Regular readers of this blog, and maybe some of our visitors to the garden, will know that we have been blighted. Or our box has. For the past 15 years or so we’ve been struggling with box blight. (So please don’t offer us suggestions about how to cope with it. We tried. Everything.) All the box cuttings which I nurtured 30 odd years ago have a big question mark over them and some have had a post to themselves already. And then the Grasses Parterre had become the biggest nightmare.
I do believe that it’s hard for two people to have the same feeling at the same time, so what has mostly gone on in this house has been Charles being thoroughly upset and angry about the blight, and me desperately trying comfort him and to think what we could do to deal with it. We’ve sprayed – or rather Jeff and Charles have sprayed, and as I pointed out many times, that has kept it manageable. But never conquered. The upsetness, the obsession with it and the frequently shorn hedges were becoming impossible to live with, particularly in the Grasses Parterre, which seemed to be getting worse and worse. And now there’s the threat of a noxious caterpillar. Something more drastic had to be done. But what?
I thought and thought about it. We couldn’t afford to replace all the hedges in the Parterre with anything we’d see grow in our lifetimes. Walls and fences were no cheaper and didn’t really have much appeal. Spray the dead box a fun colour? Well, that wouldn’t last long.
Then it occurred to me, suddenly and out of the blue, just as we hope inspirations will come. (I’d been waiting a hell of a long time!)
I realised that the only time the hedges were really visible was in spring, before the grasses begin to grow. As soon as the grasses do grow, those precious hedges were obscured by this new growth. So maybe the hedges could be replaced by something just visible in spring? As in – paths!?
We thought about it and it seemed possible. What sort of paths? Much futile thought – the only really affordable path was the only one we could think might work: the same as all our paths. The local quarry’s ‘gravel to dust’. That dust is the trick – it’s clay and it sets hard in a path, once trodden and rained on a bit.
Having, as it were, girded our loins, and got Jeff’s approval and a load of gravel, we had the hard hard thing. Removal and burning of the hedges. Jeff did this for us and I’m not sure he was any happier about it than we were. And it was a very tough job and the hedges were defiant and well rooted and took a hell of a lot of digging out. Thanks, Jeff. And Charles for the burning.
We didn’t want to abandon all the hedging. We decided to make an outline all round the outside and down the middle. So we played at guessing how many plants we could get away with and felt horribly intimidated by the cost. I researched hedging plants, both in terms of what might tolerate being keep quite low and what we could find at an affordable price. We have ended up with Osmanthus burkwoodii from Buckingham Nurseries. The wrong Osmanthus, says Nick. Well, we shall see – we could afford them, and with Dawn’s help we grew them on for a year. (who’s Dawn? Dawn is a wonderful volunteer!!)
We did have to take a memorable trip, mid Covid, to a distant B&Q for many bags of John Innes compost, and we now have rather a lot of spare pots … But finally, a few weeks ago, Charles planted a ceremonial Osmanthus to start the new hedge and we had many fraught and anxious discussions about spacing. ‘I’m laughing with you, not at you’ says Jeff…..
So now we have a baby hedge, and still feel the sad loss. We wait apprehensively for news of Osmanthus disease or special Osmanthus chomping beetles…. And also for spring flowers on the new hedge, which we know, from growing Osmanthus, smell wonderful.
I suppose the most interesting thing is that it is quite quite different to walk amongst the grasses than just see them from the outside. I’ve found it very strange to be suddenly experiencing what almost feels like a new garden. Some of the paths are very steep – we may have to restrict visitor’s wanderings, but they (and us) will be able to do some wandering in amongst the grasses and this will be a totally new experience in the garden.
Will it compensate for the loss? We’re going to need extra planting of both grasses and some additional plants, so much of it will be quite new. I don’t know. I still feel very sad about what we’ve lost. I wish the Osmanthus would grow to hedge height overnight (then stop). It is looking at its saddest perhaps right now, because the grasses are being cut down and won’t regrow for ages.
Come and see what you think – and be kind about it?
On a possibly more positive note, I have been asked to join the American site, Garden Rant, as a regular contributor. It’s a great site for unorthodox, lively and challenging garden writing. Go and subscribe!
Such a helpful and hopeful post for gardeners contemplating loss or dealing with it. Thanks Anne. xo
It’s difficult to get across just how devastating the blight has been. It started in my veg plot with all my carefully topiarised box balls, that “froze” in response to one early spraying regime we tried and stayed looking so miserable I dug them all up and burned them. Then did the same much later to the variegated hedge around the seat. So I’ve done my bit as far as digging up is concerned! The whole experience has left all of us (including Jeff) obsessively checking our remaining box, of which there is still loads. So we haven’t finished with the trauma.
You have thought and discussed this inside out. The change has been expensive and painful and will be invigorating in only a season.
I still don’t know why we don’t get box blight much in my area of South Somerset. Somebody ought to research why….
Luck? Xx
Commiserations to you and the team, hideous to have to deal with. No getting round that. But at least from here on in it’s all positive: seeing the emerging new shapes and interplays of form and colour, and new vantage points from which to experience the garden. I am sure these feelings will predominate in surprisingly short order… 🙂 Thanks for your candour over this – it’s important that we recognise failure is actually the natural order of gardening, and we only keep it at bay partially and temporally. PS and yes, the *scent* of Osmanthus, mmmmm!
I do hope you are right – and that our visitors enjoy the changes. I do agree about failure – our ‘experts’ rarely, if ever, tell us ‘nothing to be done’.
I sympathize with the pain and the hard work involved in digging and burning the box hedges. I hope the excitement of planning and planting the hillside will compensate. As you say, it looks and feels like a new garden. How exciting is that!
Small whimpering noises…… yes, you’re right, of course…..!
Horrid losing box. Most distressing. Look forward to seeing how your osmanthus performs in the space. Have always found that Buckingham Nursery produces robust shrubs.
That’s good news. Would have helped, of course, if rabbits or those lovely deer things hadn’t chomped some of them!
I have just removed ( or at least had removed) a box hedge ( box moth not blight in this instance) surrounding a Magnolia stellata in my front garden which is only a small space. There was already a brick path around the outside of the hedge without which the garden looks so much bigger. Should have removed it a long time ago!
Sometimes good comes from bad. We replaced an avenue of trees and love the result more (probably) than the trees – https://veddw.com/general/globes/
I know a garden guide who asks people after a garden visit what they would blow up. Always worth thinking about! Xxx
Commiserations, deciding to take out the box hedging was a brave decision, and I’m sure it was the right one. Reading your article on garden design, I thought I would add my bit I would remove all the box, and start designing those areas again. I would use yew where I wanted a permanent dark green, it is surprising quick to grow. I would use open lattice structures where I want instant structure, and grow creepers on them, and I would otherwise embrace the open spaces and treat them in a completely new way. Good luck! Niky
Great thoughts – many thanks. Dare I say it —? We couldn’t remotely afford to do as you suggest!