The Balcony Garden

Review of the Year 2009

2009-12-29T16:10:00.004+01:00

Has a year really passed since I was sitting here doing the review of 2008? It seems about five minutes ago. But in three days it´s going to be 2010, so here´s a look back at what has happened this year...

On January 1st we were in Germany and it was snowing. But that didn´t stop me getting myself to the local garden centre and stocking up on seeds for the year. Sadly it wasn´t to be a particularly good year on the balcony - too much work and having to be away a lot meant that I had much less time to spend on gardening, and the casualty rate was high. So if you don´t remember having seen photos of many of the plants in the seed packets, well that´s why.

Back in Milan and the bad weather continued, meaning that most of my gardening happened indoors. At the end of the month I posted on looking after Scindapsus - a plant which people often scorn, but which personally I love having around.

By February the weather was getting better, and it was time to start preparing for the year. A balcony may not be quite so time-consuming as a garden, but there´s still plenty to do clearing up after the winter and preparing for spring. See here for a checklist. February was also the month when I posted about how my cooking tended to revolve around the herb savory - and how I was planning to grow it on the balcony in 2009. Sadly it was one of the failures, but I´ll be trying again this year.

March arrived, and suddenly things were blooming again. Much to my surprise, the tulip bulbs which I´d planted for the second year running were the greatest success of the season. So much for all the books which said that tulip bulbs planted in containers should be thrown away after flowering. They´ve gone in again this year - we shall see.

In April, I was also planting salad and veg. But we´ll draw a veil over that one. If my flower gardening wasn´t greatly successful this year, the kitchen garden was a disaster. It produced exactly two French beans ... But then, when your packet of lettuce seeds assures you you´ll be harvesting tomatoes, I suppose failure is to be expected. Confused? So was I - click here.

May. If the balcony isn´t looking good in May, then it never will be. My pride and joy this year was my little campanula, which bloomed its heart out for me all month.

June was pretty good too, with nasturtiums, petunias and surfinia, pelargoniums, hollyhocks and begonias all in full bloom. And for the first time ever, I managed to persuade the great tits and blue tits which live in the garden surrounding the flat to come on to the balcony to feed.

In July we were off to England - where I found my garden completely overgrown. The photo below shows what used to be the rose bed. Two months hard work followed, to get it back to some semblance of order. I planted a lot of bulbs and other stuff while I was there - and hope to get back soon to see how they are doing.

However, the overgrown state of the garden meant that it had become a haven for wildlife - including a family of foxes, who soon realised that dinner was on offer nightly. Not too much - we wouldn´t be there to provide for them forever and the young ones had to learn to forage for themselves. But enough to encourage them to come and check us out every evening.

In September my son and I went to the sea for ten days - to Eraclea Mare, not far from Venice. It was undoubtedly the best two weeks of the year.

On one of our many walks and bike rides into the lagoon, I spotted a buzzard circling high above us.

September also brought the honour of being voted "Best Container Gardening Blog" on Blotanical - something I truly didn´t expect as the competition was so strong.

In October I found a mystery plant had self seeded itself in one of the containers. But several people who read the post were able to identify it as Kalanchoe daigremontiana - or Mother of Thousands. Sadly it succumbed to the sudden drop in temperature we had in December. It was looking very sorry for itself when I left for Christmas holidays, and I very much doubt if it will have made it.

But on a cheerier note, October was also the month when the Hummingbird Hawkmoth visited the balcony.

In November the chrysanthemums were in bloom ....

... and it was also the month when Bilbo the garden gnome visited the Balcony Garden. for those of you who don´t know him, he´s doing a world tour, and visiting people´s blogs along the way. When he left me, he went off to Sweden to visit Gittan and play in the snow..

In December the weather turned chilly and it was time to cover up the balcony before the first sprinkling of snow fell. Everything was covered with fleece and moved back against the warmth of the walls of the flat. But temperatures were about to fall to a record -14C (that´s 7F). That happened the day we left for Germany again, so I´ve not yet seen what damage it´s done. Will anything have survived?

So, the year has come full circle, and in a couple of days will start again. It was a busy, and at times hectic year, but without real ups and downs. I had little time for the balcony (and some months even less for blogging) and it showed in the results. So my goal for next year is to find the time again, and to have the balcony looking as good as it has in some past years. And of course, to get a few more than two French beans ....

To everyone who´s followed the Balcony Garden over the past year, I hope you have a very, very

Happy New Year!

The 2009 Christmas Quiz

2009-12-22T23:30:00.001+01:00

We just got away in time, before the snow created havoc. Two days after we left, Milan is at a standstill with trains not running, and airports closed. Schools closed too, much to my son´s disgust as he´s not there to profit from it. Here in north Germany on the contrary, the worse seems to be over. Temperatures are again above zero (in comparison to -14C the night we arrived) and a night of rain has washed away most of the snow. So will it be a white Christmas? There´s still time yet, but at the moment it´s looking much less likely than on Sunday.

Since The Balcony Garden started, we´ve always had a Christmas Quiz focusing on the plants associated with Christmas time. You can see them all if you click on the link. The 2006 quiz was easy - plenty of questions to ask. 2007 went well too. But by 2008 I was having to get really sneaky, and this year - well, if you get five out of five this time (without cheating and looking them up on the internet), the you really know your Christmas traditions. So here goes - the 2009 Balcony Garden Christmas Quiz.

1. The photo above shows a German Christmas tradition - an evergreen wreath with four candles. But when are the candles traditionally lit, and why?

2. There is a legend that during the Holy Family´s flight to Egypt, Mary laid some freshly washed clothes of the Christ Child over a bush to dry, so that the fragrance of the bush would permeate the clothes. In recognition of the honour bush changed the colour of its flowers from white to blue. What type of bush was it?

3. Every year on December 23rd a festival is held in the Town Square in Oaxacaca, Mexico as part of the Christmas celebrations. The festival consists of a competition for the best carving made from a particular vegetable. Which vegetable is it?

4. In Lithuania there is a traditional Christmas Eve meal in which no meat or hot food is eaten. One of the traditional foods consists of small pastries soaked in a "milk" made from a certain type of seeds. The seeds are soaked in water for a day, then crushed until a white liquid is obtained. This is then diluted with water and sweetened with honey or sugar. But what type of seeds are used?

5. Which of the following banned the Christmas tree?

a) The Bolsheviks after the 1917 October Revolution.

b) President Roosevelt, who didn´t want one in the White House because he objected to trees being cut down to be used as decorations.

c) The United Nations, from the Copenhagen summit last week, in order to avoid the use of a symbol of a religious festival.

So how did you do? Here are the answers :

1. It´s an Advent Wreath, and one candle is lit on each of the four Sundays before Christmas, until on the final Sunday all four candles are burning.

2. A rosemary bush. Another version of the legend says that it was Mary´s cloak which was laid on the bush, which better explains the change to blue flowers.

3. A giant radish. You can read more about it here.

4. Poppy seeds.

5. All of them.

Ah well, after that Christmas can only get easier... Here´s hoping you have a wonderful time and have only just enough snow to make it a white Christmas without causing any problems.

Happy Christmas !

So who won ?

