4 SEPTEMBER 2004, Page 49

Weather woes

Ursula Buchan

It has been rotten weather for gardening here, so far. Rain in late April, too hot weather in early June, then cold nights, drizzle and cloud, followed by furious winds in early July, and torrential rain and flooding in early August; more than six inches of rain has fallen this month, three times the average for this district. A number of shrubs of Mediterranean origin are dying before my eyes, having been submerged in water for three days. As I write, the garden is set to open on Bank Holiday Monday in aid of church funds, which has plunged me in gloom.

As I look around my sodden, bedraggled, weedy garden, I thank goodness, however, that my livelihood depends on it only tangentially. Indeed, it is possible for roe to earn money by moaning publicly about it. But what of all the commercial horticultural operations, whose customers are as sensitive to the weather as I am? I cannot help but sympathise with the thousands of garden centres and nurseries trying to turn a profit in such a climatically challenging year.

Small-scale specialist nurseries, in particular, get my sympathy. Often run by husband and wife teams, with a bit of help, they are usually to be found down some country lane in a distant shire. Some only sell plants on site, while others are solely mail-order businesses, and still more do both. Many were founded in response to the growth of garden centres.

The garden centre, as an idea, was imported from the United States more than 40 years ago, when the development of 'containerisation' made it viable. Nurserymen discovered that they could display plants in light, plastic pots at any time of year, rather than having to grow them in fields and lift them only in autumn or spring, and so could sell them in retail outlets rather than largely by mail-order. (I remember vividly, when I was working for a nursery in Holland in 1976, the frozenfingered misery of digging perennials out of semi-frozen ground in March, then having to stand in an almost equally cold and draughty shed to pack them for dispatch to customers)

Containerisation. and the growth of garden centres, transformed and modernised the nursery-stock industry and put gardenmaking within the reach of everybody. It did not necessarily suit the most discerning gardeners. however. The quantity of plant varieties that these concerns carried dropped markedly, in part to accommo

date more immediately lucrative and less problematic garden items, such as sun loungers and barbecues. There was more emphasis on plants whose main virtue was that they flowered or looked good when young, and so had immediate appeal for casual, 'impulse' buyers.

Most nurseries either became retail garden centres and gave up growing, or became wholesale concerns supplying those centres. As a result, specialist retail nurseries sprang up to serve that part of the gardening public dissatisfied with the new ways of doing things. While garden centres are able to carry a reasonable range of hardy and indoor plants, provided that these are easy and amenable, most do not provide catalogues or stock lists, which makes them all but useless for anyone planning a garden systematically. No one designs their garden and then takes the list of plants required to the local garden centre — or not if they want to be spared teeth-grinding frustration, at least.

In 1987, the fortunes of small-scale nurseries were boosted by the founding of the annually published Plant Finder (now the RHS Plant Finder), which lists the names of most plants available in this country, and which nurseries sell them. In the 1990s, further help came with the advent of Internet shopping. The tiniest nursery in the furthest corner of the land now has a website, more swiftly and easily updated than any catalogue, and with the capacity to reach a worldwide clientele. Ask a search engine for the most abstruse plant you can think of and it will throw up half a dozen nursery websites across the world, most of which will take credit cards.

I am deeply attached to specialist nurseries: for the expertise of the enthusiasts that run them and their generosity in sharing it; for the reasonable price of the plants; and the luxury of a catalogue. Within driving distance, I can call on Wootten's Plants of Wenhaston for pelargoniums and perennials, Wingwell Nursery near Oakham for perennials, Bluebell Nursery near Ashby de la Zouch for unusual trees and shrubs, Stone House Cottage Nurseries near Kidderminster for climbers and wall plants, The Cottage Herbery near Tenbury Wells for herbs, Claire Austin at Shifnal for irises and peonies, and Field House Nurseries at Gotham near Nottingham for primulas and auriculas. After such a disappointing season, and with a border to plant up this autumn, I'm taking to the roads, or rather country lanes, to fill the boot with good-sized, healthy, interesting plants for £200 or so. This is consoling retail therapy and I need it — just as much as the nurseries need me.