A Year at Norton Conyers - February 2019

And so, this month marked a year working at Norton Conyers for me. I feel very privileged to have the chance to work in this glorious, historic estate - helping to build on the work of previous generations.

Having started this blog on my first day working in the gardens on 19th February 2018,  now is a good opportunity to look back and reflect at how the gardens have evolved in that time, and also how differently the garden grows from year to year.

There was little sense of Spring in the air on my first day last year - in fact, it rained for the entire day! And towards the end of February 2018, the infamous 'Beast from the East' hit, bringing much of the country to a standstill.

This year, it seems we had the worst of the winter cold at the end of January. And with temperatures reaching 18C in parts of the country during February, the weather continues to keep all of us on our toes.

And with warmer temperatures bringing trees into bud, and signs of life beginning to emerge from their winter dormancy, there was certainly the sense that 'Spring sprung' in February this year.

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Medlar (Mespilus germanica) in bud

The dumper truck was in full use for the duration of this month. It is a well-used asset to the estate and owes nothing after nearly 60 years of service! I used it to transport tonnes of freshly-cut logs from the woods to be seasoned. It also had the purpose of collecting waste metal from around the estate to be recycled.

Whereas usually habitat piles would be built with waste garden material, the volume produced through cutting back shrubs, ivy and brambles meant some of it would have to be burned. We rarely burn material at Norton Conyers, but sometimes it is a necessity. As plant material was cut back between the boundary of the woodland and the car park, and along the south wall of the gardens, I loaded the dumper truck and transported the material to the old tennis courts, where a bonfire was started.

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Whereas the Snowdrops (Galanthus) had only recently emerged this time last year, their prime had already been enjoyed by the beginning of February 2019. Throughout the month, they would become tired and tinged with brown. But as Snowdrops herald the beginning of Spring, so this meant the gardens would quickly begin to transform with fresh life.

Rhubarb (Rheum) was relocated (and some removed) in bud on 26th February last year; a year to the day, and - in a show of the early onset of Spring - some had already sprouted. 

Rhubarb (Rheum)

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The mist was thick on the morning of the 25th February; after a glorious few weeks of weather, it was a reminder that we were still in February, and winter weather would still make an appearance.

On this morning, I was set the task of digging out the Chrystanthemums within the willow-bordered garden. All withered and in a monotone dull brown, they offered a stark contrast to the varied pastel shades that were enjoyed over the summer. Again - a reminder of the passing of the seasons, and the stark contrasts in colour, texture and light offered in the gardens throughout the year.

Chrysanthemums, Feb 2019

Chrysanthemums, July 2018

Next, it was to the vegetable garden. Bex had strimmed the Manure Grass which had been sown towards the end of 2018. Alan, Bex, Margaret and I turned over the Manure Grass with spades. It is sown as a fast-growing grass, which, when turned back into the earth, breaks down to enrich the earth - it is a natural fertiliser, which also discourages the growth of weeds.

After our morning break, the sun suddenly began to break through the clouds and mist, and the temperature soon began to rise; jackets and jumpers were promptly removed.

And as some of the remaining vegetables were removed from the patch in the afternoon, these milestones in the seasons remind us to look forward to the new growth which will appear over the coming weeks and months.

February ended in glorious sunshine, and as winter dissolves, the cycle of life begins again.

Lakeside Logging at Norton Conyers - January 2019

January 31st

-7.5 Celsius as I passed Nunwick on the way to Norton Conyers. It is the morning of the 31st of January and the coldest night of the season has been endured across the country. The bitter temperatures have bitten throughout much of the month, but the January weather concluded with a numbing vengeance. I walked around the outside of the gardens - senses heightened with the sub-zero temperatures amplifying the eerie silence. Every leaf, twig and blade of grass fixed and fragile in a coarse, crisp shell.