2009-12-20T16:13:00.000+01:00

I got the plants on the balcony covered up with fleece just in time. A couple of days later, temperatures had dropped to freezing and there was a sprinkling of snow. By yesterday there was considerably more than a sprinkling, and by nine in the evening it was -10 degrees centigrade outside. That´s 14 fahrenheit. I don´t remember temperatures like that in Milan ever. Despite the fleece, I wonder how much is going to survive.

Temperatures are similar all over Europe. I don´t know how low it finally dropped overnight in Milan, because we then left for Germany, where we´re spending Christmas. And arrived at -14C (7F). Today is better - it´s been snowing again, and there´s a bitterly cold wind, but temperatures are up to -2C. The plants on my sister-in-law´s balcony seem to be holding up. We´ll see ...

A plea - while weather conditions are like this, don´t forget the birds. It´s tough enough for themout there without going hungry too.

To cheerier things ... who won the mystery bulb competition?The forst person to get it was Dreamybee . It´s Dracunculus vulgaris - an arum lily. When I saw the photo of the flowers they reminded me of the giant Titan arum that I´d heard of at Kew Gardens. But I was sure it couldn´t be that - firstly because it´s huge- over 10 foot high - and secondly because it stinks to high heaven. It puts out a smell like a rotting corpse to attract flies and other pollinating insects. Not a flower that anyone would want on the balcony.

So when I saw it, I just assumed it would be something different. But no -this may not be the titan arum, but it is a smaller cousin, and it has the same revolting smell. So I don´t think it´s going to be around for very long. Providing it survives, you´ll be seeing one photo - and then I´m afraid it will be down the waste chute with it. And next year, if I see any strange bulbs that I think might be fun to try, I think I´ll ask about them before I buy them ...

Anyway, as soon as I get home in the New Year, I shall get the cards off to Dreamybee as promised. And thanks to all of the rest of you who left comments too.

Winter is here ...

2009-12-15T10:27:00.000+01:00

Winter arrived this week, just in time for the December edition of Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day. I don't have much to show this year though - not like 2007 when I still had pelargoniums, marigolds and several other annuals in full bloom, or even 2008 when my antirrhinums were still going strong. This year, all that's in bloom are my chrysanthemums.

It's not been a cold autumn. Although recently it had started to get chillier, daytime temperatures were still reaching 10 or 11°C (50-52°F). And then suddenly the forecast was for maximum 7°C and minimum 3°C. Not freezing yet, but enough to start warning bells ringing in any gardener's mind. And when on Saturday morning I went out to find a bitterly cold north wind blowing - well, it was clearly time to put the balcony to bed.

And so at lunchtime I was outside making preparations for the winter. The last of the annuals - by now fading fast - got pulled up, and the perennials moved back from the balcony railings to nestle up to the warmth of the walls of the house. A little bit of water just to stop them drying out completely, and on went the fleece. All that's left now are the bulbs - many of which are already poking through. I've replanted the daffs and tulips from last year, to see if they'll do anything, and I also have several containers of mystery bulbs - bulbs I found in my London garden in the summer and brought back with me. They're all coming through well, but so far I've still not been able to recognise what they are. Some with long grass like stems may be snowflakes - but we'll have to wait and see.

And of course there's this year's new collection. I've said before that you virtually have to take out a mortgage to buy bulbs from the garden centres in Milan, and so every year I wait for the Fiera del Artigianato - a trade fair held in early December. It's hard to translate Artigianato. It means crafts - but has a much wider sense than the English word. The fair this year covered everything from what you would expect from the words crafts, to food, to furniture, to clothes, to solar panels and even boats. It's huge, and is divided into geographical areas. The Italian stands are grouped by regions, and the others by continents and then individual countries. So I spent three hours wandering around the world, drooled over some antique ceramics from China, had dinner in India, saw some incredible drumming and bagpipe playing in Scotland, bought some cheese in Switzerland (made with carrots, absolutely scrummy), and ended up in Holland where I have an annual date with a Dutch bulb stand.

And here's what I bought this year - from left to right : allium, fritillaria, freesia, dwarf iris, and lily of the valley. And one other bulb. But oh, was that a mistake ....

It intrigued me when I saw it on the stand. It had an interesting name and a strange flower which reminded me of something I'd heard of blooming at Kew Gardens, a bloom that was so rare it made the news. But no, obviously it couldn't it couldn't possibly be that .... So I thought I'd get one and check on the internet later to see exactly what it was. And oh, what a mistake I've made. this is something that has absolutely no place on a balcony. I'm going to be loathed and reviled by not only my family but also the neighbours. Really, I should throw it straight down the waste chute.

But of course I can't. So I've promised myself I'll grow it, let the flower open, take a photo and then cut it off and throw it out. Quickly. What is it and why does it terrify me so? Over to you. As it's Christmas, I'm giving away a little prize - five Balcony Garden greetings cards (similar to the one below) with some of the best photos from the last few years. First person to identify it and explain and why it's such a big mistake wins.

Christmas means Poinsettia ...

2009-12-13T23:00:00.001+01:00

...unfortunately for them. I wonder how many poinsettia are bought at Christmas, and how many are still alive a couple of months later? In fact, I wonder how many people who buy them even want them to be alive a couple of months later? Here in Italy, just before Easter, animal rights groups put up posters condemning the slaughter of lambs for Easter Sunday lunch. I reckon that at Christmas you could do the same for poinsettia ...

Poinsettia (Euphorbia pulcherrima)is native to Mexico - and if that isn't a clue that you'll kill it by bringing it home from the supermarket in temperatures not far above zero, I don't know what is. Even once you've got it home, it likes temperatures around 20-22°C (68-72°F)and lots of light. Don't overwater - it's prone to root rot - but don't let it get dry either.

By about February you'll find it starts to drop its leaves. Yours did and you thought it was dead and threw it away? Yes, I've made that mistake too. But no, it's just resting. Once a good part of the leaves have gone, cut it back to about 20-25cm, keep it fairly dry and at a slightly cooler temperature - but no lower than 15°C (59°F.

In late spring you can repot it and start watering again - but never let it get waterlogged. Use a mix of sand and compost, to guarantee drainage, and start to give it a liquid feed high in nitrogen every 20-30 days, and make sure it also has enough iron. Lack of nitrogen will result in small, slow growing, pale green leaves with yellowish brown blemishes, while lack of iron will lead to the leaves turning creamy white at the edges with brown areas between the veins. Oh - and don't forget the molybdenum - essential if the bracts are to have a strong colour.

In the heat of the summer it can stay outside - but beware. As if its fussiness about being fed wasn't enough, it's also prone to a host of pests and diseases - whitefly, blackfly, thrips, mealybugs, red spider mite, root rot, collar rot, mildew, and grey mould to name but a few. Though the fungal diseases can be avoided by ensuring it's never waterlogged, in humid conditions or given too much nitrogen - yes, I know, I know. You can't win, can you?

If you've ever seen the film When Harry Met Sally you'll know that Sally defines herself as a woman "who wants her cream on the side" (or something like that - I've only seen it in Italian so I'm translating.)In other words, somewhat fussy. And if ever there was a plant which wants its cream on the side, it must be Poinsettia.

