Orto di Casa Cecconi

My first allotment, and then one thing leading to another…

  • Aesculus (Week 20, Tuesday)

    You know what I was writing the other day about the media breeding hysteria in the public about plant pests and diseases? I was going to write about horse-chestnut today (Aesculus hippocastanum) and I found this article in Gardens Illustrated, which by the way is supposed to be an interview with Kew’s botanists, about the horse-chestnut leaf miner (Cameraria ohridella) whose first line goes:

    The British conker is under threat due to an alien attacker, according to experts from Kew. 

    I am pretty sure they would not say that and yes, that annoys me, especially as the Forestry Commission’s description of the impact on the tree goes:

    Despite the poor appearance of horse-chestnut trees infested with C. ohridella, there is no evidence that damage by the moth leads to a decline in tree health, the development of dieback, or tree death. Trees survive repeated infestations and re-flush normally in the following year. 

    Rather helpfully, the RHS asks for the citizens’ participation in a monitoring exercise to understand the pest and its effects better. And at Kew an experiment is undergoing, on which one of my student colleagues is centering her final project. One of the A. hippocastanum at Kew was injected some four years ago with a chemical against the moth. While the chemical is not active any more in the plant, it would appear that attacks from the moth are however having a smaller impact than they used to before the treatment… investigating why that is the case is what my colleague is doing.


    Anyway, today – team day – we were doing the tree circles around Aesculus, which triggered the idea for this post. Majestic trees, horse-chestnuts, and the damage of the leaf miner to European native A. hippocastanum is rather ugly to the sight, and can cause premature leaf fall.

    A. indica

    In response to this new pest, it has been suggested to use alternative species in the garden, namely A. indica (Indian horse chestnut).

    But the American ones are also attractive and do not seem affected.

    Their common name is “buckeye”, due to the appearance of the fruits: brown with a pale scar, like a stag’s eye.




    A. sylvatica (painted buckeye), a large shrub or small tree.

    A. sylvatica

    I found a description of the tree and its colour variations in the Falls Lake area on a blog.



    A. flava (sweet or yellow buckeye) is a larger tree, with yellow flowers, also described in the PFAF database.

    A.flava


























    A. californica, which was still flowering, by the way, has pleasant, smaller dark green leaves. I noticed it a while ago while walking into the yard (next to which – lakeside – this part of the Aesculus collection is located; there are more Aesculus next to the Pavillion restaurant).

    A. californica



    A. discolor a synonym for A. pavia (red buckeye) is a shrubby tree with red flowers

    A. discolor



    and my very favourite: A. glabra var. arguta (Texas buckeye) with rather distinctive, narrow lanceolate leaflets, that also look thicker and shinier (smooth, as the name implies), akin to an evergreen’s.

    A. glabra var. arguta

    About the seeds of these plants, I have read that the conkers are not as suitable for the namesake game from the other species as they are from A. hippocastanus. All, however, are mildly poisonous, as they contain bitter saponins (deer and wild boar do not seem to mind however), even though some species are eaten, cooked after leaching out the poisonous chemicals.

    How easy it is to tell conkers apart from sweet chestnuts? Although I have never had any problems myself, I have seen people mixing them up, which is obviously not good given the latter is delicious raw or cooked while the former may give you a stomach upset.

    I find sweet chestnuts are flat on one site and rounded on the other, mostly with a typical heart shape, point up, which sometimes terminates in a fan of hairs.

    Conkers are rounder on both sides, and, in fact I have one here with me as I write. I have had it for a few years – in Italy the saying goes that if  you keep a conker in your pocket, it will ward off colds! That does not sound very scientific at all, but I like the smooth shape of a conker so I’m keeping it: it’s as hard as a stone now! I wonder whether it would still grow if I sow it now…

    … seedling … 
    … and sapling!

    … talking of germinating conkers, over these few months I have found quite a few seedlings and saplings of Aesculus in the South Canal beds (those and Juglans nigra’s), so I suspect it must be the squirrels – obviously also immune to saponins!

  • Onto bed 6 (Week 20, Monday)

    Today, being Monday, I looked for a soft start, and very conveniently I could refer to a chat I had had with my manager on Friday. A species Crataegus was reverting back to the rootstock, outside our area, and I offered to cut all the suckers. I have already mentioned how suckers from the rootstock may draw so much energy from a grafted plant to kill the species that was grafted on it. This is an example.

