Scent in the garden

Even I’m getting tired of the Gertie Jekylls. The relentless pink.

I’m starting to think it is time to go for some more variety in my rose collection. Well that won’t be hard, I only have seven planters in the courtyard and each one has a Jekyll.

I wanted to extend the flowering season by having some on the north side of the courtyard which would hopefully open later than those on the south.

They all have burst out at the same time. There are lilies which will follow on from the roses. But it’s time to think hard about some crimsons and dark moody roses that I can sneak up the walnut path, or in some shadier areas around the potting shed.

I did find one peony that has come out on the terrace bank. And glory be, it’s pale and wan and smells divine.

But my best scent right now is in the courtyard. And is just far enough away from the roses not to clash.

It has taken a few years to get these climbers up to the height where you walk past and get the wafty delight of their smell.

Meet my honeysuckle.

It climbs up two poles of the pergola, and scrambles in among the stipas near a third pole.  It’s too young to scramble just yet, so I’m letting it grow anywhere. And hopefully next year it will be mature enough to go up.

That’s assuming the poles of the pergola are still there.

The poor thing leans and looks a touch precarious. I’ll probably find the grape vines are the only thing that is holding up the structure.  So for now I will wander underneath the pergola without any fear of it falling; mainly because I don’t want to miss my honeysuckle dose.