And we've not finished yet. Let's say you manage to give it just the right amount of water and fertiliser, you protect it from the insect hordes (whoops - forgot the sap suckers who will instantly infect it with a virus)and get it through to the autumn. can you now relax and wait for those lovely coloured bracts to appear, ready for Christmas?

No way. Those bracts will only appear if for at least two months it's kept in darkness for at least 14 hours a day. That means from, say, 6pm to 8am. Though of course it wants light for the rest of the day. So forget working late in the evening or going out straight after work. Not to mention getting in before 9 in the morning. And they say kids can destroy your career and social life...

I'm starting to understand why everyone breathes a sigh of relief if their poinsettias don't make it through the holidays. It's like trying to cater for the biggest prima donna Hollywood has ever managed to produce.

So why has it become the Christmas plant par excellence? Well, clearly because of the star shape that the bracts form - but there's also a legend which is so nice that it almost makes you forgive the plant for being such a fusspot. If you search the web you'll find a wealth of different versions, but basically it goes something like this ...

There was once a little Mexican girl who was so poor that she had no gift to present to the Christ child at the Christmas Eve church service. Shamefully she picked a handful of weeds from the roadside, the only thing she could think of that she could take. Seeing her crying for the inadequacy of the gift and wanting to cheer her up, someone reassured her "Even the most humble gift, if given in love, will be acceptable in His eyes."

The girl arrived at the church, still scared to present such a poor gift to the baby Jesus despite the reassurance. But as she laid the handful of weeds by the crib they suddenly burst into a glorious display of red stars.

Since when we've all been desperately trying to keep our poinsettias alive from year to year, and generally failing pathetically. Ah well, perhaps this year...

Give Seeds this Christmas ...

2009-12-07T00:33:00.005+01:00

They don't know it yet, but my family will be getting something slightly different in their stockings this Christmas. It might be seeds, or four saplings. It could be a few chickens, or 365 eggs. Maybe schoolbooks or a health check -up ...

No - my family don't need 365 eggs, or health check-ups for Christmas. The gift isn't really for them. But in their name I'll be donating to a charity who will give the seeds, or the chickens, or the health check-up, to someone who does.

Expensive? No. There's a huge range of gifts for less than €15 - that's about US$22.50 or £13.50 at the current exchange rate. And some are only half that price.

Why am I giving them? Well, one reason is that I'm sick of trawling the shops for presents for people who already have everything they need. Don't worry - they'll have other presents, and if they've asked for anything special I'm sure Santa will oblige (just in case they're reading this and panicking ...). But often at Christmas I feel that I'm looking for presents to buy for the sake of it. Yes, a surprise is always nice, and during the year I note down anything that occurs to me that might suit one or other of them - but sometimes it's just consumerism for the sake of it. And I'm fed up with it.

And the other reason - well, just the ethical one. Most of us do have all we need even if we're not quite as rich as Bill Gates. Many people don't. Bill Gates can make a difference all on his own. The rest of us can't - but just imagine if every blogger in the world who could afford it bought a charity gift costing somewhere between $1 and $15 this Christmas. Together we would make a difference - at least to the lives of a significant number of individuals.

Choose the cause you prefer - that doesn't matter. It could be hunger, education, climate change, animal rescue, health, education - or a wealth of other issues. There's so much to change in the world that, sadly, whatever most angers you is catered for. Here are a few possibilities, all under the €15 limit - but there are hundreds of others, obviously including gifts which are more expensive if you can afford more. Check out the sites for yourself.

Oxfam is my favourite for easily affordable gifts. You can buy 5 bags of seeds to aid self sufficiency for a third world family for £10, give a chicken for £11, or provide safe water for 10 people for £9. Then there are school supplies for £7, mosquito nets for £11 and many, many more. If you want to pay more, how about planting an allotment for £24?

Or over at Save the Children ,for £7 you can pay for a week's high protein food for a malnourished child. Or you could buy a child a breakfast egg per day for a year for £14, or a pair of shoes for £10.

Nothing grabs you yet? Then try the shop of the related sites The Hunger Site, The Rainforest Site, The Breast Cancer Site, the Child Health Site, the Literacy Site and The Animal Rescue Site. There for $15 you can help remove landmines in Mozambique, care for a street animal in India or plant a vegetable garden in Rwanda.

These are just examples. The shops of all the sites include many, many more gifts in all price ranges. So if there's someone that you just can't think of a present for - well, perhaps they don't really need anything. But maybe someone else does.

Where in the world is Bilbo? Milan

2009-11-27T17:02:00.009+01:00

Now, if you'd told me a year ago that there would be a gnome on my balcony, I'd probably have laughed at you. But that was before I came across Bilbo.

Because Bilbo is no ordinary garden gnome. Bilbo is an intrepid explorer who has ben working his way around the world since April, when he left his family blog - Trials and Tribulations of a Southern Gardener - to go visiting. He's already visited blogs in eight different states in the US, Canada, Ireland and three different places in England. He's got some great stories - he's especially proud of having been to Buckingham Palace to have tea in the Queen's own café when he visited Matron. He's a bit foggy about some of the details - I can't quite work out whether Her Majesty was behind the tea urn at the time or serving the scones ...

And now he's here in Milan. He'd come all the way from Alberquerque, where he'd been to see Briana at I Can't Decide. By the time he arrived I was starting to get seriously worried. He'd been travelling for over three weeks, and only just made it in time. His sandwiches had run out the day before, and I suspect he'd been rationing them for the last week or so. He looked a bit pale and thin, so - being in Italy - a big plate of pasta was clearly called for. But after tucking into his spaghetti alla carbonara, he perked up considerably and started entertaining us with the tales of his travels.

We'd decided to let him rest for the first day, but he's a lively little chap and not the type to stay still for long. So he'd soon got us all playing hide and seek on the balcony. He won of course because he could slip into so many spaces. It took me ages to find him when he hid in my chrysanthemums ...

Then the next day we started on some serious sightseeing. Bilbo was very impressed with Milan's cathedral ...

.. and he also enjoyed Piazza della Scala. I think he was less bothered about the Opera House (top photo) though, than the giant snails we found in the square.

Bilbo will be here for another few days, but I know he's already anxious to move on. Where will he go next? He'd like to visit all your blogs and is just waiting for an invitation. I know that he'd like to visit other countries in Europe, but he also keeps talking about all the continents he's not yet seen. And then when he talks about the places has has been to he gets terribly nostalgic and says how much he'd like to go back. So wherever you are, I know he'd like to visit you.

Now, you may be wondering if it's safe for such a little chap to be gadding about the world on his own. Don't worry - his adopted Mum, Dirt Princess, has set up some strict rules and regulations to keep him safe. Turn to the Comments below and you'll see them posted there. But if you would like to have Bilbo to stay, all you need to do is leave a comment of your own and in a couple of days he'll choose where he wants to go next. The next stay will probably be quite special. If it takes as long for him to get from here to you as it did from Briana to me, then you might well be hosting him for Christmas ...

aka Tradescantia

2009-11-15T18:17:00.002+01:00

Half way through the week I got a message from Mr Subjunctive, over at Plants are the Strangest People. Had I any idea, he asked, why in the past few days he had had literally hundreds of hits from Italy - all for people searching for the plant Tradescantia pallida (the purple-leaved plant in the photo above). Well no, quite honestly I hadn't - but after a bit of research I managed to track it down.