    At first sight, this might seem a thriving, if slightly messy, little tree. But if you look closer, the leaves are not what they are supposed to be. This should be a Crataegus succulenta, with entire, serrated leaves (I know, because there are some around in the area. If I had not seen those, I would have checked on the web). Most of the leaves you can see are lobed, typical of C. monogyna, which incidentally is also the most common rootstock. If you look carefully, however, in between them, overpowered, are some chlorotic entire leaves…



    … and after cutting back all the suckers, the species is revealed! Not thriving at the moment, it might need propagating, if we can get some good material.

    After warming up with that, I started on bed 6 of 6, or 437-01 as it is called within the South Canal beds area. It is pretty much a solid block of greenery, mainly Cotoneaster and Spiraea, at the moment.

    Bed 437-01, outward facing side (click to enlarge)

    My colleague has cut the shrubs back to the edge of the bed already. If everything goes to plan, by the end of the next two weeks, most plants will be clearly delineated, so that I can stockcheck them, finding the labels and assessing the health conditions of the plant.

    It was not a great start. Somewhat unexpectedly, as soon as I walked through the first shrub, I found a load of litter inside the bed. I hope it was not a human being ripping apart a bin bag full of stuff… but anyway, I had to do garbage collection as a first thing, which was not very pleasant, but now it’s done; weeding of the front of the bed is also done, and a handful of shrubs have been cut back to their allotted space. No pictures, for the time being, all will be revealed in due course.

    A couple of trips to the compost heap to tip my woody cuttings, and those of some colleagues I was helping with the tractor, and the first day of my last but one week at Kew was gone. Tomorrow is team day.

  • Goodbyes galore (Week 19, Friday)

    More goodbyes today as the apprentices left the Arboretum to go under glass (that is what they do in their second year). This trickle of people going away keeps reminding me of my imminent departure and is making me rather sad.

    Today it was raining, so it was the perfect time to do the preliminary stockcheck of the bed I’ve been working on on the last two weeks, so that’s what I did, weeding as I went along. The 5th of 6 beds is almost complete, but the 6th and last is mostly overgrown Cotoneaster, so it will be a challenge…

    My manager came out, had another look around, and said my work has had a big impact on the South Canal beds, and I may be proud of what I have achieved.

    And so I should, it’s been nice of him to say… but at the moment, it is the thought of leaving the plants I have cared for so much that is foremost in my mind.

    Anyway, the area looks good. The plants I cut back earlier on are filling up again and look more natural, and pomes are colouring up on all species: Cotoneaster, Crataegus, Malus, Pyrus… while we still have some flowering Spiraea and the Potentilla of course…

    Cotoneaster sp.

    Potentilla ‘ochroloeuca’
    Spiraea micrantha
    Spiraea virginiana
    Malus baccata
    Malus toringoides

    Next week the new trainees and apprentices (8 people, four in my team and four in the other Arboretum team) will start their respective one year and three years journeys. Another cycle begins…

  • When the Cotoneaster swallowed a Sibiraea (Week 19, Wednesday and Thursday)

    … but the story begins with an overgrown Pyracantha that was in the way of grass mowing.

    That is what I started to tackle, which took me one day and a half, as it turned out it was likely two Pyracantha, very similar but different enough (to be confirmed).

    And when those two plants were brought back into their allotted space, it became clear there was a plant, behind the Cotoneaster, that I had never seen before: its leaves reminded me of a Euphorbia….

    But it is probably worth starting the story from the beginning, with Kew chronically understaffed, so that not all areas get a permanent member of staff to care for them. Students get 3 months placements in different areas of the gardens, while apprentices and trainees get to stay one year in the Arboretum, but they spend six months each in the two different teams… the result is that learning is maximised for the individuals concerned, but some areas may suffer from lack of continuity in management. In an area with suckering and freely self-seeding specimens as the one I am working in, matters can quickly get out of hand, and that is what I think happened. Hence, all my crawling under overgrown plants and large scale cutting back.

    It did take me a couple of month to get my head round what was needed, and it was only when I started the stockchecking project that getting in depth knowledge of the plants in the beds gave me the confidence to start tackling the overgrown shrubs. After that I thrived, and you know that I enjoyed talking about it – this story is another one of my much cherished adventures.

    The Pyracanthas, when I started on them

    The Pyracantha was the perfect practice ground for my newly refreshed and recently expanded pruning skills. Daunting, though. I started going round the plant and trying to understand where to start from. Then cutting the more obviously misplaced branches. Then I did not seem to know what to tackle next and felt so overwhelmed… when I remembered Rossana’s advice: clean everything around you, so that you can have a good look at the plant.

    Which I did: there were plenty of leaves on the ground. And while I did that, it gradually became clearer how to proceed further.

     Some of the oldest branches were a real tangle, and they turned out to have some kind of dry rotting going on inside.

