Autumnal colour - but from Dahlias?

For most of us the autumn means a splash of red, gold and yellow foliage, windy days and cool or frosty nights.

In Holland Park, however, it is the last gasp of riotous colour in the Napoleon Garden that catches my attention. This small corner is so-named as it once housed a bust of the famous emperor who was much admired by a previous Lady Holland. Sadly the bust disappeared and many an hour has been wasted trying to guess where in the park it might be buried. 

The colour I refer to is from the dahlias that flower so prolifically there late in the summer each year before being cut down by the frosts of the autumn. The display is no accident and from 2012, as a part of the official diamond jubilee celebrations of the park, the plants will be supplied by the National Dahlia Collection.

Dahlias are natives of Mexico, Central America and Colombia and were first recorded by European explorers in 1615 (Francisco Hernandez, published this record much later, though, in his book on medicinal plants in 1651) and again in 1787 by Nicolas-Joseph Thiery de Menonville while looking for cochineal insects. Named after Anders Dahl, a Swedish botanist, seeds were sent back to Madrid and flowered in October 1789. These plants were called Dahlia coccinea and it is from them that Lord Bute obtained seeds to try growing in his garden in England. These failed.

The Dutch imported a box of roots around about this time and their sole surviving plant named Dahlia juarezii was crossed with the D. coccinea to produce a long line of hybrids that we now enjoy in our gardens today. 

A second species of dahlia - believed to be the dark petalled D. variabilis was successfully grown from Spanish seeds in 1804 by the head gardener in Holland House (now Park). 

Once only known and cultivated by the Aztecs for food and decoration, today we know of at least 36 species and on account of the dogged determination of garden plant breeders, enjoy a rich palette of dahlias. 

Autumn arrives

After a summer that will be remembered for the Arab Spring ... and the worst weekend weather, it is now back to serious blogging.

The riots I anticipated as a consequence of the record numbers of unemployed young people did indeed take place. Others have come up with their reasons for them, but I still hold that idle hands, rather than the increasing secularism of our society, was the major driver. Is that the last of them? I am sure not!

My love of haiku continues, as does my study of Zen Buddhism principally as an explanation of the inspiration behind the Kyoto garden in Holland Park that was radically altered earlier this year. I'll be posting a blog later specifically on that stroll garden to accompany the article (edited on my BlackBerry PlayBook whilst being flown across the Atlantic!) that will be appearing in the Friends of Holland Park magazine later this year.


Bee-keeping has joined my list of interests and I'm pleased to see that Holland Park has again produced in excess of 170 lbs. of honey this year despite the strange weather and unpredicted amount of swarming activity.

Photography occupies my walking outdoor moments though it is sad to see so many fine shots ruined by the absence of a blue sky. Clearly I am meant to study sepia or return to black and white compositions!

From haiku, photography and Zen, my attention is now shifting to the actual practice of zazen or sitting meditation. My day now starts with a good half hour of peaceful, mindful meditation and my principle guide is Andy Puddicombe whose book and iPod audio guides - Get Some Headspace - are  highly recommended. Aside from the sitting meditation, I am also endeavouring to take the practice (kinhin) on my daily walks and thrice weekly into the gym. 

And finely, no summer concludes without the results of London in Bloom - my talented team secured no less than seven Gold Awards and two Silver Gilts on top of seven Green Flag Awards: an excellent season in the office!

Japan beckons

Six weeks to go before I reach Japan for the first time! Wow - what a trip to look forward to!

My father fought in Burma during the Second World War and, I guess sub-consciously at least, I grew up with a dis-respect for the Japanese as a consequence (Dad was wounded by a sniper). However, once I started gardening and studying horticulture in the 1970's, I started to see Japan in a different light completely. How can one not be charmed and indeed enthralled by their attention to detail, their skill and love of craftsmanship, their knowledge and respect for the natural and spiritual worlds?

Much more recently, I have assumed the stewardship of the Kyoto Garden in Holland Park - a wonderful oasis of colour and serenity in the very heart of West London. It's an important garden in its own right too as a living symbol of the friendship and mutual respect that now has been restored between the people of Great Britain and Japan.

And topping that is my growing fascination with Japanese food. I was never a great fan of fish until I tasted fresh tuna sashimi . . . now I can't get enough Japanese food! Fortunately we are not too far away from one of London's finest restaurants: Tosa, (King's Street in Hammersmith).

I look forward to the bustle of Tokyo, the Bullet Train and finally Kyoto in the autumn!