A couple of days previously, the most widely read Italian newsaper - Il Corriere della Sera - (and I imagine much of the rest of the Italian press too) had published an article quoting some US research. The researchers placed T. pallida at the top of a list of the five houseplants most effective at absorbing pollutants from the atmosphere. And clearly the whole of Italy had decided it was a must-have. I spent the rest of the week imagining the hordes which would be camping outside the garden centres all night, desperate to get hold of the last puny specimen.

Tradescantia is a plant which confused me for years. I knew it even in my pre-gardening years, because Dad had it growing in the garden. It had a little purple flower and leaves a bit like those of a daylily (not that I knew what those were then). But then I heard the name being given to a houseplant with green and white stripey leaves. Oh - so that was tradescantia. Perhaps Dad got it wrong.

Then I started gardening and bought myself some gardening books. There was my stripey plant - Zebrina pendula, common name : the inch plant. Problem resolved. Dad was right all along.

But wait a moment - look at the entry for Tradescantia. It describes a species called Tradescantia fluminensis, and there's a photo. But that's a plant I'd had on the balcony for a couple of years without knowing what it was. I'd ended up ripping it out because it made such a nuisance of itself, invading the whole container and crowding out the other plants. There it is in the photo below, still under control. It's the plant in the forefront just in front of my antirrhinums. So that's Tradescantia??? What else does the book say ? Common name - the inch plant.

At this point, boy was I confused. All I can say is that I'm glad I hadn't also come across Setcreasea pallida, which Mr Subjunctive pointed out. That's it in the top photo. And yes, I know what I said before ...

I'll cut a long story and several hours of research short. It's another case of what I talked about before in the post On the naming of plants (and yes, I know that post is starting to obsess me. I promise not to mention it for at least another month.) The taxonomists keep changing their minds.

They're now all seen as different species of the same genus - tradescantia. There are 71 species in the genus altogether, many of which look nothing like each other - though the flowers tend to give the game away. Here, from the top, the photos show tradescantia pallida, tradescantia ohiensis, tradescantia zebrina, and tradescantia fluminensis - I think.

I mean, I did the research yesterday. They've probably all changed their names again by now.

However, whatever you call it, it seems that T. pallida is a good thing to have around. But then so are the other four on the list - and all the other plants whose anti-pollution effect people have been talking about for years. What are they and what do they do? I'll save that for another post....

Acknowledgements ...

Huge thanks to the photographers who made the following two photos available under Creative Commons License on www.flickr.com :

Tradescantia ohiensis by dmills

Tradescantia Zebrina by abbamouse

... and more.

If you want to know more about Tradescantia pallida and Tradescantia zebrina, click on the links to see posts at Plants are the Strangest People. I couldn't better them so I'm not going to try. Go see for yourself.

Don't throw those chrysanthemums away - well, not yet anyway...

2009-11-07T19:43:00.004+01:00

Chrysanthemums have to be THE plant of the late autumn. Just when everything else is dying off, they burst into flower and - depending on what type you've got and how they've been treated - will treat you to a mass of small blooms or wow you with a smaller number of much larger ones. Not to mention a range of colours from reddy brown through yellow to creamy white - and even pink and purple, colours which are less common here. And all the different petal shapes ...

Where does the name come from? In 1753 Karl Linnaeus, the Swedish botanist who first started to classify plants and animals logically, combined the Greek word chrysos, meaning gold, with anthemon, meaning flower. And despite attempts by recent taxonomists to change the plant's classification, the name has stuck.

In Italy the shops start to fill up with chrysanths in early October. Forget lilies, here chrysanthemums are the flower of the dead - the plant you take to the graves of your loved ones on November 1st. Buy them at the beginning of the month and they're cheap. By Hallowe'en the price has quadrupled.

Being the flower of the dead, it's not a flower that most people have on their balconies here. But I wouldn't be without mine. Especially my little yellow ones. I've had them for years and they go on and on and on ... If you've bought a pot of chrysanths for your balcony this year, don't even think of throwing them away after they've stopped flowering.

They do need a bit of care though. First of all, cut of the dead flower heads as soon as - well, as soon as they're dead. If you're in a fairly cold zone, they'll need covering. We have a Hardiness Zone 8 type climate - the temperature may drop well below freezing in January. Mine get moved back towards the walls of the house and covered in fleece. And don't overwater during the winter.

By March you'll notice that new shoots are starting to come up from near the base of the old plant. These are what you want for next autumn's blooms. Take them off the plant when they're about 2.5 ins long, remove the bottom two leaves and cut vertically across the stem just below the leaf joint. Dip the end in hormone rooting powder and pop them into some potting mix in a propagator to root. Keep them in a warm place.

Well, that's what the books say. But quite honestly I find it works just as well without the hormone rooting powder and with ordinary potting soil. And I don't usually bother with a propagator - quite often I'll put them straight into the pots where I want them to grow. But then, it can be quite warm here in March. But anyway, they're one of the easiest plants to root from cuttings that I know. You may lose a few this way (so take more than you expect to need), but most will be quite happy.

And then you can throw the old plant away. You could try keeping it, but the results aren't usually as good as the first year.

Once the cuttings have rooted, keep in mind that chrysanths like soil which is rich in organic matter and neither very acid nor very alkaline. You'll also need to decide whether or not to "stop" them in April. "Stopping" means pinching out the growing shoot of the plant to encourage it to put out side shoots. If you stop, you'll end up with a myriad of small flowers, If you don't, you'll get a tall stem and one, much larger flower. As you can see from the photos, I stop ...

I have a sneaking affection for these little yellow ones. Yes, I've tried others and I'm the first to admit that these aren't half as elegant as many of the larger ones . I've got some large white ones in bud which I hope will flower soon, and a couple of years ago I had some nice red-brown ones. But nothing does quite so well as these do. They don't seem to mind the heat we have all summer, they shrug off pest attacks, and don't complain at all when they're left to the hideous over-watering that my plant-sitters inflict on them when I'm away. I don't care if the neighbours do think I'm weird - my chrysanths are here to stay.

Quite possibly the ugliest plant I've ever seen...

2009-10-27T11:09:00.003+01:00

I mentioned a few posts back that weeds aren't a particular problem when you balcony garden, but that things do sometimes float in on the wind and seed themselves in the containers. And sometimes they can be quite interesting plants - so when I saw this one sprouting at the beginning of the summer, I popped it into a pot to see what would develop.

What is it? No idea - some sort of succulent it seems. I was sure I'd never seen it before - it's not something I've noticed growing wild, but nor is it anything I've ever seen in a garden.

Well - not till a few days ago that is, when I was walking through the garden at the front of the house and found this, crawling its way up a lamp post ....

Quite possibly the ugliest plant I've ever seen.

How did it get there? That's not a plant that's been deliberated over in a condominium assembly for at least three hours and until blood has been spilled (mandatory for any decisions regarding the condominium). Someone has had the thing growing on their balcony and, in desperation, crept into the garden at dead of night and stuck it up the lamp post. Look how awkward it looks - that, I'm sure, is no natural climber.

