Welcome to the jungle
Brighton and Hove Council's gardeners have this summer planted up some of the busiest areas in the city with tropical flowerbeds designed to suggest an 'urban jungle'. On the Old Steine, near the Royal Pavilion, you'll find banana trees (musa trees), kangaroo apples (a shrub usually found, no surprise, in Australia) and ornamental grasses. I often drive along here but hadn't noticed any of this - I just happened to pick up a copy of our local paper the Argus at the gym and saw the news. The headline was 'Hot weather encouraging exotic tree growth in Brighton and Hove'. There seem to be the beginnings of an enthusiasm for cultivating banana trees here (see Michele Hanson's account of the thrills of growing them, 'Bananas in north London - whatever next?', 5 August '10).
Making a garden is often about transforming your environment; outside spaces can offer more scope for imaginative exploration and experimentation than interiors. They're more changeable and, if you garden in pots, moveable.
Brighton and Hove Council's gardeners have this summer planted up some of the busiest areas in the city with tropical flowerbeds designed to suggest an 'urban jungle'. On the Old Steine, near the Royal Pavilion, you'll find banana trees (musa trees), kangaroo apples (a shrub usually found, no surprise, in Australia) and ornamental grasses. I often drive along here but hadn't noticed any of this - I just happened to pick up a copy of our local paper the Argus at the gym and saw the news. The headline was 'Hot weather encouraging exotic tree growth in Brighton and Hove'. There seem to be the beginnings of an enthusiasm for cultivating banana trees here (see Michele Hanson's account of the thrills of growing them, 'Bananas in north London - whatever next?', 5 August '10).
On foot, I found that the new flowerbeds were grouped around a Regency fountain in what had become a traffic island - if you find them hard to spot, just look, as I did, for flag-like banana leaves billowing and flapping in the bracing seafront breezes and squalls. The new planting made me and others take a closer look at the candelabra fountain with its fe
rocious-looking dolphins cleverly supporting the middle basin with their tails. The fountain seems quite baroque in style; intriguingly, it seems that it replaced a stone circle and some of the stones were incorporated into the base ('Steine' means stone, and the area was once covered with stones used by fishermen to dry their nets).
What struck me most, however, were the six people happily squeezed on to a bench (count them) backed by the new planting, looking at the fountain, which was also popular with seagulls (there's one perched on the look-out at the the top, like a Brighton emblematic beast). The group of friends seemed like they'd been there for a while - and they were still there when I left - even though it was a stormy day. On another bench, backed by planting that mixes musa trees and kangaroo apples with dahlias, nasturtiums and millet, two friends were engrossed in conversation (see below: the man walking away, looking very happy, had just snapped the photogenic seagull on the path).
Successful gardens attract people and wildlife, and I think you can tell how they rank by how happy people and other creatures are there; with imaginative planting, this traffic island has been transformed into an elegant and, thanks to the tropical touches, exotic fountain parterre.
It's a month since the plants were put in and so now's the perfect time to see them - the gardeners said it would take that long for them to bed in properly. See them while you can, though: at the end of the summer, the banana plants and grasses will go back to the council nursery at Stanmer Park for the winter, to reappear next year.
Quickly, just to mention the council gardeners' soft spot for agapanthus this summer: see their eye-catching planting of blue flowers just along St James's Street in the New Steine (along the railings, opposite, and in a block in the middle of the garden square, see below, facing a bank of rhododendrons)
and the profusion of blue and white flowers on the Drive, in Hove, near Cafe Nero (see below right). I took both pictures the same afternoon - Hove first, then on to Brighton where the skies darkened, though that didn't worry the people round the dolphin fountain. Shortly after I took the New Steine pics, there was a downpour, with raindrops the size of 10 pence pieces, followed by thunder and lightning; it brightened up again soon afterwards. 
All this brought back to me how so many times in his Herbal, John Gerard, unofficial gardener to Elizabeth I, conveys the excitement of growing plants from distant lands - rising to the challenge yet again and pointing out that although the wonderful plants documented are "strangers to England, notwithstanding I have them in my garden".
(I could stop here, I realise, in the interests of brevity, as promised in my last posting, but after talking with a few readers of the blog, I'm going to add a few more connections, for those who like them - all those in favour of shorter bulletins, stop reading now . . .)
Round-the-world planting
A neighbour recently gave us a tour of his garden where he grows the increasingly popular agapanthus and other less-often-seen plants, such as snow-white gladioli, alstroemeria (Peruvian lilies), and, yes, banana trees. A great
traveller, he is from Northern Thailand and has transformed a suburban lawn in Hove into a space where almost every inch is covered with unusual blooms, as well as interesting varieties of well-known plants. The border in the photo to the left surrounds a pond with an ornamental bridge and cascade. The swan statue just visible in the depth of flowers reminds me of Pope's garden at Twickenham: by the river bank there were two sculptures of swans, wings outstretched as if about to take off. When Swift came to stay with Pope for a couple of months in the wake of the furore after his anonymous publication of 'Gulliver's Travels', he paid tribute to him and his magical garden: "You have taught me how to dream".
Recently, our neighbour has changed his vegetable garden into an area for growing cut flowers such as helianthus and alstroemeria (see right); he also has, amongst other things, about a dozen sunflowers growing in pots and gave me two (different varieties - one with the usual dark centre and almond-shaped petals and the other like a golden pompom), now basking on my balcony.
There's a perimeter path around the garden that leads at the top right to an apple tree under which there is a flourishing blueberry bush, day lilies and
agapanthus in pots (left).