August 2008

In the August edition of the “Leader’s Blog” by the Leader of Kensington and Chelsea Council, attention is drawn to the very negative response that some people have to trees. Where to you or I they provide shade, sustain the atmosphere or help prevent our precious soil from disappearing into the Thames, to others they are nothing more than a useful plaything on which to toughen their pet dog’s jaws.

At a recent commemorative tree planting in Holland Park, the former film director and now weekly critic / columnist in the Sunday Times (amongst others), Michael Winner, stated that trees “symbolise life”, and there can be no more poignant reminder of that when looking up through the now diseased branches of the chestnut tree that Ann Frank observed in Amsterdam from her hiding place “glistening with dew, the seagulls and other birds glinting with silver as they swooped through the air and we were so moved and entranced that we couldn’t speak…”. Despite the obvious dangers that that particular tree now presents on account of the extent of decay through it, the efforts to propagate new trees from it as a fall-back should the current efforts to save it are an inspiration.

I believe the oldest living species of tree is Metasequioia glyptostrodoides. A member of the Redwood tree family, its common name, Dawn Redwood, refers to the ‘dawn of time’ from whence it is thought to originate. For centuries, western scientists thought that it was extinct but in 1941 a small number of living specimens were discovered growing in the Sichuan province of China.

Rare or unusual trees are always a source of interest as much as the history behind them. In 2003 the London Naturalist published an extremely informative paper: Greater London as an arboretum – a guide to its trees. The authors are all authorities in their field and despite the evocative title of the paper (consider the whole of London as one big arboretum … ) it is particularly satisfying to see that they have included trees from the Royal borough. These include the olive tree growing in Chelsea Physic Garden that was featured in a more recent edition of the RHS Garden magazine (yes, we’ve all got an olive now thanks to these articles extolling the virtues of matching your plant choice to the changing climate!) but this doesn’t just bear fruit: it’s enormous! Another tree mentioned is the avocado Persea americana – also in Chelsea (and which I gather is fruit bearing so I won’t disclose its particular street-side location). And to complete the south of the borough, there are the Ginkgo in the Chelsea Physic Garden (dreadfully stinky when in fruit!) and Melia azedarach or what I was taught to know as a "Syringa" tree during my apprenticeship in central Africa rather than the Mediterranean from whence the species originate.

In the north of the Royal Borough, apart from an Australian Nettle Tree, Celtis australis, that excites the attention of colleagues who specialised in that flora, there’s also an extremely rare Ash – Fraxinus angustifolia ‘Veltheimii’ - in Little Wormwood Scrubs. This noble tree with its almost nonchalant wind-tossed branchlets is one of only a very few known to be planted in the United Kingdom and is of particular interest to myself on account of what appear to be saddle grafting scars. Saddle grafting is a now unusual technique where the already rooted host plant is “beheaded” and the resultant “stock” stem sharpened to a point. The “scion” (or plant being grafted onto it) is cut straight across and then has its base hollowed to take point of the stock - a bit like saddling a horse! A tight binding of grafting tape (and a great deal of luck in my experience) ensures a successful union and eventually strongly grafted plant. It is a great shame that this sort of nursery skill is both in short supply and rarely practiced as greater dependence is placed upon plants imported from around the world rather than grown at home. Is this the price of progress,

Holland Park probably has one of the most concentrated and diverse collections of trees of any corner of the borough. This worthy tradition is maintained – and protected - by the park management and Friends of Holland Park and is entirely in keeping with the original landowners’ various plantings of trees in what was once little more than open field. To be successfully appreciated such a treasure requires a reliable guide and this can be done either by accompanying the Friends on an organised tree walk (contact the Ecology Centre for further details) or by the purchasing of the recently launched guide produced by the Friends: Some Notable Trees of Holland Park – A Walk. Copies can be obtained from the Park Reception office which is open each day.

Later this year in Holland Park the Royal Borough's staff will be moving a number of Red Oak trees from their current positions beside the sports field to provide them and those remaining with more space in which to spread their branches. The equipment used for such an exercise is massive and operationally extremely technical, but this will ensure that future generations will be able to sit or lie on their backs underneath their shade and look up at blue sky breaking through the branches – just as Ann Frank did, and in whose memory a chestnut now stands on the opposite side of the sports field. It’s not just what trees symbolise … it’s that they are life that makes them so important.

The "flute" player here is one of the Japanese gardeners who visit the Kyoto Garden in Holland Park every few years to repair their handiwork.