To me, it looks as if it should be snaking its way insidiously across the ground. Did someone actually go out and buy it (worthy of a post on Great Gardening Mistakes of the Century) and thus infect my balcony, or did it float in on the wind to them too? I can imagine hundreds of the things spreading through the garden, choking the shrubs and the trees, and then reaching unstoppably for the buildings. We'll all wake up one morning murdered in our beds, tendrils sliding through the shutters and wound mercilessly around our throats.

Because I'm sure it's conscious and I don't think it's from this planet. Who said that intelligent life must be animal? This is something out of The Day of the Triffids or The War of the Worlds. It's here to take over, to wipe us out ...

And I'm growing one. No question that it's the same. Compare the close-up below with the photo of my little one in its pot. Should I kill mine now, bringing upon myself the certain wrath of its kin, or should I go on nurturing it, in the hope that when the time comes I'll be spared and kept on as some sort of servant? They'll need someone to bring the fertiliser, for heaven's sake.

The monster in the garden is already starting to evolve. Did the person who planted it there think he was rendering it harmless by tying it to a stake? He's only increased its rage, and sooner or later we're all going to pay. Look at those little bubble things on the tips of the "teeth" on the leaves. Spores which spread silently on the wind ...

Alert your Neighbourhood Watch. Write to your Congressperson. Notify NASA. But don't ever say I didn't warn you...

A sorry sight ...

2009-10-24T10:05:00.005+02:00

I've always had pelargoniums on the balcony. Common as muck they may be, but in full bloom they're glorious. And with a bit of protection they will not only over-winter, and but also sometimes keep on flowering . If you were reading this blog a few years ago, you'll know that I had one container of salmon-pink zonal pelargoniums that went on for two and half years - in all that time, even in January when it was wrapped up in fleece, there wasn't a moment when it wasn't in bloom.

But each year it got progressively more difficult to keep them alive through the summer. And last year I lost the lot.

So this year I replaced them all. Zonals, ivy-leafed, regals .... Here they are in May this year...

And I've lost the lot again.

Why? Again if you've been reading regularly for a few years, you'll guess. It's this ...

Cacyreus Marshalli, or the Geranium Bronze Butterfly. It's always been a problem, but for the last couple of years it's been impossible to keep the plants alive.

A quick recap for those of you who aren't familiar with it. Native to S.Africa (as are pelargoniums), it was introduced to S. Europe about twenty years ago and has been spreading like wildfire ever since. It's been in Italy since 1996, and is now posing a severe threat to commercial pelargonium cultivation - apart from anything else, because people are starting to avoid buying the plants, knowing they won't survive.

Why does it do so much damage? The larvae of the butterfly don't feed on the leaves. They burrow right into the stems and eat the plant from the inside out, killing it. If you can spot the tell-tale holes you can sometimes cut off the affected part - but over the season you frequently end up cutting back the whole plant.

And go away for a few weeks, like I always have to in the summer (...have to? Only a gardener could feel like that about a holiday ) and you come back to this ...

What can be done about them? There don't seem to be many organic options. One of the studies recommends the "natural" insecticide Bacillus thuringiensis Kurstaki - but don't ask me where I'd get hold of it. (Wonder how many times longer than the bacteria the name is?) There is also an insect with the equally wonderful name of Macrolophus caliginosus Wagner, which feeds off the eggs and hatchling larvae - but ditto, and would it stay on the balcony anyway? Another source suggested companion planting. Highly aromatic plants like lavender, mint and thyme are supposed to discourage the butterfly. Well, I can try - but I have my doubts. By pure chance I did have mint growing fairly near the pelargoniums this year. Not close enough maybe ...

Other than that, it seems there are only two choices - swamp the plants with noxious chemicals, or give up on pelargoniums all together. Don't like the first, and don't want to do the second. But it seems the only other option is to invite yet another massacre ...

Useful Links

Lupi and Zucker, The butterfly cacyreus marshalli in Northern Italy and susceptibility of commercial cultivars of pelargonium.

Regione del Veneto, Il licenide dei gerani

Roll on November ...

2009-10-18T13:00:00.008+02:00

This was the week that the temperature dropped 10°C overnight. Last Sunday I went to the garden centre wearing only a T-shirt (well, no - I had trousers on too, but you know what I mean...) Today I'm sitting at home with the heating on and I've still had to put on a long sleeved jumper (that's a sweater for anyone who lives west of County Kerry).

It started with two days of heavy winds. Wind is unusual in Milan, but very welcome - it blows away the pall of smog that usually envelops the city. And last week, the Foehn was blowing.

Now, I'm sure I've posted about the Foehn before - but I can't for the life of me find the post. Was it one I started and then deleted? Who knows. But apologies if you've read this before.

The Foehn is a wind which occurs around a mountain range. It has different names in different countries - the Helm wind in the UK, the Chinook in the US and Canada, the Bergwind in South Africa - and many, many more. Don't ask me to explain the details - it's something about the "different adiabatic lapse rates of moist and dry air." Yeah, well - perhaps that's why I deleted the post ...

It's a strong, gusty wind which in Milan usually brings down branches from trees and often the trees themselves. But it's a warm wind - when the Foehn blows the temperature usually rises.

So it was even more of a shock to wake up at five the next morning, freezing to death. The temperature had plummeted overnight, and the single blanket that we'd been using just wasn't enough any more.

The rest of the week has been a constant rush to catch up. Winter clothes have come out of the cupboards, plants have come in from the balcony (yes, don't worry - I'll get back to the plants in a minute), and on trips to the supermarket I'm no longer stocking up with salad but with beans, lentils, and other stuff for good hearty soups and casseroles.

The plants on the balcony don't like it any more than we do. The photos above are from ten days ago - the plumbago was still in full bloom, the sunflower was developing a good crop of seed heads and the petunias and marigolds were appreciating the cooler weather and looking better than they had in August. Now they're looking considerably shell shocked.

This is the sunflower today. I'll spare you the others - this is a family blog.

And ever the optimist in the garden, in the last few weeks, with temperatures around 20°C - that's 68°F - I was still doing some late sowing. Now with temperatures around 10°C/50°F, I suspect I was wasting my time.

But every season has its advantages and as one set of plants dies, another always takes over. Look at that photo of the sunflower again. See the chrysanths behind it? And see how many buds? Roll on November ...

When Pets Become Pests ...

2009-10-14T15:43:00.006+02:00

It's not every day that a London bird makes the evening news on Italian TV. But the other night there was a short feature on the bird which is probably now the most frequently seen visitor in my London garden - the rose ringed parakeet.

I posted about them two years ago, the last time I was in London, talking about how they are increasing exponentially and the problems they are causing. This year they were even more in evidence. The population is now generally supposed to be about 30,000 with the RSPB predicting 50,000 by 2010 - all descendants of escaped pets (or if you believe some reports, of a flock which escaped from Shepperton Studios during the filming of the Bogart/Hepburn movie The African Queen. Whaat?! You mean that river was really the Thames??)

I always look forward to seeing them in the garden when I go back. They're great to watch : colourful and very funny. They're clowns who give a circus performance every time they fly in. But I can see why - and this is what got them onto the Italian news - they have now officially been listed as vermin. Which means that they can now legally be killed, under general license, by landowners who can show that they are damaging their property.

