so the goodness goes into the bulb.

However, you should nip off the seedheads, they break very easily,

and this stops the energy going into new plants,

so it all goes back into the bulb for next year's flower.

Of course, this is the blossomiest time of year,

just when the flowers on the trees

are matching the foliage as it appears,

and it only takes a strong wind

or a really hot day or a really wet day,

and it all comes tumbling and spattering down.

We wait all winter for these few bright, brief days,

so don't waste a precious second of it.

Don't be too busy to stop and just relish the moment.

And I'll see you back here at Longmeadow, same time next week.

Till then, bye-bye.