Any digging at this time of year brings out the inevitable Robin seeking something to eat.

 

 There has been a good deal of flooding in Bedfordshire in recent days particularly along the River Great Ouse. I was reminded of this photograph from a couple of years ago. The trig point shown above is the highest point of the Pegsdon Hills and the view is looking out across Bedfordshire.

 I've written a number of entries about this range of chalk hills which are the easternmost tip of the Chilterns. Mainly this is a diary about botany but a bit of geography is noteworthy in this case. The hills form a section of the watershed between the London Basin and the Wash i.e. the rains drain one way or the other. Rain that fell hereabouts will be contributing to the deluge that's heading east across Bedfordshire.

 

 Christmas dinner for the birdies. From late autumn to early summer I put out bird feeders with sunflower seeds, peanuts and fat balls.

 

 The Nasturtiums that carpeted a large patch of the allotment around the bean canes have run their course. They flowered for months and seeded copiously (having grown from self-seeding last year). 

 Nasturtiums are not usually classed as a green manure like Phacelia or Buckwheat but they grow so well on the allotment that they do in effect serve that purpose. The mass of decaying tendrils will add a good amount of humus and nutrition to the soil.

 The humble Nasturtium has edible leaves and flowers, and I gather the seeds can be pickled in brine when still green. It's reckoned to be a good choice for companion planting, attracts bees and makes for a moisture retaining weed suppressing groundcover during the growing season. And a green manure/mulch at the end of the year. Nasturtiums give a lot for very little effort.

 

 We are passing through the Winter Solstice. The shortest day and the longest night heralds the rebirth of the sun. In the garden the first Snowdrops are starting to rise up from the damp earth and decaying leaves.

 

 Stinking Hellebore (Hellebore foetidus) flowers early. The ones in the garden have been flowering before Christmas in recent years. No doubt this is due to London's microclimate and warmer winters in general. Mine are from cultivated stock though it is also a UK native. 

 There are not many plants with green flowers. The flowers and stems of H. foetidus are of a particularly luminous green rising up from rather shaggy foliage of a darker hue.    

 

 Winter Sunshine. That's the name of this cultivar of Mahonia x media. It lives up to its name flowering deep into December. On sunny winter days bees come out of hibernation to forage on the flowers.

 

 Japanese Azalea is a garden centre staple. As such it rather falls outside this diary's interest in native and naturalised plants (though all garden plants have wild ancestry somewhere of course). My father got this one as a free gift with some bulbs he ordered so I potted it up for the patio in a larger terracotta pot.

 It put me mind of a point which I haven't really addressed before. Azalea japonica needs an ericaceous (i.e. acidic) soil. They share this trait with other members of the Rhododendron genus whose plant family is indeed Ericaceae. This diary has its roots in London clay and Hertfordshire chalk so I garden to those conditions and don't seek to change the PH balance of the soil selecting suitable plants accordingly.

 The secret to successful gardening is not really the mystical "green fingers". It's more a case of understanding what conditions a plant needs to flourish. That's also relevant to seeking out wildflowers and particularly relevant if you want to cultivate them. The flora of a limestone scarp is very different to the flora of a a peat bog. Some plants are generalists but most wild plants have a very specific ecological niche. The horticultural trade tends to favour generalists but the Ericaceae includes some popular plants.

 In the case of this little Azalea I found an old pot that had been filled with compost once upon a time. This was probably a standard compost of a fairly neutral PH. However it had been sat under a pine tree for years and was topped up with pine needles in various layers of decomposition which I mixed in then topped off with a mulch of more of the same. Pine needles are acidic so hopefully this will provide a suitable soil. 

 

 Echium pininana is naturalising in warmer parts of the UK, including London as mentioned in my last entry. I spotted these three in the village of Abbotsbury in Dorset; in fact they were popping up all over the village. The village also has palm trees and is home to the Abbotsbury Subtropical Gardens so the climate is conducive.  E. pininana is triennial, this trio are in the second year of growth. 

 

 The ones above are in St. James's Park in their third year of growth living up to their common name of Tree Echium and studded with thousands of blue flowers.  They are also known as Giant Echium and Giant Viper's Bugloss (being a relative of our native Echium vulgare which grows to only a foot or two tall).

  This is an Echium wildpretii which I grew in my front garden from a seedling given to me by one of the gardeners at the South London Botanical Institute. It flowered mightily this year.

  E. wildpretii is sometimes called the Tower of Jewels and is a relative of the Tree Echium on the Canary Islands. The two species hybridise in a form that is known as Pink Fountain, it's possible the one I grew was this variation. Perhaps Towers and Fountains will start naturalising as well.

 Triffids on the march! I have noted in several other entries that Echium pininana is naturalising in parts of London (for example in St. James's Park, see entry dated 14 June 2019). Strange to say some of the best specimens I've come across are in next door's garden. 

 It's a long way from the natural habitat of E. pininana in the Canary Islands but they self seed readily and grow vigorously despite the garden being rather shady. They are called Giant Echiums/Tree Echiums with good reason; in previous years they have grown as tall as the first floor windows.

 

 The Sycamore (Acer pseudoplatanus) at the back of the garden is hanging on to its last leaves. London is generally a week or two behind on the leaf fall and Sycamores are one of the last trees to shed their leaves in autumn. 

 

 Lichen is a composite organism created by the symbiotic relationship between algae or cyanobacteria and fungi. This gatepost I came across in Dorset was becoming encrusted with lichen as though some extraordinary metamorphosis was taking place. And in a way it was.