And they do cause damage, as my neighbour - who has four or five fruit trees in her garden knows. I doubt if she got a single item of fruit this year which didn't have a large lump taken out of it.

OK, maybe if they're in your garden you put up with it. I would, and my neighbour didn't seem particularly bothered. Even if she was, the new law certainly doesn't give householders carte blanche to start killing the birds. The general license list specifies particular reasons for which specific birds may be killed, including damage to crops, health and safety risks, and threats to other wildlife. Anyone killing a bird on the list without one of these reasons faces a £5,000 fine or a six-month prison sentence. For the ring-necked parakeets, one of the reasons accepted is crop damage. Fruit trees in the back garden may not count as "crops", but the birds are causing considerable problems for commercial fruit growers in Kent and other areas, and I can well understand that they might consider culling.

The second justification specified is because of the threat to other wildlife. The parakeets have also been accused of causing a vast reduction in the numbers of other species of birds. They nest in hollow trees and have simply moved into all the available space, leaving nothing for the other species. Controversy rages about how true this is, but something is clearly displacing the tree-nesters. I said two years ago that the woodpeckers and nuthatches seemed to have disappeared from the garden. But at that time the owls were still holding their own. This year there were none, for the first time ever since I was a child.

So the parakeets have joined pigeons, crows and magpies - the last two also clearly on the increase from the numbers I saw - on the list of official pests, together with a couple of other new additions, such as the Canada Goose - again regarded as a danger to crops, and also a public health and safety problem.

The London Wildlife Trust has opposed the placing of both birds on the list, while the RSPB has suggested that there is a need for more evidence of the impact the parakeets have outside urban areas. And amongst Londoners, opinion is divided. The parakeets were once called "the grey squirrel of the skies" - an apt description. Like the grey squirrels, they're a non-native species which has become dominant, displacing native species. And like the grey squirrel you either love them or you hate them.

Me? Well, I'm the one who feels guilty if she kills a few red spider mite, so you can imagine ... But as I said in a recent post, I love seeing grey squirrels in the garden - and I guess that goes for the variety from the skies too.

Explore some more ...

How do parakeets survive in the UK? BBC Website

Is it time to start culling parakeets? The Guardian

Britains's naturalised parrot now officially a pest The Independent

Statement on Monk and Ring-necked Parakeets Natural England

No open season on shooting parakeets, says RSPB Wandsworth Guardian

Are parakeets threatened with control? London Wildlife Trust

Weeds...

2009-10-10T13:03:00.002+02:00

One of the advantages of balcony gardening is that you don't get weeds. Not having a garden means that, of necessity you're using bought - and sterilised - compost, and though the odd thing will float in on the wind, it's relatively rare. Tip the soil into your container, pop in your plants, and that's it for the season. So you get to be a bit ingenuous about weeds ...

One of the jobs I worked hardest on when I was in London in July and August was clearing and replanting the flowerbeds - I found them completely overgrown with grass and borage. I didn't even think of it as "weeding". The beds just had to be completely dug over and everything pulled out.

And then, I started planting. Bulbs galore went in, but I also scoured the local garden centres for special offers, so that I could get as much planted as possible on a budget that was rapidly being eaten up by the repairs that needed doing on the house.

So when I left at the end of August, the beds were looking - well, a bit bare, but I hoped the bulbs would take care of that. And there were new roses, pansies, lavender bushes and other things dotted around.

Two weeks later I was back. And walked into a sea of green - which certainly had nothing to do with the bulbs. The garden was covered with one particular weed, which try as I might I can't find the name of (?). I can't say I wasn't expecting it - but the speed with which it had sprung up was incredible. Plant seeds that you want to have in the garden, and after two weeks they're only just thinking of germinating. But these had just yelled Yippee! Bare soil and sprung up in their thousands. Helped along, of course, by a bit of grass and an entirely new crop of borage.

Luckily, they're a weed which is very easily dealt with. Grab a handful and pull, or hoe. They come out with no problem. So a few hours of hard work later, the beds were looking bare but pristine again. And even more luckily, they'd not had time to seed. I'm hoping that all the seeds that my August digging had brought to the surface had germinated immediately, so that I was able to get the lot in one fell swoop.

I can hear you laughing hysterically from here. No, I don't really believe it either. I'll be back in London in a few weeks time, and I'm sure I'll find the beds covered again. But if I get rid of that lot, and the next ones that come up are killed off by the winter weather, then maybe by next year things will be better. Please ...?

Berries

2009-10-06T13:45:00.007+02:00

When I left England, there wasn't much in flower in the garden but it was full of berries. Red ones, orange ones, purple ones and white ones .... everywhere you turned there was a mass of colour. Folklore would have it that an abundance of berries in autumn heralds a hard winter, and if my garden is anything to go by, it's going to be a tough one ...

The purple ones were the elderberries. Strictly speaking these aren't in my garden, as the tree is actually in the park behind. But the branches have spread over my fence. In the spring the flowers must have been wonderful, and now there's a mass of berries. If I were there permanently, I'd have used them to make wine ... or a pie ... or a sauce. Just google elderberries recipe and see what comes up. I rather liked the look of this one from The Times Online.

Sadly, the elderberry tree is leaning on the fence so heavily that it's bringing the fence down, and I've had to ask the council to lop it. I did ask them to take away the minimum possible though ...

Then there are the snowberries. Snowberry is a scrubby little bush which has the extremely inflated name of Symphoricarpos albus - always sounds like something out of Harry Potter to me. Not a shrub I'd really recommend - invasive, and the leaves and small pink flowers are not desperately attractive. But the berries are nice in autumn. Mine self seeded years ago, and for years I toiled away trying to dig it up. But it always sprang straight back and in the end I gave up. However, it does have the virtue that it's just about the only thing which will grow in the shade of the cotoneaster tree.

Not sure what variety this is, and can't for the life of me remember what its flowers are like. Sadly, I've not seen the garden in spring for over twenty five years. But it's always covered in berries in the autumn.

There's another cotoneaster in the garden as well - cotoneaster horizontalis - a much smaller shrub, but if possible with even more berries.

Cotoneaster is a word I have a mental block about. I have to look it up every single time I want to talk about the plant. It's odd, because that it's not that I don't know what the plant itself is - I do. But the name that always comes to mind is pyrocantha, despite the fact that I know perfectly well that it's not. So that's what I tend to call it to myself : the not-pyrocantha plant.

I do have a real pyrocantha though as part of my front hedge, currently covered in yellowy-orange berries.

I curse it all summer when I have to cut the hedge - it's full of thorns which get through even the thickest gardening gloves. But the show in autumn makes it worthwhile.

So - if we are in for a hard winter, at least the birds will have something to eat. If you're trying to grow a wildlife garden, they're all plants to include. Different species feed off them all - though snowberries (which are poisonous to humans incidentally) are preferred by pheasants, grouse and other similar species. Not many of them in a London garden. But blackbirds are supposed to love the pyrocantha berries and the elderberries and cotoneaster seem generally popular. At the moment, with food abundant, they're being ignored. But once the fruit trees are bare, and there are fewer seeds and insects around, the situation will change. In particular, I suspect we'll soon be a favourite haunt of the rose-ringed parakeets. But more of them in another post...

