Amazing how this rambling rose has become so vigorous in such a small pot. And this photo was taken after I gave it a hard prune to reduce its size by about 50%.   

 David Austin has this to say about choosing a pot for a climbing or rambling rose: 

 "It must be large enough to accommodate an extensive root system, support a tall framework, and retain moisture without becoming waterlogged. Choose a container that measures at least 60cm (2ft) wide and deep, holding a minimum of 100 litres of compost".

 Good advice which doesn't seem to apply to this particular rose!

 In a way the perfect day to walk out into the blue. A cool, fresh breeze yet I could feel the warmth of winter sun on my face. I lingered awhile on the slopes of Knocking Hoe communing with eternity.

 

 Uncommon wildflowers, part one. In fact I'm not really a seeker of rare species. I'm very happy to see drifts of Rosebay Willowherb along railway embankments or woods full of Bluebells or a lawn infested with Self-Heal.

 Nonetheless it is a thrill to come across a rarity. Case in point Ivy Broomrape (Orobanche hederae) grows in great profusion in the grounds of Benslow Music School in Hitchin. That is surprising because Brian Sawford describes it as "one of Hertfordshire's rarest wildflowers" in his great book 'Wildflower Habitats of Hertfordshire' published in 1990.  

 He noted that it was "unexpectedly discovered in a churchyard in northern Hertfordshire" in 1984. Furthermore he states that "These are the only colonies of this normally maritime species ever known from the county, and the only location in the whole of the Eastern part of Britain, north of the River Thames."  

 Quite when or how O. hederae arrived at Benslow is a mystery. It's flourishing here to the extent that it's really quite common in this particular locale.

 Happy to report that giant Echiums are starting to colonise my street in south London. These are E. wildpretii in my neighbour's front garden. They are the progeny of one I grew in my front garden a number of years ago. 

 Hailing from the Canary Islands they are triennial i.e. a seedling/rosette appears in the first year, then puts on about a metre of growth in the second year, then raises the towering spike of flowers in the third year. After flowering the whole plant dies having dropped copious amounts of seed.

 The blue flowered E. pininana is well established in the back gardens and wildpretii will hopefully do the same at the front. 

 

 Clear blue sky. Cold clean air. Bright red berries.

 

 An early Christmas card. Here is Misletoe (Viscum album) on next door's apple tree. 

 Just thinking back on notable wildflower sightings in 2025; one in particular springs to mind. I had always thought that Wood Anemones were not present anywhere in the countryside around Hitchin.

 However I walked a section of the Chiltern Way adjoining Hitch Wood in late-ish April and came upon a pocket of open woodland where they were growing in great profusion among Bluebells.

  Wood Anemones are sometimes found in ancient Bluebell woods but not always. Typically Anemone nemorosa flowers before Hycinthoides non-scripta but Bluebell season was early this year and they overlapped. A delightful discovery.

 

 The first entry on this blog was way back in January 2017. I noted that the first plant to flower in my garden was a Stinking Hellebore (Helleborus foetidus). Indeed the species is well known as winter flowering from January onwards. 

 In recent years I've seen them coming into flower as early as mid-November in some places and that is true again this year. It's not unusual for the growth cycles of plants to vary by a few weeks according to the vagaries of the weather. However the biological clock of H. foetidus seems to have undergone a distinct shift; is this suggestive of a more fundamental change in climate?

 Having said that we're in the middle of a cold spell here in southern England with sub-zero nights and a penetrating damp chill in the air. That shouldn't be unusual but warmer winters have become the norm since I was a lad. The Hellebores at the music school (above) were fringed with frost which won't trouble them. 

 Walking in search of wildflowers will have to wait till spring now. Nonetheless some of my favourite locales near Hitchin are equally scenic for winter walks. Like the Pegsdon Hills.

Knocking Hoe.

 And the Barton Hills.  

 

 The autumnal countryside is not entirely bereft of wildflowers. Yarrow (Achillea millefolium) flowers from July into November. Typically a white flower, sometimes deep pink and shades in between.

 

 As the leaves fall structure is revealed, as with this Chinese Virginia Creeper (P. henryana).

 

 Lifting the Dahlias. Hailing from Mexico and Guatemala originally they don't like Britain's cold and damp winters. Some gardeners in southern England do leave them in the ground covered with a thick mulch. Traditionally they are lifted and stored indoors over winter. 