Frosted Garden Gates, 31st January 2019

8.30am

1.15pm

January 3rd

The year had started without frost. Giles and I began 2019 by removing the remainder of the apple tree Malus 'Beauty of Bath' which had been cut down before Christmas. Snowdrops (Galanthus) were beginning to emerge around the tree trunk, and these were lifted before digging up the earth. With axe and chainsaw, thick roots were cut. With rope attached, the tractor was used to pull and twist it out of the earth.

The chainsaw was used once again by Giles and the trunk broken into logs. The earth was replaced - extra compost added and Snowdrops carefully replanted. The job was completed - leaving barely any trace of the 50-year-old tree which once stood. The 'Egremont Russet' planted in close proximity now had space to grow and flourish.

Into the Woods

Next - into the woods. The initial stretch of the pathway was cleared, and habitat piles tidied and consolidated. We then ambled towards the lake, with tools in hand. The area surrounding the lake had been untended for years and it would be a significant undertaking to cut back foliage and retrieve fallen trees from the water. We would spend much of our January days working by the lake.

Starting on the south bank, overhanging branches, brambles and bamboo were cut back, gradually revealing an enhanced view across the lake. I was then employed to cut climbing Ivy (Hedera Helix) on trees to prevent them from being weighed down. I remarked at the woody stalks of the Ivy - some of which were thick enough to be small trees themselves.

Ivy (Hedera Helix)

As we made our way around the lake, we came across a headstone - for a horse. A small pet cemetery also exists in the woodland near the house and - as I later discovered - across the lake.

Luxury
A Chestnut Gelding
Died 18th July 1918
Aged 16 Years
A Celebrated Hunter
& Jumper First in the
Kings Cup at Olympia
1907 & 1908
Malise Graham

The Emergence of Life

As the month progressed, subtle glimmers of colour emerged. Most prominently, vibrant strands of lemon and lime sprung from a beautiful Witch Hazel (Hamemelis) to the east of the Orangery. The Hamemelis has a sense of gentle, graceful movement about it - the flowing flowers like the tentacles of a sea anemone. In the dull January light, the Witch Hazel seems to emit its own source of light and bears a delicate scent which belies the season. 

 Witch Hazel (Hamamelis)

But, the reality is that new life is all around us even at the dullest, darkest time of year. Knowing where to look for it is the key. As we walked towards the western garden door, Beth spotted a Hepatica in the undergrowth - it is a small, violet flower of the buttercup family. There is something very special about these small glimmers of fresh colour - a clear display of thriving life and a promise of new life to come.

Hepatica

Lakeside

The lakeside clear-up continued. A Willow (Salix) lay in the water - parts completely submerged and sitting in thick mud. Removing it was a real challenge. Loppers were used to remove branches, before a rope was tied. The tractor was then employed to wrench the tree out of the lake. But there was not enough room for manoeuvre and insufficient leverage; I drove the tractor around the perimeter of the lake and into an adjoining field, stopping behind my previous location.

The tractor wheels slipped and struggled to gain traction as it heaved, and Giles climbed onto the trailer for extra ballast! And after moving onto fresh ground the remainder of the tree emerged from the water. The mud in which it had been buried was very smelly; moving it into habitat piles was an unpleasant business!

Willow (Saxis)

The lake was starting to reveal itself and its true beauty. As the month progressed, bright blue skies created stunning reflections in the water.

In mid-January, Giles cut up a recently felled cherry tree and this was transported to the woodyard using the dumper truck - a huge undertaking, which unfortunately took its toll on the old machine. A section of the bodywork came loose, which required welding. But once Giles had attended to it, the dumper truck continued to fill the woodyard throughout the month, and the last day of January consisted of felling and logging an established Ash tree (Fraxinus).

Hopeful Plum at lunchtime

Hopeful Shandy at lunchtime

Snowdrops

The snowdrops quickly grew and filled out throughout the month - the budding flowers gradually appearing plump and heavy. They are a welcome sight across the estate, adding patches of winter joy to the barren earth.