Hummingbird Hawk-moth

2009-10-02T22:10:00.003+02:00

Mum, come quick - there's a thing on your plants!

And what a thing. It was a Hummingbird Hawk-moth (Macroglossum stellatarum) - an insect which visits the balcony occasionally, but is by no means common. If I see one a year I'm lucky, and this was certainly the first I've spotted this year.

Excuse the not-exactly-perfect photos. They're not called Hummingbird Hawk-moths for nothing - they don't land on the plants but hover above them, keeping themselves alight by rapid wing flapping while they suck the nectar through their long proboscis (you can see it in the second and last photos). And they flit frequently from flower to flower. Which makes them difficult to photograph - especially when you've had to rush back into the house desperately trying to remember where you'd left your camera, and praying it would still be there when you got back. Which it was - but I had no time to worry about camera settings. I just clicked and hoped. However, if you follow some of the links you'll find some much clearer photos.

I knew they were described in a book I have (Collins Complete Guide to British Wildlife - a super book for basic identification of plants, birds, animals and insects found in the UK which I recommend highly), so later I went to look it up. They are apparently widespread across Mediterranean countries, central Asia and Japan, and get as far north as Scotland in the summer. In fact, following things up on the web later, I came across the UK Butterfly Conservation site, where you can record sightings. Mine's there now.

The adults love plumbago - that's where I almost always see them. But the book told me that the larvae feed on bedstraw.

My mind boggled. Was this beautiful insect in danger of dying out because of a lack of impoverished peasants stuffing their mattresses with straw? Were hypoallergenic fillings signalling the end of a species?

But no. Bedstraw is the common name of the genus Galium - which includes wildflowers such as Lady's Bedstraw and Hedge Bedstraw. I've not seen either growing much around Milan - which probably explains why we don't see the moths very often.

Moths. They look so different that it's hard to believe they really are moths - and one Italian site I found says that their visitors often mistake them for real hummingbirds. No sorry - not in Europe. I wish.

Ah well - that was my annual sighting, I thought. But then I came across this on the BBC Science and Nature site : Studies have noted that they have a remarkable memory, and return to the same flowerbeds at the same time everyday.

So maybe I should keep an eye open over the weekend.

Explore some more ...

Other nice sites which describe the hummingbird hawk-moth include :

Skywatch Friday : Alps

2009-10-01T20:34:00.002+02:00

Last week, I flew back to Milan from London. It was a beautifully clear day, with almost no cloud, providing wonderful views of Europe below. The white cliffs of Dover, the Seine winding through Paris, the Eiffel Tower and Versailles - they were all clearly visible.

Despite oohing and aahing for most of the trip though, it didn't occur to me that I had my camera in my bag until we reached the Alps. And thank goodness it finally did, because there the show really started. First there were the lower mountains, punctuated by long, twisting valleys with tiny houses clustered along the bottoms ...

But then we got into the high peaks. Where were we exactly? I'm not sure. Could that have been the Mont Blanc and the Matterhorn in the pictures below? I wish airlines would tell you where you were more often. German Wings used to have wonderful little screens dotted around the cabin which showed you your route, and exactly where the plane had got to, but even they seem to have discontinued it.

Wherever we were, it was a flight I won't forget.

For more great photos of the sky and from the sky, check out the Skywatch Friday site. Of the photos already posted this week, some of my favourites were on Stony River in Ireland. Enjoy.

Oh my goodness ...

2009-09-30T17:55:00.004+02:00

I am, as a close friend of mine would say, gobstruck. Now I know what they feel like on Oscar night. You know, they're sat there at their tables trying to look as if they're really enjoying themselves while someone a lot more famous jokes around and fumbles with the envelope. Smiles are fixed on with Bostik and they're all ready to applaud and make gracious comments when they lose. And then come the words And the winner is ... and suddenly they're up on the stage looking dazed and stuttering out something about being sure they'd lose and not having even thought about an acceptance speech.

No, I've never believed it either, but in this case it's true. When The Balcony Garden was nominated for Best Container Gardening Blog in the Blotanical awards, I looked at the competition and thought Well, you can forget about that then .... I knew three of the other blogs nominated well - Soliloquy, Flowergardengirl, and Plants are the Strangest People - and when I toddled over to have a look at the fourth - Garden Geek - the depression just deepened.

I was sure I knew the order we'd all come in. I'd even got this post mentally written out, congratulating the winner, talking about how chuffed I was even to get into the final five and thanking the people who did vote for me.

But that's where I don't have to change anything in the planned post. Because I was over the moon to think that enough people liked the BG enough to get me into the final five, and I do want to say a huge thank you to all of you who voted the blog into first place - OK, OK and even to those who just thought about voting for me, Mania.

Because, for all the categories, voting was enormously difficult. Time after time there were at least two blogs nominated which I thought were equally good. How do you choose ? I tied myself in knots trying to be fair, looking carefully at all the blogs in the categories I was voting for and mentally awarding points for all sorts of things to see who came out top. And I'm still not sure that I got it right.

As for the winners - well, all of them are obviously excellent blogs and well deserving. And in general, a blog which I thought missed out in one category won in another. But there are a few results which, personally, I found surprising - blogs which I thought would walk away with an award but "only" came third or fourth. "Only". It's a word which doesn't make sense given just how strong the competition was in many of the categories. And as I said, it was certainly true in mine. So if you've never come across any of the other four blogs which were nominated, do yourself a favour and go visit them. But only, of course, if you promise not to vote for them next year :)

Wow! I've been nominated ..

2009-09-25T17:06:00.005+02:00

OK, well - I was going to ignore it. I mean play it cool and not make a big deal of it. But then I go into other sites and see they're all yelling VOTE FOR ME! Well, if the competition is going to be brash about it, then perhaps I should say something ...

I've been nominated for the 2009 Blotanical Awards, for the Best Container Gardening Blog. I don't know who nominated me but thank you, thank you, thank you. I honestly didn't expect it, and just making it into the top five makes me feel great, regardless of the final result. A big hug to all of you ...

But for those of you who haven't been here much before, and who aren't sure why I've been nominated - here are a couple of links to some of the posts that I've enjoyed writing the most. Decide for yourselves, and may the best container gardening blog win!

Growing Cotton on the Balcony

Tulips - The Second Year

Balcony Gardening - Or Just Exterior Decorating?

Form and Colour, Colour and Form

or, try this collection of posts with the label Working on the Balcony

Best Container Gardening Blog is only one category though and there are a lot of others to vote for. In fact, I admit to being a bit bemused. There are 75 all together (mainly because each US state has its own) and in some categories I'd happily vote for any of the finalists. How do you choose ?

Voting is open for another couple of days (and not 285 as Stuart's delightfully idiosyncratic counter is telling us), so if you're a Blotanical member but have not yet cast your vote, do nip over to the site and have a look.

Skywatch Friday : Buzzard

2009-09-24T20:00:00.003+02:00

While we were at Eraclea Mare, we went on a lot of long bike rides - through the fields, around the lagoon, and along the river path. On one of them I spotted a buzzard (buteo buteo) circling far overhead. It was a perfect day : bright blue skies with patches of fluffy cloud, and as he circled he passed from one to the other.

