GARDENING is an unending series of adjustments as we seek to and arrange nature in pursuit of a harmonious picture. Plants settle in, make a root and begin to grow and to expand and then after a pleasurable interlude of some years may begin to jostle their neighbours as they outgrow their allotted space. We too easily underestimate eventual height and spread, particularly of small trees and scrubs. Accommodating some plants which may eventually reach to eight or 10 feet in height is not usually a problem, but allowing for the width and spread of a shrub - sometimes it can be as wide as it is high - is where we usually go wrong. The elbowing and thuggery which goes on can be as bad as on the rugby field and usually leads to casualties.
Surveying such a corner in the garden I could see that nature had made the difficult decision for me. A quartet of scrubs had put up with an annual adjustment by way of discreet pruning and removal of entire branches for quite a few years now, a more permanent solution was on offer. Unfortunately the candidate marked for removal (or for "de-population" as they euphemistically say on the farming report on the radio) was not the one I wished to part with.
To one side, a small tree - a flowering crab Ma his "Golden Hornet" - offers annual irritation and occasional thoughts on destruction. The 15 foot high crab looks very nice at apple-blossom time with white flowers emerging from pink buds. After that, it makes a useful background foil of greenery until the yellow fruit colour up in September. For weeks in autumn the little golden crab apples are good company but like guests who hang on too long, they become exceedingly tedious and annoying.
After the glow of autumn, the fruit rot as winter comes in and, lacking the decency and good sense to fall, they cling in dingy brown misery to the branches until spring. Right now Malus "Golden Hornet" is not an inspiring sight and makes for very bad company. But nature seems to decree it should stay.
Near to it Sorbaria kirilowi is flourishing. It was not always so and the uncertain and hesitant health of the shrub used to make me nervous, so that I entertained thoughts of destruction any time I stopped to examine it. The Sorbaria got the message and is now the picture of health. It may not be ranked as a shrub of the first order but I wanted it for its late summer flowers - long airy white panicles like a giant spirea held on the ends of arching branches clothed with elegant pinnate leaves, reminiscent of an exotic sorbus or mountain ash. All in all it is a very pleasing, old fashioned, deciduous shrub not seen in many modern gardens. It has a suckering habit but that is not yet a problem. The flower stems die back a bit in winter so some light pruning is needed in spring.
The third of the jostling quartet is Mahonia x media "Winter Sun" an indispensible evergreen with good presence and structure all year round. Now some 20 or more years on, it is about 10 feet tall and makes a noble display of yellow scented blossoms from late autumn until after mid winter.
Evergreen shrubs are an important element in creating a permanent and architectural presence in the garden so I would not have lightly decided to part with this mahonia. Instead, I bid farewell to the oldest friend in this group, Rosa moyesii.
This 10 foot arching rose has been in decline for a while but I choose not to notice too much. An annual tidy up with the removal of dead branches and weak stems satisfied me I was playing my part. The annual display of single, blood red flowers with golden an others hold on long arching stems and set off by dainty pinnate foliage was a high point of late May and early June. This wild rose - for it is a species from China - is a plant of great beauty and one of my particular favourites in early summer. Later on, in September and October, it is bedecked with bright red hips, long and swollen and decorative.
NOW, after 25 years, its time is done and an uncontrollable thicket of suckering stems push up in every direction from the root stock. Like every rose one buys, this is grafted on to a rootstock intended to give vigour to the plant. Occasional suckers can be pulled out firmly or cut off cleanly with knife or secateurs where they emanate from the root. Such treatment once worked and kept matters in check, but we are long past such a remedy and thorny thick stems shove up through the dense roots of hostas and hellebores, five or six feet away from the main stem. Removal and the restoration of order means total destruction of the plant. Coping with the spreading root system will not be easy, but life will be less stressful without this early love.