The lunar landscape

This is scary.   I’m having to re-think entirely my normal method of planting.   Here’s the background to my new look garden.

Clara and Olivier Filippi have a plant nursery in the far south of France down on the coast near Montpellier. They are the pre-eminent experimenters in dry garden plants.   Not only do they have a huge garden and trial beds, but they collect and study plants in the wild.   And their ideas are interesting.   Mediterranean plants generally experience summer droughts, and winter wet periods and must thrive in extremes of temperature.

They have come up with a wonderful book called ‘Pour un jardin sans arrosage’ which spells out their philosophy.   And the gist of it is.   Leave plants alone.   Don’t spoil them. Water sparingly and then not at all.

So, instead of digging a hole, adding compost and maybe bone meal and then firming the plant in and watering.   I am turning my shade garden into a lunar landscape.   Big shallow holes, plant in, nothing else. And then 17 litres (a big bucket) of water to settle. I have to keep the huge basin weed free in the first year, water only once a fortnight, and then with one large bucket of water, ignore them if they become stressed.   And then in the second year never water at all.

It’s fascinating stuff, but challenging.   The first holes I dug were more like graves. Way too deep and the poor choisya looked buried. I had to start again and this time make it shallower and wider. It looks like a giant bunyip has gone digging up the soil.

Just to mark where I’ve planted the eighteen plants, I’ve added a bucket of gravel to the bottom of the holes. I’m not sure if that’s allowed under Filippi rules, but I won’t be able to see the plants for the weeds in a few months time if I don’t. And it might stop people taking shortcuts to the studio or up the path and stepping on a precious plant.

Once I’ve fueled up and met the plumber, I’ll tackle one of the three next flower beds.