Buzzards are now common throughout Europe and also in various areas of Asia - there are estimated to be over 4m of them. Yet I don't think I'd ever seen a buzzard until a few years ago, when I started to notice them in North Germany. We go there each year for Christmas, and in the winter, when the trees are bare, they can often be seen as you drive down the motorways, perched on tree branches. But seen like that they're small, fleeting silhouettes. You can recognise them by their shape - the plump body and stubby tail (it is when they're perched) are giveaways - but there's no great satisfaction involved.

This time it was different. Despite the height at which the bird was flying, with the aid of my camera zoom it felt almost touchable. Definitely one of the highlights of the holiday.

Check out the other Skywatch Friday posts here. I had to wait a while this evening to find one worth recommending - but I did enjoy this one from Finland.

Hints of Autumn

2009-09-21T22:49:00.003+02:00

Summer doesn't want to die this year. I came over to England with a case full of warm clothes, but I've not needed them. It's been warm and sunny. Not too hot - but warm enough to be out in a t-shirt. Perfect gardening weather

But we've reached the autumn equinox and from now on we're heading for winter, whatever the current temperatures are telling us. This is the time of the "transumanza" - when, in Italy, the flocks of sheep and cattle would traditionally be brought back from their summer pastures in the mountains to lower and milder climes. We may be lucky and ease in gently - tradition has it that the weather between the 21st and 23rd of September sets the pattern for the rest of the autumn - but it's time to get ready.

Even while we were at the sea earlier in the month, the clues were there. It still seemed like summer weather, but even when we arrived, the Virginia Creeper was telling a different story. And by the time we left, just over a week later, there was no way of pretending not to notice.

The squirrels in my garden know. They don't play any longer - all day they're back and forth, burying nuts. The warm weather hasn't fooled them. Hard times are coming.

The plants know too. Their blooms have given way to seed pods and berries.

And the trees know. It's already time to get the rake out.

Winter's on the way.

Bright Spots in the Garden

2009-09-20T21:24:00.002+02:00

I've been back in England for a week, thinking that we might finally get the finishing touches put to the house and get it ready for letting again. But it seems that every time we do one thing, another ten problems arise - and rather than finish off decorating the bathroom this week, we've had to strip it down to the bricks and start again. So I'm going to be coming back and forth for most of the autumn ..

But if the house is still a disaster, the good weather this week has given me time to get on with the garden, and it is very gradually coming into shape. But despite the jungle that I found in July, it wasn't all doom and gloom, even at the start. There were a number of plants which hadn't completely succumbed to neglect and were bravely flowering on, against the odds. Like the roses which, despite being covered in black spot, continued to put out the odd flower.

Then there was the hebe bush. It was already past its best when I got back in mid-July, but you could still see how glorious it had been. The bush self-seeded several years ago, in another part of the garden where I didn't want it. I transferred it when it was a tiny little twig, not sure if it would take. It's now five foot high and four foot wide, and was covered in blooms, much to the delight of the local butterflies.

Another bush of about the same size was the fuchsia by the front gate. It's been there for as long as I remember - at least thirty years, possibly longer. It's not my favourite fuchsia variety, but what it lacks in the quality of the blooms, it certainly makes up for in quantity.

A number of plants had self-seeded in awkward places, but were doing the best they could. These sweet peas had grabbed hold of the conifer to support them ...

while the cracks in the paths had provided a home for the alyssum.

Add to that the hydrangeas which I've already posted about, and there was at least a bit of relief from the weeds. More colour was provided by the berries, which are now glorious - but I'm going to save that for another post.

Skywatch Friday : Sea and Sky

2009-09-17T19:50:00.001+02:00

If you want to go surfing, the Adriatic coast is not the place to be. The wide flat sands mean the water is extremely shallow - in some places you can walk out for a good distance from the shore and still only be up to your knees. Put this together with the relatively enclosed geography of the sea, and if the weather is good you normally get millpond conditions.

The nine days we spent there were nearly all hot and sunny. But there was one day when the wind got up.

The area is famous for a wind known as the Bora, which blows about 40 days a year and affects both the North Italian and Croatian coasts. It's caused by an area of high pressure from the polar regions meeting warmer air from the Adriatic. It frequently gets up to over 120km an hour, and though nothing like that when we were there, was strong enough to force me off my bike.

The winds whipped up a few waves, and I was able to get these photos of the sea and the sky for Skywatch Friday. Enjoy.

If you want to see some other great photos contributed to Skywatch this week, check out this pic of the sky over a lake and mountains in Austria or this sunset over Annapurna. They make mine look feeble.

Dead Man's Lagoon

2009-09-17T10:53:00.004+02:00

Have you ever fallen in love with a place at first sight? It happened to me last week. After we'd gone back to Italy, my son and I went back to Eraclea Mare for a week at the sea. We'd been there last year and loved it (see here), but what we didn't realise was that we'd missed the best bit.

Eraclea Mare is situated not far from Venice, along the north west Adriatic coast. You probably know that Venice itself is built on a lagoon, but in fact lagoon areas extend much further up the coast. There is one, for instance at Caorle, where we used to spend our holidays until we discoved Eraclea, made famous by Hemingway who used to go duck shooting there.

Eraclea's lagoon is different. It's smaller - only two square kilometers, is (thankfully) a nature reserve, and until 1935 didn't exist at all.

La Laguna del Mort (Dead Man's Lagoon) was formed when the River Piave, which used to run parallel to the sea for a couple of kilometers, overflowed its right bank, flooded the strip of land between the river and the sea, and changed course overnight, reaching the sea a couple of kilometers further up. The land between the old mouth of the river (pic above) and the new (below) became a lagoon.

Why didn't we explore it last year? Firstly because we had the rest of the area to get to know, and secondly because I was aching too much after a morning on horseback to contemplate the bike riding or walking necessary to get there. This year all the work in the garden in London must have made me fitter - I managed to do both.

From the village you can either cycle through the fields to the far end of the lagoon, or walk along the paths which lead through the sand dunes and pinewoods which border the wetland area. We did both, several times, and in later posts I'll blog about the plants and the wildlife we saw there. But for now, just enjoy the landscape.

Why the name? Not sure. If the net is to be believed there was once a corpse in the lagoon which every so often would rise to the surface to frighten passersby. Hmm - none of the local people seemed to have heard of that one. They appeared to think the "death" referred to the death of the river (though I've translated the name as Dead Man's Lagoon, a more literal translation would be The Lagoon of the Dead One, so it's not impossible). That seems strange though, as the river didn't actually disappear. I'm keeping an open mind.

We were there at the end of the season, and on a cloudy day. We had the place almost to ourselves. The beach however is well-known for being a naturist beach and (again if the net is to be believed) a rather steamy one at that. Oh well, the beach is separated from the lagoon itself by sand dunes and I guess it's big enough for both naturists and naturalists. I for one shall be going back.

Skywatch Friday : Another London Sunset

2009-09-03T19:34:00.000+02:00

Just one photo today, but I loved the layered effect of these clouds over South London at the end of August. The photo was taken at about 8.40 pm.