 In both cases the stems are cut to a few inches above the tubers. If lifted the earth should be removed as much as possible. Some gardeners wash the earth off, some don't. Some leave them upside down for a few days to drain excess water from the stems, some don't. Some store them in dry compost over the winter months, some wrap them in newspaper, some simply leave them in boxes or crates (as here).

 The main consideration is to store them indoors in a space with which is dry, not heated but where they will not freeze.  If they get too dry they shrivel, too damp they rot, too cold they die. As long as they make it through to spring they can be replanted for next year's display.

 

 Last mow of the year at the music school. Traditionally early to mid-November is the period for the final cut. After that growth is minimal until spring.    

 The old adage is that if your boots get wet walking across the grass then it's too wet to cut. Today was a misty morning i.e. damp. Cloudy sun and a light breeze dried out the lawn sufficiently by lunchtime to go for it. My boots were moistened by the end but not saturated.

 There are several good reasons for not cutting grass when it's wet. The blades rip rather than cut which also tugs at the roots. The blades get blunted quicker by wet grass. If the going is too soft the weight of the mower may leave unsightly indentations. Anyway a nice trim was achieved after the lawnmower posed for this photo opportunity. 

 Mowing the lawn was a favourite activity when I was a kid. As well as our own garden I would trundle the lawnmower across town to cut the grass for my gran. The child is father to the man? 

 

 I have been travelling back and forth between London and Hitchin a good deal in recent years. The train journey through the Hertfordshire countryside is (literally) a window on the seasons as they change.  

 Hitchin station is located in a deep cutting through chalk; amazing to think it was excavated with pick and shovel. The trees that colonise the banks above have morphed through their autumnal hues. Bare branches are stark against the skyline as the last leaves fall. 

The 'fall' has been taking it's time this year, long and colourful.

 

 The Mahonia x media cultivars have M. japonica and M. lomariifolia as their antecedents and possibly others such as M. bealei. This mixed gene pool has nonetheless hybridised various garden plants that look very similar e.g. 'Winter Sunshine' and 'Charity'.

 For the gardener they have the prized quality of coming into flower in late autumn/early winter when other flowers have faded. On warmer days they attract bees from their slumbers.

 NB the genus Mahonia is now considered to be part of the Berberis genus. For example M. x media is now B. x hortensis. 

 

Some pollinators from the days of summer... Brimstone on Bramble.

European Hornet on Sea Holly.

Bumblebee on Teasel.

Hoverfly on Wild Chicory.

 Thinking back to Midsummer's Day. An evening walk along a mile or two of the Icknield Way, that ancient track across the chalk of England. Considered to be part of a longer 'ridgeway' connecting Lyme Regis and Hunstanton. Probably one should speak of ridgeways plural rather than one definitive route. It passes near my home town of Hitchin where the Pegsdon Hills and Knocking Hoe merge with the flatter expanse of East Anglia. Hereabouts the Icknield Way is a track.

 A month or so later I walked a rather different stretch that cuts through Letchworth. Here it is a road (which passes by my secondary school as it happens). The Way is not simply an historic footpath. In places it still functions as a highway in general use. Heading East from Letchworth it is the route of the A505 between Baldock and Royston. The Romans straightened this section; they were quite happy to co-opt the tracks of the Ancient Britons and we continue to do so.

 We are deep enough into the year to reflect on the year that has passed. We had a proper cold winter after Christmas. Night after night of sub-zero temperatures and days on end barely above freezing. Which would have been normal a few decades ago but we have grown accustomed to warmer winters.

 The dry spring that followed became a fully fledged drought during the summer months. Cold in winter, hot in summer is fine by me but it was pretty parched out there. There was a decent drop of rain in early September but we had quite a dry autumn as well.

 The past few days there has been a tangible sense of transition from late autumn into early winter so the wheel turns...  

 

 Here is a tough/delicate beauty: Autumn Crocus (Crocus speciosus). The advice from Shipton Bulbs is to grow in grass that will not be mown. I planted a handful in just such a spot; I will plant some more next year seeing how lovely they are at a time when not much else is in flower.

