Posts Tagged ‘roses’

Rosa ‘Wedding Day’

June 25, 2010

The joy of climbers is that they present their flowers at, or just above, eye level, allowing you to inspect individuals, then inviting you to turn your gaze skywards – always a hopeful gesture. I have just been admiring the velvety pink flowers of the clematis ‘Mme Julia Correvon’ (see the entry for 31 July 2009) then, a little further on, noticed that those of the vigorous rambler ‘Wedding Day’ are just beginning to open.

Wedding Day is a vigorous rambler, covered in clusters of single white flowers in early summer

There’s a host of roughly similar ramblers that produce great clusters of single white flowers – ‘Bobbie James’, ‘Seagull’, ‘Rambling Rector’ (actually, I think two out of these may actually be one and the same thing) – but what distinguishes ‘Wedding Day’ is the buds, which are a delectable creamy yellow.

Mine is now covering one side of my old apple tree (which manages to fruit regardless of the competition). Some of the flowers are already fully open, but its peak is yet to come. Even so, the flowering is brief – but spectacular.


June 11, 2010

Certain plants we take for granted – and pyracantha is one of them. But they are coming into flower right now, and what a terrific job they make of it, even if the dull cream flowers are not in themselves appealing (at least, not to me), especially as the infinitely more glamorous roses are just beginning.

Pyracanthas are a froth of flowers in June and are excellent wall shrubs

Pyracanthas – or firethorns – make good thorny hedging and are also excellent for training against a wall. This is a subject I’m planning on coming back to, as, at the end of the month, I’m leading a day at York Gate Garden at Adel, Leeds (I’ll be posting details on my website) for the Gardeners’ Royal Benevolent Society (Perennial), a charity I’m thrilled to be associated with. At York Gate – among other plantings of note – is surely one of the most spectacular wall-trained pyracanthas in the country: tier upon tier rising up about 10 metres, the full height of the house.

I may be exaggerating – the memory plays tricks – but it’s certainly a wonderful thing. I’ll be giving instructions on how to do this in my July newsletter – and post a picture on this blog. I would love to see it in autumn, when its red fruits must sing out against the louring dark brick.