Sunday 11 May 2008

Mottisfont abbey and gardens

The weather is holding on: twenty-seven degrees and sunny.  











I should not be surprised maybe- I remember that last year Easter time weather was splendid, and the Kew gardens were marvelous under the sun. However, knowing how fleeting the weather can be in this country, I stole half a day from a Sunday in which I would otherwise have condemned myself to work, and went to Mottisfont House in Romsey. 

What is it in the British that makes them design gardens in which one feels and moves like on the set of a movie? Sceneries in which one participates of the view, but at the same time one also feels just as if he is the main character of a long shot? In which the appearing and disappearing of the people in the folds of the landscape reminds one of the twists of a plot by Jane Austen? (And isn't there just one such scene in Mansfield Park? Where all the characters walk in the park, and prodigious developments follow?) 

The roses in the walled garden are still sleeping- only some late irises and some rosemary bush (the latter must be rubbing its eyes at its good luck for this time of the year), are spreading scent. 











The wisteria on the South side of the house is in bloom, and the Test walk revealed a sweet surprise- what this flower growing underwater is, I don't know; but it is so beautiful. 


 

Wednesday 7 May 2008

Philodendron Erubescens 'Imperial Red'


This plant here finally started to show some sign of growing. Boy, is this a slow one- or did I do something wrong? 


Anyway, this is the first new leaf I see on my plant- it has a nice shiny reddish brown color at first, like a leather shoe, then veers to a olive green color. Photos taken at one day intervals from each other. 





Monday 5 May 2008

Kenwood House


Bank holiday weekend, with more-or-less decent weather (meaning it is not pouring rain) so out to London to visit Kenwood House. 
One wonders what kind of plant could survive in those rooms with a 4 meter high ceiling and tall, but very narrow windows. (Alas, I still have to find a decent book on the social history of indoor gardening in order to find answers to this type of questions.) Compared with those of a Dutch stadthuis of the same period, whose diffused and copious light reminds one of Pieter Saenredam's paintings of church interiors, the rooms in Kenwood House fare rather poorly. Is this difference cause or effect of the British genius for outdoor gardening, and of the Dutch quiet love of indoor plants?

A nice orangerie in Kenwood House, though- perfectly aligned with the South, not too big to look like part of a commercial enterprise, not too small to be only cute. Also, symmetrically placed at the other end of the building from the library. Plants and books- what more could the Earl ask for?