Last connection for this routine: On my latest visit to the garden, my neighbour showed me an unusual type of canna - the leaves are light stripes of green rather than orange/wine-dark red (usual variety below).
By coincidence - or gardengoing synchronicity - on my way to see this summer's Serpentine Pavilion in Hyde Park, I got off one stop early and followed a beautiful avenue with magnificent
planting (left), at the end of which was a glorious border with, you guessed, agapanthus (see below, at the back).
If you look closely, below the large-leafed plant, nestled in the earth in front of the red band of flowers, you can see a sunbathing robin - undeterred and unnoticed by the many agapanthus paparazzi, the robin soaked up a
few rays before taking off when a lady leant a bit too far over the railings.
Leaving the avenue, the Albert Memorial was surrounded by 'hot' border planting, with gorgeous dark red dahlias and brilliant flowering canna, that reminded me of similar borders at Hatfield and the Walled Garden at Cowdray.
Next routine: Jean Nouvel's Serpentine pavilion and garden buildings ancient and modern
rocious-looking dolphins cleverly supporting the middle basin with their tails. The fountain seems quite baroque in style; intriguingly, it seems that it replaced a stone circle and some of the stones were incorporated into the base ('Steine' means stone, and the area was once covered with stones used by fishermen to dry their nets).What struck me most, however, were the six people happily squeezed on to a bench (count them) backed by the new planting, looking at the fountain, which was also popular with seagulls (there's one perched on the look-out at the the top, like a Brighton emblematic beast). The group of friends seemed like they'd been there for a while - and they were still there when I left - even though it was a stormy day. On another bench, backed by planting that mixes musa trees and kangaroo apples with dahlias, nasturtiums and millet, two friends were engrossed in conversation (see below: the man walking away, looking very happy, had just snapped the photogenic seagull on the path).
Successful gardens attract people and wildlife, and I think you can tell how they rank by how happy people and other creatures are there; with imaginative planting, this traffic island has been transformed into an elegant and, thanks to the tropical touches, exotic fountain parterre.
It's a month since the plants were put in and so now's the perfect time to see them - the gardeners said it would take that long for them to bed in properly. See them while you can, though: at the end of the summer, the banana plants and grasses will go back to the council nursery at Stanmer Park for the winter, to reappear next year.
Quickly, just to mention the council gardeners' soft spot for agapanthus this summer: see their eye-catching planting of blue flowers just along St James's Street in the New Steine (along the railings, opposite, and in a block in the middle of the garden square, see below, facing a bank of rhododendrons)
and the profusion of blue and white flowers on the Drive, in Hove, near Cafe Nero (see below right). I took both pictures the same afternoon - Hove first, then on to Brighton where the skies darkened, though that didn't worry the people round the dolphin fountain. Shortly after I took the New Steine pics, there was a downpour, with raindrops the size of 10 pence pieces, followed by thunder and lightning; it brightened up again soon afterwards. 
All this brought back to me how so many times in his Herbal, John Gerard, unofficial gardener to Elizabeth I, conveys the excitement of growing plants from distant lands - rising to the challenge yet again and pointing out that although the wonderful plants documented are "strangers to England, notwithstanding I have them in my garden".
(I could stop here, I realise, in the interests of brevity, as promised in my last posting, but after talking with a few readers of the blog, I'm going to add a few more connections, for those who like them - all those in favour of shorter bulletins, stop reading now . . .)
Round-the-world planting
A neighbour recently gave us a tour of his garden where he grows the increasingly popular agapanthus and other less-often-seen plants, such as snow-white gladioli, alstroemeria (Peruvian lilies), and, yes, banana trees. A great
traveller, he is from Northern Thailand and has transformed a suburban lawn in Hove into a space where almost every inch is covered with unusual blooms, as well as interesting varieties of well-known plants. The border in the photo to the left surrounds a pond with an ornamental bridge and cascade. The swan statue just visible in the depth of flowers reminds me of Pope's garden at Twickenham: by the river bank there were two sculptures of swans, wings outstretched as if about to take off. When Swift came to stay with Pope for a couple of months in the wake of the furore after his anonymous publication of 'Gulliver's Travels', he paid tribute to him and his magical garden: "You have taught me how to dream".Recently, our neighbour has changed his vegetable garden into an area for growing cut flowers such as helianthus and alstroemeria (see right); he also has, amongst other things, about a dozen sunflowers growing in pots and gave me two (different varieties - one with the usual dark centre and almond-shaped petals and the other like a golden pompom), now basking on my balcony.
There's a perimeter path around the garden that leads at the top right to an apple tree under which there is a flourishing blueberry bush, day lilies and
agapanthus in pots (left).Last connection for this routine: On my latest visit to the garden, my neighbour showed me an unusual type of canna - the leaves are light stripes of green rather than orange/wine-dark red (usual variety below).
By coincidence - or gardengoing synchronicity - on my way to see this summer's Serpentine Pavilion in Hyde Park, I got off one stop early and followed a beautiful avenue with magnificent
planting (left), at the end of which was a glorious border with, you guessed, agapanthus (see below, at the back).If you look closely, below the large-leafed plant, nestled in the earth in front of the red band of flowers, you can see a sunbathing robin - undeterred and unnoticed by the many agapanthus paparazzi, the robin soaked up a
few rays before taking off when a lady leant a bit too far over the railings.Leaving the avenue, the Albert Memorial was surrounded by 'hot' border planting, with gorgeous dark red dahlias and brilliant flowering canna, that reminded me of similar borders at Hatfield and the Walled Garden at Cowdray.
Next routine: Jean Nouvel's Serpentine pavilion and garden buildings ancient and modern
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