Apricot, Peach, Clementine
Honey, Salmon, Butter, Mango, Lemon, Tangerine, Coral, Mustard, Ginger
While I had never deliberately sat down to plan my garden before a few weeks ago, I found myself drawn to purples and purple-pink flowers (rosa ‘Chatsworth’, ‘Scepter'd Isle’, ‘Blush Noisette’, dwarf purple buddleia, lavender ‘Provence’, sidalcea ‘Little Princess’, hydrangea ‘Flair & Flavours Sweet Cupcake’, you get the idea) and thus ended up with those colours predominating.
That meant passing over any plant whose flowers were described as being coloured ‘apricot’, ‘peach’ or ‘honey’.
[ Verbascum in the incredible, inspiring Octavia Hill Garden by Ann-Marie Powell at RHS Chelsea 2024, photograph by me ]
When David died in September I lost my mind a little. I didn’t know what to do with myself. After a while it was time for the autumn garden tidy up and once I started cutting back and digging up I couldn’t stop. Catharsis, in its ancient, original sense of ‘purging’ or ‘cleansing’. Out everything came, almost all of it carefully potted up and parked by the back door. Some of it even labelled. (If you have been following my Notes about my neighbour’s garden, I am donating these to her. So hopefully I can still visit.)
I was left with bare soil. Appropriately desolate.
But inadvertently I had created an opportunity. So I started noodling around ideas. RHS Chelsea, for all its increasing controversy and stunning eco-hypocrisy, is packed with inspiration. I fell head over heels in love with all the Verbascums - ‘Southern Charm’ and ‘Clementine’ especially - in the 2024 show gardens, so those were a no-brainer.
[ L to R: Verbascum ‘Southern Charm’ and ‘Clementine’ ]
Jo Thompson’s rose advent calendar added fuel. She introduced me to rosa ‘Desprez à Fleurs Jaunes’ and ‘Meg’. Those will sit well with my already established ‘Blush Noisette’ (a bit too pinky for this scheme but probably my favourite thing in the garden), ‘Open Arms’, and ‘Sweet Siluetta’ (which I bought straight off the Peter Beales stand at Chelsea last year).
[ L to R: Rosa ‘Desprez à Fleurs Jaunes’, ‘Meg’, ‘Blush Noisette’, ‘Open Arms’, ‘Sweet Siluetta’ ]
I read a pre-eminent interior designer interviewed in House & Gardens years ago (though like heck if I can remember who or find the article now) say that every room should have an element of red. I think the same is true of a garden. My rosa ‘Rambling Rosie’ has been moved to drip rubies on the front of the house, stepping in to provide the jolt of red is an old rose, Rosa ‘de Rêscht’. It might be a jarring disaster but is very, very beautiful.
I’ve added Rosa ‘Mokarosa’ because I’ve long been curious about it. I wonder if it might be a good foil to all this sweet honey. A beige/brown rose? Intriguing. And it has a beautiful, frilly form. I wasn’t going to admit to buying and burying Rosa ‘Rachel’ but I have vowed to be an honest writer. Like me, she could probably be described as being '“too much”. But let’s see.
[ L to R: Rosa ‘de Rêscht’, ‘Mokarosa’, ‘Rachel’ ]
How many roses is too many in a small garden? Trick question, no amount is ever enough. I already told you about my hunt for rosa ‘Jacqueline du Pre’, so she will calm things down in the back left corner, and I am trying to talk myself out of buying ‘The Lark Ascending’. I can’t find it for sale for less than £23 (and add to that the shipping…) but it is one of Jo Thompson’s top three roses. So perhaps it is worthy of the investment (so far I haven’t spent more than £10-£15 for a bare root rose so I am somewhat reticent).
[ L to R: Rosa ‘Jacqueline du Pre’, ‘The Lark Ascending’ ]
More height is inevitably needed and here another RHS Chelsea crush (this time from the 2023 show, my first) reemerged in the form of Digitalis ‘Dalmatian Peach’. Perfect for my shady bed.
Another absolute favourite flower of mine is Martagon Lily, and ‘Fairy Morning’ was a must, but then also - leaning in to the opportunity to play with the once-dreaded orange - ’Tiger Babies’. I just adore Martagon Lilies, I always think they should be in ‘Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose’ by John Singer Sargent, but they aren’t.
[ L to R: Digitalis ‘Dalmatian Peach’, Martagon Lily ‘Fairy Morning’ and ‘Tiger Babies’ ]
And what would any English garden be without irises? I doubt I’ll have much luck with the Iris germanica 'Supreme Sultan' but hopefully I’ll at least get some flowers from Iris sibirica ‘Ginger Twist’ and ‘Paprikash’.
[ L to R: Iris Germanica ‘Supreme Sultan’, Iris sibirica ‘Ginger Twist, ‘Paprikash’ ]
I had my eye on Geum ‘Apricot Pearl’ but then decided again it might be a bit too well-mannered so instead ordered the common-as-muck ‘Totally Tangerine’. Good to have a bit of zing in the borders, I think, and this will bring it.
More was needed for the shady border so I’ve added Astrantia ‘ Buckland’. After all, not everything should be exciting.
A little bit of iffy taste was needed to offset all this elegance, so I chose Erysimum ‘Spring Breeze Sunset’. Vivid, garish colours, quite terrible and wonderful. They’re already starting to flower and look just utterly ridiculous in bleak mid-January.
[ L to R: Geum ‘Totally Tangerine’, Astrantia ‘Buckland’, Erysimum ‘Spring Breeze Sunset’ ]
I have much more to tell you about annuals I’m hoping to grow from seed (Lathyrus odoratus 'Watermelon'! Tropaeolum ‘Tip Top Alaska Salmon’! Eschschoizia californica ‘Thai Silk Apricot Chiffon’! And of course Phlox ‘Cherry Caramel’) but I’ll leave that for another post lest I overwhelm you with the beauty of my plans.
I keep seeing it suggested that January is not a month for gardening but goodness me I’ve been busy. Apart from the Digitalis everything has arrived. I have never in my life been this organised. Hopefully front-loading the effort will mean little is needed over the next few months, just some tweaking, and the long, impatient vigil.
“ Lest I overwhelm you with the beauty of my plans.” Not at all.
Hey there horticulturalish,
I dig your writing but, oh man, have I got beef here re the colours.
These, for me, are the very worst flower colours in the whole wide world. I just can’t be doing with their dull, uninspired, uninspiring murk. I replied to something @Anne Wareham had written on the same, saying that I’m really fine with orange (in fact I am really into it) but salmon, apricot nude, coral and peach make my teeth itch and if they weren’t so insipid and lacking in any impact or drama or vibrancy would make me want to lie down in a darkened room like when I have a migraine.
And don’t get me going on when they are combined in one flower (it seems I’m quite able to get myself going all on my own). My very worst nightmare in the photographs you attach to plague me is, probably - as I’m hard-pushed to find a very worst - is Erysimum Spring Breeze Sunset. Although, even in such a very wide field, I could go with Rosa Lark Ascending.
I had this debate with a gardening friend who proposed that I didn’t like these shades because they are, I quote her: “they’re so feminine. And you’re ….really not”. I don’t think it is that they’re feminine (I like lots of feminine things), I think it’s just that they are horrid.
I trust that this perspective on apricot, peach, clementine will not presage a parting of the ways.