Perhaps I’m a bit of a gardening masochist, but for me,
waiting’s half the fun. And with some of the plants in my garden, that means I’ve
had an awful lot of fun. The longest we’ve waited for something to flower so
far has been 25 years! Yes, I haven’t hit the wrong numerals on the keyboard –
25 years.
Back then, my better half and I visited InvereweGardens on the North West coast of Scotland on a beautifully-sunny day in
May and the gardens were, as always, wonderful. Now, in those days, before ludicrous
EU regulations came along, the gardeners at Inverewe used to collect seeds,
packet them, and sell them in the shop. It all helped raise cash for the National
Trust for Scotland to maintain the garden.
One of the packets of seed we bought was Rhododendron x falconeri. Now falconeri is one of those rhododendrons
that has leaves a foot long, wonderfully felted on the underside, grows as big
as a house, flowers early and luxuriates in the NW Scotland coastal climate
warmed by the Gulf Stream. So what idiot would try to grow it in the North East
of England? Well, me, for a start.
"They came up like cress!"
So, never having previously grown a single rhododendron from
seed, I sowed them in a tray, put them in an unheated propagator in a shady
north-facing conservatory, and never expected anything to come up. How wrong I
was. They came up like cress. I had a tray packed with rhododendron seedlings.
They were pricked out, potted on and sometimes neglected
just a bit too much. So the many, many seedlings in that tray back in eventually grew into about a dozen plants. Of course, these plants are all x falconeri, so every one is different
from the others. Some have small leaves, some have large. Some flower very
early, some a little later. Some have white flowers, others are tinged with
pink. And some are even scented.
The first of them flowered at about 10 years old. Its
flower buds begin swelling in mid January or early February, according to the
season, and it generally flowers in mid February or early March. Some years
frosts come at the cruellest time, just before the buds burst, and wipe out the
flowers before they can ever show. In other years we’ve had wonderful
frost-free weeks in which to enjoy our uniquely special rhododendron.
The others came into flower in the years following, but with a garden not
really big enough for large rhododendrons, some headed north to a friend’s
marvellous Morayshire garden where we planted them with hope.
"The other enchanted in a different way, with its leaves."
But as the end of each winter approached, we watched its
buds to see if they would swell to bring us the flowers we so much craved. But
instead of growing fat and bursting into flower, the buds burst into growth to
bring us more russet-felted leaves. The growth was the strongest of our plants,
so eventually the loppers were brought into play to curb its exuberance. But
the effect was short-lived, and growth continued as lustily as ever.
A couple of years ago, on a visit to Howick Hall garden,
which has rhododendrons with even bigger leaves, we talked to a gardener about
our problem. “Don’t cut it back, it’ll make it grow even more,” he said. “Dig
it up to give it a real fright to make it flower.”
"If you don't flower, we'll dig you up and chop your roots!"
So we came home and gave our felted rhododendron a stiff
talking to. “If you don’t flower, we’ll dig you up and chop your roots,” I told
it, dreading all the hard work that would be involved. Reminders were issued at
regular intervals and our rhododendron listened.
This spring, I noticed one of the buds was bulking-up. A
flower at last! Closer inspection of the plant revealed just half-a-dozen fattening
flower buds. What would it be like? Wonderful, or just a disappointment after
all these years of waiting and watching?
Then, just as the bud was about to open the weather forecast
was for frost – the first in weeks in this most frost-free of winters and
springs. I had little faith in the covering of fleece I put over the plant that
evening and, sure enough, Jack Frost simply ignored it and took that first bud
before it could bloom. But the others were less well advanced and a couple of
weeks later our 25-year wait was rewarded. The flowers were lovely. The buds
opened to reveal white petals edged with a delicate pink and speckled with
shades of red from light to deepest claret.
It was worth the wait. And now we’re looking forward to next
spring – hopefully frost-free.
I'd love to know how long other people have waited for plants to flower. Do get in touch to let me know.
I'd love to know how long other people have waited for plants to flower. Do get in touch to let me know.