     

    The colour of the wood, and new growth in particular, and the slightest difference in the leaves’ and fruit’s shapes made me thing there must have been two different plants there, so I decided to tackle them separately. I will have to get someone to verify their identity later.

    Fruits: more rounded, darker on the right than on the left
    Reddish stem on left, whitish on right

    It took me most of the Wednesday to sort the first Pyracantha… then another couple of hours to sort the second one. There was air flowing through the stems at the end of it, and there were much fewer crossing, damaged and split ones (as many as could go while still leaving a solid framework to sustain the new growth, which is rather floppy in these two specimens) – that means healthier plants; besides, they still looked presentable enough for the enjoyment of the visitors.



    It was then that it became apparent that the Cotoneaster was encroaching on a plant new to me: Sibiraea angustata.

    A relative of Spiraea, native to China, Sibiraea has some medicinal use for indigestion in its native land, and – I read – has raised some scientific interest for containing eight new acylglucosides, in the class monoterpene.

    So I spent the rest of the day to ensure the health of this new plant, with rather satisfactory results. Pity I missed the flowers, they are out in June, pinkish and not too showy, I had a look on the web,,,

    Sibiraea angustata

    And here is a view of the bed, at the end of the two days. I will have to seed the grass edge, as the shade from the Pyracantha had killed the grass. But it looks otherwise good, doesn’t it?

    Front of the bed at the end of the two days

    Inside of the bed at the end of the two days
  • Fraxinus (Week 19, Tuesday)

    I get a bit miffed when the media get hold of a piece of news and make such a fuss about it and breed hysteria just to sell more. As it was with fungus Chalara fraxinea, which causes ash dieback, earlier in the year. Now ask anyone about plants and they will know practically nothing about them but they will be intimately acquainted with ash dieback and the fact that this foreign-imported disease will kill all of the UK beautiful native trees…

    I am told the same happened in the 70s with Dutch elm disease (so media-worthily shortened to DED) caused by fungi of the genus Ophiostoma. A friend was so surprised to see some elm seeds a while ago that she did not immediately identify them as such: she had unconsciously assumed there would not be literally any left…

    It is indeed a serious matter when a new pest, disease or invasive species is introduced in a new area. And Chalara is a notifiable disease, so if you spot it anywhere in the UK, you have to report it. What annoys me is the tones, as if it was not our very own fault, the fault of human activity, that is. It often is. In this case, one of the ways into the country for the fungus was likely that we imported trees from foreign nurseries because it was cheaper than growing them here.

    There are other famous cases of imported “aliens”. For example in the case of Fallopia japonica, or Japanese knotweed, which was highly prized for its garden worthiness in times past – fancy that, we are today introducing, to deal with that problem plant, a pest that is non-native too: insect Aphalara itadori… suspending judgement on that.

    Anyway, apart from getting miffed, I have started looking around and spotting ash trees. Fraxinus excelsior is indeed a beautifully graceful tree, with dark pinnate leaves and bunches of winged fruits in summer and autumn.

    Scientists across Europe are on alert and mobilised trying to find resistant specimens (there seem to be enough genetic diversity in the wild for that to happen) in order to understand what makes them so… they have also suddenly broken into the 21st century social media world by creating Facebook application “Fraxinus”, to harness the power of the crowd in identifying gene sequences…

    Fraxinus excelsior ‘Stricta’

    Back at work, today it was team day and we worked on the tree circles in and around our Fraxinus collection, so I had the opportunity to observe some close up.

    Fraxinus americana ‘Autumn Purple’



    Fraxinus paxiana


    The first thing I noticed is that not all ash has black buds like the F. excelsior species: they are all actually quite different in colour, ranging from pink to orange-brown and to black.

    Fraxinus sieboldiana
    Fraxinus excelsior

    Fraxinus mandschurica

    A fascinating journey, literally through a world of plants, at the end of which I got to pick my favourite: Fraxinus ornus, known as manna ash, which hails from South East Europe, with its dark green foliage and bright green seed. It has beige buds.

    Fraxinus ornus


     

  • RHS Wisley (Week 19, Monday)

    Today we went for a trip to the Royal Horticultural Society’s flagship garden in Surrey, Wisley.

    It is a beautifully manicured garden that I have had the pleasure to visit three times this year, with herbaceous borders by famous designers, trial grounds for plants so they can be judged for their garden worthiness and get an RHS Award of Garden Merit (AGM) if they excel, and – something that is really dear to my heart – an orchard (there’s also a veg patch).