Snowdrops (Galanthus)

Keepers Cottage

Towards the end of the month, we made our way down the lane to Keepers Cottage. Earlier in the month I had ventured in this direction before starting work; I had seen six herons in one field and four roe deer in another - all at the same time!

Work was needed in the garden of the Keepers Cottage, and foliage needed clearing. Derek, Emma and I had the unenviable task of removing a very hardy Philadelphus (Mock Orange), which was obscuring the view from the kitchen. The Philadelphus grows small bowl-shaped white flowers in the summer, with orange centres. However, when removing this shrub from the earth, it was difficult to imagine that it was capable of growing such delicate flowers. It took a great deal of digging, axing and leveraging to remove the base of it from the ground.

Derek attacking the remains of the Philadelphus

With vast quantities of Ivy removed from brickwork, and last-years growth cut back, we left the Keepers Cottage. Giles and I would return on the next working day to remove an aging conifer and unhealthy plum tree (which was also obstructing a window). Both of these were easily removed with spade and tractor.

Cold Shandy huddling into one of the gardener's lunches to keep warm!!

Ivy

We were all exasperated with Ivy towards the end of the month; cutting it back from walls and trees had kept us occupied for days around the lake and in the wider estate. We spent much time clearing in the woodland to the north of the house and at Wath Lodge which is 3/4 of a mile away. But this is necessary to prevent it from 'taking over' and causing damage.

January

January 2019 - a cold, yet physical and incredibly satisfying month. It was a pleasant surprise to see the subtle beauty in nature at this time of year, but also a delight to enjoy the clean, glimmering frosts and low, rolling mists which provided atmospheric backdrops. However, it was also a month in which I witnessed some of the most dramatic, beautiful skies I have ever seen - a selection of which I now end with.

Jewels in an Arid Land - Norton Conyers, Summer 2018

I write in mid July. The record-breaking weather continues; it is the longest and hottest heatwave in the UK since 1976. The country has basked in sunshine, and both sport and weather have dominated the headlines. The weather ran in tandem with the country's growing hopes for the England football team in the World Cup; rain (briefly) came the day after their defeat in the semi-final to Croatia.

Many people are enjoying the novelty of the enduring hot weather. But for the gardener it is a headache and a challenge.

June began warm but unremarkable - Norton Conyers' NGS opening gardens was held on a disappointingly dull day, and we looked set for a typically British summer. Grass was mown every week - a task taking up much of every Thursday - and there was still plenty of other work to be done - hoeing is one of Giles' favourite tasks to delegate.
Driving the tractor for the first time was a particular highlight of mine...

Mowing the lawn outside the house

However, the month progressed with the mercury rising and growing intervals between rain. Much time was spent hoeing the dry topsoil across much of the gardens; weeds are peskily persistent. With large fruit and vegetable plots, and freshly planted borders, watering was the most vital part of our work. Watering in a garden the size of Norton Conyers' takes up a lot of time - especially given the days between work here, where a really good soaking of the earth is required to ensure plants are able to survive in the heat.

The watering paid off - the majority of the plants in the garden have still been able to thrive despite the prolonged heat. There is a remarkably healthy crop of vegetables and fruit, and nothing to suggest the harsh climes in which they have grown.

Cows

Towards the end of June I arrived at Norton Conyers - early as usual to drop my Mum off at work en route - and set out to explore the grounds before Giles opened the garden gates. A relatively cool, but bright and clear start - perfect photographic conditions. I walked towards the house, and then along the external perimeter of the walls. Cows - sometimes heard from inside the gardens - grazed in their herd. I walked along and took pictures of the main border in its summer prime through the gate. I took my time taking shots, but had no sense of what was happening behind me...

I turned - the cows had spotted me and were heading my way in their herd. I stood and took photographs of the creatures as they advanced.  No more than 20ft separated me from them across the ha-ha as they gazed, questioning the reason for my presence - was I a bringer of food?!

