Surrey Homes | SH45 | July 2018 | Interiors supplement inside

Summer
Spring
Spring spectacular
My impressions of Dixter in late spring (the gardens open
to the public in April) are of tulips and topiary. Mad, darkly
looming yew shapes: peacocks on pyramids, castellations
and huge chunky archways. They are too impressive to be
whimsical, but you wouldn’t bat an eyelid if you came across
a talking caterpillar on a giant mushroom somewhere here.
The yew is a dark green backdrop, acting as both
anchor and stage set, showcasing the luminous dancing
troops of tulips among the fresh new growth of perennial
foliage. The first wisps of monstrous fennels are already
prominent, yet to rear up to their eventual dizzying
heights, you can almost hear the squeak of them as they
expand among their companions in the stock beds.
It is joyful and uplifting to come to Dixter in May,
when the spring bulbs are sounding their fanfare and the
wave of surging green is making its summer promises.
Summer meadows and exotica
Early summer starts with drifts of opium poppies – which give
the relaxed impression of being self-seeded, but are actually
grown from seed and planted out as seedlings – among clouds
of airy purple Thalictrum, abundantly buzzing meadows
and the beginnings of the bedding. But not bedding in the
municipal style, instead, wild and outrageous experimental
bursts of colour, combined in often unexpected ways.
Flower borders at Great Dixter, Christopher Lloyd
showed us in his book, The Adventurous Gardener are
exuberant, dynamic and often groundbreaking.
Lloyd famously caused a horticultural intake of breath
when he and Garrett ripped out the rose garden – created
by Lloyd’s mother – and replanted it with exotics. A few
roses still manage to eke it out there, swamped by a glorious
outrage of bananas, palms, canna lilies and ginger.
By late summer the yew hedges and topiary have become
floating green islands on a riotous sea. Only those in the
meadows are calm, as the wildflowers and grasses fade gently
into dusty gold, setting seed and dying back for the winter.
Self-seeding and the use of accidentally and deliberately
planted annuals and biennials are a big feature of the
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style here at Dixter. Some are magnificent and become
focal points. Verbascum bombyciferum - a huge yellow
spire with felty grey leaves - tall teasels, tame thistles
and evening primroses make arresting focal points.
Some are gentler; swathes of Verbena bonariensis and
Tagetes ‘Cinnabar’ wash through the borders, filling out into
tapestries and impressionistic panoramas. Late summer here
is an endless lesson of colour effects and artful serendipity.
Autumn glories
The start of autumn at Great Dixter is as spectacular as high
summer, the exuberance not dimmed until temperatures
dip and the sun hangs lower in the sky. The borders
are still in full swing, when those in other gardens have
fizzled out and become drab echoes of themselves.
Here at Dixter, dahlias gleam like jewels, tall daisies reach
for the skies and whacky, candy pink blooms of Persicaria
orientalis dangle wildly among the ornamental grasses.
There is a slow softening as the days shorten;
the light slants among the grasses, and the narrow
paths, now festooned with foliage, can wet your
legs with dew or recent rain as you brush past.
By the time the garden closes to the public, the
colours are mellowing into biscuity golds, rusts and
dusty purple. The herbaceous plants and flowers start
to die back and now the art is in dying gracefully,
leaving photogenic stems, seed-heads and berries.
At the top of the garden, pumpkins festoon the
Autumn