    As this is a display garden, to show what can be achieved through best practice horticulture and quality plants, it is so different in both appearance and philosophy from Kew – a botanic garden, with scientific resarch for conservation of plant species at its heart… in fact, some of the differences include that while at Kew we display mostly species, at Wisley it’s mostly varieties and cultivars, and that plants in the glasshouses at Kew are by region or family/genera, while at Wisley they are grouped in an aesthetic arrangement.

    The gardens also started off much more recently than Kew gardens, as they date back to 1903 when the estate was donated to the Society.

    After getting a tour of the gardens and the glasshouse, as I had already seen the (lovely) pinetum and the heather collection this spring, I spent most of the time in the arboretum and orchard – and what a delightful time, as the weather got nicer over the day.

    Malus ioensis at Kew

    An interesting thing we were told about the orchard is that it has an ailing collection of plums, which is being propagated, it hosts the national rhubarb collection, 100 varieties of pears and a whopping 700 varieties of apples! Several training techniques are sampled in the orchard, which is really fascinating: I would like to have a stint as a gardener there.

    A fruiting apple tree at Wisley
    (sorry, did not get the names I was in a group)
    Malus ioensis

    A fruiting apple tree at Wisley
    (sorry, did not get the names I was in a group)

    As you know, Malus, Pyrus and Prunus are plants I work with every day, but there is a difference when they are grown for their natural shape, which is of interest to botanists (as is the case at Kew), and when they are pruned for cropping (for example the height and shape of the tree)! Without mentioning the size of the fruit (and likely the taste…)

    A trained pear tree at Wisley

    Engagement with visitors – for both education and entertainment purposes – is part of the mission of both Kew (where for example we are having the IncrEdibles festival this summer, to inform about edible plants) and Wisley, hence the displays and now they are trialling pick-your-own in the orchard, and are generally encouraging people to try (within reason) some of the fruit.

    Pyrus balansae at Kew

    The health of the plants is obviously a concern, and H&S of course – for example, we often find kids (and not only the little ones, adults seem to want to have their fair share too) climbing up trees in Kew, and that is not good on either account…

    Potentilla thurberi
    Potentilla thurberi

    At Wisley I spotted another Rosacea, which is so different from the ones I have in the South Canal beds: Potentilla thurberi ‘Monarch’s velvet’. It’s a herbaceous perennial, with palmate leaves and red flowers. I had previously only seen deciduous shrub Potentilla with pinnate leaves and white or yellow flowers!


    In the herbaceous beds, I found the use of dark leaves in the design quite intriguing, for example with the choice of dahlias and Sedum telephium (Atropurpureum Group) ‘Xenox’.

    The loveliest plant for me was Hydrangea paniculata ‘Kyushu’ , so fresh, white and light, like lace on a summer’s day…



    … and the species that struck me most was a delicate, graceful Pittosporum tenuifolium ‘Silver sheen’, the only one (of the ones I know in the genus) that I would choose for use in a garden – that is because in Italy Pittosporum tobira (with dark green obovate leaves) is a plant most often seen around toilets and showers on the beach and as a hedge around seaside towns… that association would definitely taint anyone’s perception of the plant’s garden worthiness… but this one is so different, with its dark stems and silver ovate leaves with dark margins!

  • The art and science of pruning (Week 18, Thursday and Friday)

    There are three basic rules to pruning:

    • avoid pruning; the best way to go is to choose a species suitable for its location, & the available space, right from the beginning,  then to get a good specimen of the species;
    • look at the plant as an individual: by all means look it up, learn what to do with it, then observe how it grows, flowers, fruits – each specimen in its environment is different, and applying rules from books is not that straightforward;
    • do the least damage possible to the plant: use the right tools for the jobs, sterilised, sharp and in good working order; cut misplaced branches when they are still small and can heal quicker, make clean cuts that allow the plant’s natural defences to kick in quickly, cause no damage to the bark (its physical protection), and leave no snags for pests & diseases to creep in through

    That’s the basics. And thanks goodness plants are generally rather more resilient than the theory of pruning principles makes them, otherwise there would be so many dead & diseased plants out there…

    … that said, plants in cultivated environments need some managing, in terms of

    Green wood blade (the raker

    tooths helps to clear the cut)

    • health (dead and diseased wood needs removing, by the way, there are specific saw blades for dead wood)
    • formative pruning, for shape 
    • pruning for productivity (flowering and fruiting)
    • rejuvenating neglected plants

    Pruning principles make sure pruning is done in the least damaging way for the plant. There are plenty of things to consider, and piles of books to describe them, but a quick summary could cover:

