White Bulbs

I have a garden bed in whites, greens and a little grey. Oh, and a pale pink Thryptomene, giving a bit of body, and catmint with softest mauve flowers in spring. All I had planned here was pretty much cool colours to separate the pink rose garden, around my circle of grass (rather brown just now), from a bed with some yellow barrenworts (Epimedium) down the hill a little.

Being a hot, dry spot, it's been ideal for some spring bulbs and a few lovely white bearded iris - with great silvery sword-like foliage - from my sister.

Late spring brought on a swathe of sweet dwarf gladioli ('The Bride', below); finally I have enough to make a splash, which you need in a country garden. (I think just one of this or that, if small, looks spotty in a large garden. Trees are different, of course.) They're just where visitors - or us in the kitchen - can see the oh-so-pretty display, which is very welcome.

Flowering now, in summer, we have tall cape hyacinths (Galtonia candicans, top) lending bridal purity to this bed. Almost literally - these pretty bells were in my sister's January wedding posy, or so Mum used to say.

 

I've recently added the white form of the trailing convolvulus; it's rather hard grey leaves (colour-wise) adding another shade to the bed; I expect blooms in spring.

It feels like the garden is coming together, with this area showy now, then another area having interest later, and so on. The wandering wallabies have been excluded from the garden for what, 6 years now? And the growth is a lovely thing to behold - with the garden giving me joy.

(We still see the munching marsupials most days, nibbling just outside the gates. They can disappear silently, or eye you up and down, then resume their meal. The other day I reached the garden gate, then noticed, a metre away, a mumma wallaby with tiny joey. I snatched my hand off the gate and did an about turn, smartly. Glancing back, she seemed pretty nonchalant...and my shadehouse did not get a water that day. Not a problem!)

Gardens, those areas of nature and contrivance, can give so much pleasure.

And joy.

Jill Weatherhead is horticulturist, writer, garden designer and principal at Jill Weatherhead Garden Design who lives in the Dandenong Ranges east of Melbourne, and works throughout Victoria. (www.jillweatherheaddesign.com.au)