Strimming

The day's work began, and I set about hoeing borders. The temperature rose rapidly, and after lunch Giles set me to work with a strimmer on the overgrown land outside the house. Having topped up the fuel and equipped myself with harness, protective helmet and visor, I ambled out of the courtyard and towards the house. Although Alyson had been employed with this task for some time before me, there was still much to keep me busy. In the full sun I soon began to tire. Nettles and goose grass tangled as the base of the machine spun, meaning my efforts were regularly frustrated, and bits of projected debris smarted against my skin. A stop-start job, but one which I managed to finish just in time for lunch; by which time I was hot and achy - my forehead shiny with beads of sweat.
Much more land would be strimmed over the coming weeks, but due to the weather, no one was to be employed doing this job for more than a couple of hours in a single day.

Rosa Iceberg - a favourite of Sir James - outside the Orangery.

Odd-jobs

As the month progressed and dryness began to take hold, the grass - growing at an ever-slowing rate - was left alone. This freed up much time - in other circumstances, time is a luxury to the gardener. But Giles had a declining list of jobs to do given the arid weather. When watering and hoeing were in hand, odd jobs included thinning out pears, weeding around the house and trimming bushes - all worthwhile but not pressing priorities.

Fruit

However, this time would soon be needed as the 'fruits' of our labour were beginning to ripen. I stepped into the peach house in the last week of June - the sweet and intoxicating scent filling the room. The fruits had been thinned out just a few weeks previously, and so I remarked at the fast progress that had been made since then. Given the plethora of ripened fruits, we were able to take some home for ourselves. I baked four in the oven and added cream - divine!

A peach, ripe for the picking

Redcurrants hide themselves amongst the leaves - waiting to be discovered. I had found them a week or so previously - small, white, unappealing. However, on this occasion I found perfectly-formed, glistening ruby jewels. I was struck by nature's enduring tenacity in conditions so unfavourable to life. It's our job as gardeners to assist the natural process, but the relentlessness of the weather could not prevent these plants from producing the largest, reddest currants I had ever seen.

As raspberries and loganberries ripened, along with some of the straggling redcurrants, a glut of fresh fruit was available. I cast my mind back to my first day in the gardens when I helped Giles to install huge wooden supports for the new raspberry plants; on this June day I stood admiring four months of nature's hard work.

Redcurrants hanging like threaded beads

Ripening loganberries

A few coach-parties visited during this period, and we had fruit punnets picked in anticipation; peaches and apple juice ready for purchase.









Arid Land

June turned into July, and - like much of the rest of the country - the effect of weeks of dry, hot weather had yellowed the lawns. The lack of mowing and uneven growth added to the untidiness. This was a shame given the magnificence of the rest of the garden. But there was no practical way of preventing nature's course in this instance. We just had to wait for the rain to come.

Further tractor driving was to come at the beginning of July, as the meadow outside the house was to be mown for the first time in the season. The length of the growth demanded a slow tractor speed - another time-consuming job. I swapped to start clearing up with rake and pitchfork, and several dumper loads of grass were taken into the woods. I was told that the dryness of the grass made this an easier job than in previous years - just as well given the heat! The whole team was involved in this operation, and a convivial atmosphere was enjoyed before lunch.

Alan - dumper commander

Lunch time!

 


















The Vegetable Patch

The vegetable patch is a wonderful sight right now. Earlier this week, huge cauliflowers were picked; I enjoyed some in a home-made vegetarian lasagne today along with peas and courgettes also from the garden. The brassicas sprawl and the onions and beetroots sit proudly in their beds. Not everything has been a success though - our experimentation with Soya plants this year will be chalked up in the 'experience' category (it was largely destroyed by pigeons), and a row of  beetroot didn't grow at all (we think the freshly planted seeds may have been hoed over by mistake...). But overall, we are all delighted with a very healthy crop and another successful year - so far at Norton Conyers - success indeed given the harsh growing conditions. We will enjoy the fat of the land for weeks to come.