    Dry wood blade (peg tooths)
    • work in clean and safe surroundings, for H&S but also so you can see what you are doing; remove the cuttings as you go, so as to get a clear view of the plant at all times, and from different sides
    • remove first of all all dead and diseased material; crossing branches are the next thing to look at, as rubbing causes bark damage; but remember to leave a framework of old wood to sustain new growth, which otherwise will likely flop;
    • make clean cuts: smooth surfaces (that heal faster) with tools appropriate to the task and in good working order, sterilised to prevent the spread of diseases
    • cut above an outward-facing bud (so the plant does not get congested with the new growth), with a slant gently sloping away from it to avoid moisture accumulating around it; however, you should make a flat cut to protect opposite buds with the blunt thick blade of your bypass secateurs (bypass is better than anvil, as the latter sometimes crushes the stem – see also these pictures).
    • by the same principle, always cut a branch back to where it meets another, without leaving snags, 
    A bad cut: leaving snags and at an odd angle,

    it will stand out like a sore thumb

    • good aestheticsis never far removed from the plant’s health, so maintain the shape as natural as possible, that means: cut to a branch that is – at the crotch – no less than 1/3 of the diameter of the one that it originates from (this a. makes sure the branch that becomes the new leader has the strength to take the spurt of growth that will ensue b. will look more natural and not like you have axed the plant) and never cut where branches meet at odd angles, for example 90°
    • cut big branches in stages, and, to make sure they do not tear the bark under their weight on falling, use a two stage method: an undercut (some 5 cm) behind the first cut you are going to make, both of them some length away from where you want your final cut to be; that will allow you to have more control of the operation and make a clean final cut
    A bad cut: dieback of snag and  cut at the

    joint with a branch that was too small

    • when removing whole limbs, cut parallel to the branch collar and as close to the ground as possible (I mentioned this before with explanatory pictures) – by the way, V joints are weaker than U joints, so if you have to choose between which branches to cut, you know which one to go for!

    The biology of clean cuts and target pruning goes broadly like this.

    Parenchyma cells and wound healing



    Parenchyma cells are general-purpose cells with thin walls that form so-called ground tissue, filling in between other types of plant tissue. They are alive, and because they do not have a narrowly defined, specific function of their own, they can be easily repurposed by the plant to form callus when a wound is inflicted to it.

    A jugged surface slows down callus formation in two ways: first, there is more surface to cover; second, if parenchyma tissue around the wound has been crushed, the plant does not have ready cells on the spot to repurpose…

    Cambium and compartmentalisation of decay 

    Cambium is where plants produce new tissue. There are two concentric layers of cambium in a branch section: the cork cambium between the cork & the phloem, and the vascular cambium, that runs between the phloem and the sapwood. Cuts need to leave those areas intact: that is why we don’t cut flush to the trunk any longer.

    Where a branch joins the stem, the vascular tissue branches out as well to carry water & nutrients into it, and so does the cork cambium. These areas of branching, the branch collars, are where the plant is able to “compartmentalise” the wound: the way plants naturally heal. That works a bit like those sci-fi film spaceships that, having been hit by the enemy, shut out whole peripheral areas to save the core of the ship. Similar areas are present in the rootstock, where the stems join that come out of the ground.

    If we do not cut flush to the stem and through the branch collar, the main stem will continue to work properly (so will the rootstock of ground branches). However, if a snag is left, the cambium in the branch may never manage to heal completely. Snags often die back to the main stem anyway, but in the meantime, the area will have been exposed to pests and diseases, with weakened defences, the damage possibly increased by moisture accumulating inside the wound.


    Sometimes, however, the collar is not clearly visible, it’s rather long or the branch’s angle to the stem is odd and not easy to work with. The risk of damaging the bark (which is a physical barrier to access by pest & diseases, beside containing cambium), and the cambium areas, is high.

    So one might decide to make a cut perpendicular to the branch instead (so the wound has the least possible diameter), as close as possible to the stem, but leaving a little stump.

    I found a rather good tree pruning guide from the Central Bedfordshire Council. My sources are first and foremost my colleagues, to whom I owe a lot, Brown’s book on pruning (which they suggested, and that describes pruning plant by plant) and the RHS practical guide to pruning & training.

    All of this to say that I had the opportunity in the last two days to have some pruning training and join in in a session on renovating pruning, in which Rossana explained about our historical collection of Philadelphus and its renovation programme, and then I got to try what I had learnt on a Deutzia that needed summer pruning (deadheading and formative pruning).

    Deutzia before
    Deutzia after

    I felt rather a lot of pressure during the task, but I was satisfied with the result: the plant was airy, open in the centre, it had flowering stems for next year (Deutzia flowers on second year wood) and a pleasant shape, not weighted down by the massive seedheads from this year’s flowering.