 Said to have bluish flowers but these are on the violet spectrum to my eye. Strongly resembles the paler forms of Crocus tommasinianus which flowers in very early spring. They are near neighbours in their natural habitat which might explain their similarity?

C. speciosus hails from Crimea/Iran/Turkey and C. tommasinianus is native to Hungary/Bulgaria. 

Postscript 26/10/25 Looking again at these Crocuses on a dull, cloudy day they do indeed have a pronounced blue tint. I notice this with some other 'blue' flowers; in strong sunlight they are of a violet hue. Classic example: Bluebells can appear deep blue or violet depending on the play of light.

 Some more propagation by division. Pretty basic- I stuck a fork into a patch of Trachystemon orientalis and levered out a section of rhizome to replant elsewhere.

 Sometimes called Oriental Borage or Early Flowering Borage, it's tough as old boots. The flowers resemble those of the annual Borage though it's a different species albeit of the Boraginaceae. Large coarse leaves last through summer. 

 Use as ground cover in dry shade. Invasive or vigorous depending how you look at it; few other plants will flourish in deep, dry shade so it has its uses.

 

 I cut back an unruly Hop (Humulus lupulus) in a neighbour's garden. Hops are vigorous climbers and scramblers in their natural habitats of woodland, hedgerow and scrubby open ground. Their climbing habit is used to good effect in row after row of hop poles in the hop fields of England.

 H. lupulus is dioecious i.e. bears 'male' and 'female' flowers on different plants. The female catkins are the ones used for brewing. Decorative in a dangly sort of way; I saved a stem to hang from the mantlepiece.

 

 Bistorta affinis is a mat forming perennial from the Himalayas, very robust and spreads vigorously. I'm sure it will tolerate some rudimentary propagation by division.

 I got a serrated knife then cut off sections of mat where it is spreading from a border onto paving stones. I placed them in another bed, pressed them into loose soil and watered them in.

 Bistorta affinis was previously known as Persicaria affinis and before that Polygonum affine; part of the Knotweed family of plants by any name.

 

 "Right plant, right place" is a wise gardening adage. Japanese Anemones can be a good choice for a dry, semi-shady spot. However they can be a bit too right and spread considerably by rooty rhizomes. In this case a well established stand was spreading from a border into an adjoining shingle path.

 I dug up them out of the shingle to replant in another border with similar conditions. Actually this propagation by division is recommended as a spring thing but needs must. They may or may not flourish; hopefully they will be the right plant for that place. 

 

 A simple way to gather seed. I leave Eyrngium to self-seed after flowering but I eventually get round to cutting down the dried out stems. I snip off the seed heads and leave them in a bucket for a few weeks. A decent amount of seed collects at the bottom.

 

 Autumn wears a coat of many colours. The fiery hues of Virginia Creeper topped by a white froth of late flowering Russian Vine. Evergreen Holly and Ivy in the background. Bright orange berries on the Holly.

Fascinating fungus.

 

 Autumn leaves. A mighty wind gave them a good shake down on Saturday but many trees are still green or only just starting to turn. I thought the spring/summer drought would result in a premature fall but the rain we had in early September revived wilting boughs. Another dry spell has followed so hard to predict how it goes from here. 

 The delivery from Shipton Bulbs also included 5 Solomon's Seal (Polygonatum multiflorum) in the form of knobbly rooty rhizomes with a claw-like tip.

 Delivery from Shipton Bulbs last week: 100 Ramsons aka Wild Garlic (Allium ursinum), 100 spring flowering Crocus (C. tommasinianus), 50 autumn flowering Crocus (C. siebeiri), 5 Stinking Iris (Iris foetidissima) and 5 Dame's Violet (Hesperis matronalis). September has flown by. I've been planning on planting a good many bulbs but I've barely got started!

Autumn, raking sun and long shadows.

 

Late afternoon, late September.

 The Red Admiral can be spotted well into autumn on warm, sunny days. I notice they seem to favour the leaves of Fig trees when available as a platform to bask on.

 

 The well-tempered compost heap. Some greens, some browns, some vegetable peelings and a pitchfork to turn it over.

 

As autumn sets in the bees are seeking out the last flowers of summer.

 Now the rains have arrived some perennials that were wilting are having a late flush of flowers like these Veronica spicata. A boon for the bees still on the wing.