By John Warrington
I am in England at present but I hope it’s only for the shortest while. I look out of my study window upon a world of snow as far as I can see, as well as the Pennine Chain, a range of hills marching northwards for miles to Scotland. It is a popular walk, but very lonely and at times quite dangerous although very beautiful. Here on the outskirts of Manchester, the trees and shrubs are showing signs of spring, with bulbs like crocus, daffodils and tulips beginning to brighten up the gardens. A severe winter was forecast, but in fact it has been very mild except that for the last few days severe snow and frost have made gardening impossible. The place in which I am staying maintains what my hosts consider to be a tropical temperature in honour of my presence. However, 25ºC is several degrees cooler than Georgetown’s lowest night temperature, and I am wrapped in thick pullovers. The pruning of fruit trees and flowering shrubs will be done just before the buds begin to swell and the leaves burst.
My journal is now in use, and has recorded the hottest temperature so far this year during February, which is not saying much in Georgetown.
A few months ago, my New Year resolution was to get my gardener to use secateurs instead of a cutlass to prune. Also, to get my Guyanese friends to call their spade a shovel, rather than their shovel a spade. Then they’ll join the rest of the world and the 21st century in calling a spade a spade.
Gardening is a bit like weather forecasting, based more on probability than certainty. Its successes and failures are a consequence of the interpretive skills of its practitioners. That is, you and I. A few days ago, I was thanking my lucky stars for a profession, which then became a hobby. And for a hobby which I know helps to give me continued health. A much valued reader sent me a letter of appreciation a week or so ago, and how welcome it was. I have known her and her admirable late husband for many years, but from a distance, and up to now had no idea that they were interested in gardening. What a very pleasant surprise, which helps to make my weekly efforts so much more worthwhile.
We have not really had a dry season this year so far. Even when there is one, and I welcome the rain at the end of it, I still start to complain because it means that our glorious bougainvillea display will go over very quickly. The last thing it needs is rain and fertilizer. The one important thing to remember during dry weather is to keep the grass as short as possible in order to reduce water loss. The longer you allow it to grow, the more water it loses. A few months or so ago I moved a mature shrub of the Star Jasmine (Tabernaemontana coronaria) – ’twas a large plant growing in the wrong place, and it was quite the wrong time to do it as the water table had disappeared out of sight. It is said that fortune favours the brave, so I cut it back to its hardwood framework, and with assistance moved it to a good spot, which will allow its proper development.
I pruned its larger roots making sloping cuts with a large knife, and watered it frequently to encourage the formation of new roots. I also put down a heavy surface mulch. The sun blazed down and I thought I had lost it, but I was lucky. Slowly new shoots began to appear and I am now certain it will survive and grow into a fine specimen.
In warm weather, it is always a good idea to damp down the staging and the floor in the shade shelter, as well as to syringe the plants a couple of times a day. This helps to raise the humidity level, which is a good thing for ferns and most foliage plants, although don’t do it in dull weather because this just invites fungus attacks. Meanwhile, take the greatest care and may your God go with you.
