Regular readers will appreciate that I write about all sorts of bizarre and random things. Today’s post is no different; I can’t recall any of my previous ramblings having a topiary angle but please correct me if you know my memory to be faulty.
You might have a bush you shape, or a box you tidy up with scissors; I have a delightful beech hedge. This hedge in question sits at the front of my home and is in great condition and growing strongly. It had its first trim of the year a few weekends ago and is still in a nice shape with no straggly bits sticking out of its sides.
This hedge is a source of genuine pride and pleasure to me and even as I write that surprises me a little. I am not exactly a keen gardener and although I mow the grass regularly and pull the weeds out of the drive, I am no Percy Thrower.
By way of background; when the Daventry off-shoot of the Baldwin family tree moved its roots to its current lodgings (more than a decade ago now), the hedge was looking more than a little sorry for itself – there were holes in it where plants had died and the postman and others used to take advantages of the gaps to walk through.
One of my early challenges was to find some new beech plants to fill the gaps. These were bought at the wrong time of year and basically looked like dead sticks. The garden centre manager assured me that the sticks would come back to life if left in water for a handful of days and to be fair, he was right (although at the time, I suspected that I was being taken for a ride).
Over the years since the hedge was replanted, it has done very well and today you’d never know there was ever a hole in it. It’s also twice as high as it was when we arrived.
Beech is deciduous and that means that over the winter the hedge looks rather sorry for itself. In Spring though the thing starts sprouting new shoots and, for me, there is a joy, almost a spiritual uplift, in watching the hedge come back to life, the leaves unfurling and the growth outwards and upwards happening as fast as the weather conditions will permit. When the hedge comes out of hibernation, winter is over and the longer, brighter days can be looked forward to. Honestly the feeling is the same kind of thing that you might feel when the sun starts blazing and banishes the cold.
Gardening is usually a chore for me but I have an electric hedge trimmer and enjoy taking the blades to the hedge in order to maintain its neat and tidy lines. After the last cut, I stood across the street to admire its colour, bushiness and form and decided that a blog post was necessary to share the pleasure.
At the time, I mentioned to my son that I loved my hedge – he looked at me and was cheeky enough to say “you’re mad”. Still before this hedge became part of my life, I’d have had the same opinion.
I said to the wonderful Mrs Baldwin just a few nights ago that I’d miss the hedge if we moved – it’s true too.
So, by way of a final reflection – a hedge is so much more rewarding than no hedge. If the front of your plot is bare, change it – grow something that you can take pride in.
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You might have a bush you shape, or a box you tidy up with scissors; I have a delightful beech hedge. This hedge in question sits at the front of my home and is in great condition and growing strongly. It had its first trim of the year a few weekends ago and is still in a nice shape with no straggly bits sticking out of its sides.
This hedge is a source of genuine pride and pleasure to me and even as I write that surprises me a little. I am not exactly a keen gardener and although I mow the grass regularly and pull the weeds out of the drive, I am no Percy Thrower.
By way of background; when the Daventry off-shoot of the Baldwin family tree moved its roots to its current lodgings (more than a decade ago now), the hedge was looking more than a little sorry for itself – there were holes in it where plants had died and the postman and others used to take advantages of the gaps to walk through.
One of my early challenges was to find some new beech plants to fill the gaps. These were bought at the wrong time of year and basically looked like dead sticks. The garden centre manager assured me that the sticks would come back to life if left in water for a handful of days and to be fair, he was right (although at the time, I suspected that I was being taken for a ride).
Over the years since the hedge was replanted, it has done very well and today you’d never know there was ever a hole in it. It’s also twice as high as it was when we arrived.
Beech is deciduous and that means that over the winter the hedge looks rather sorry for itself. In Spring though the thing starts sprouting new shoots and, for me, there is a joy, almost a spiritual uplift, in watching the hedge come back to life, the leaves unfurling and the growth outwards and upwards happening as fast as the weather conditions will permit. When the hedge comes out of hibernation, winter is over and the longer, brighter days can be looked forward to. Honestly the feeling is the same kind of thing that you might feel when the sun starts blazing and banishes the cold.
Gardening is usually a chore for me but I have an electric hedge trimmer and enjoy taking the blades to the hedge in order to maintain its neat and tidy lines. After the last cut, I stood across the street to admire its colour, bushiness and form and decided that a blog post was necessary to share the pleasure.
At the time, I mentioned to my son that I loved my hedge – he looked at me and was cheeky enough to say “you’re mad”. Still before this hedge became part of my life, I’d have had the same opinion.
I said to the wonderful Mrs Baldwin just a few nights ago that I’d miss the hedge if we moved – it’s true too.
So, by way of a final reflection – a hedge is so much more rewarding than no hedge. If the front of your plot is bare, change it – grow something that you can take pride in.
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