This is my first article of the season for the Eastern Daliy Press

Another year has passed and a few more grey hairs have been added and maybe the old bones creak a bit more than they used to, never-the-less I have been working frantically in the garden in recent weeks getting the garden ready for its first open day of the year this Sunday 13^th June.

A decision was made last summer to open the garden a few weeks earlier this year as a steady trickle of visitors usually arrive every weekend throughout the spring thinking the garden is open all the time! Unfortunately, after having the coldest winter for over 30 years, it has had a devastating affect on the garden and everyone else’s that dabble with plants on the edge of hardiness. Here, the temperature dropped down to about -5C (23F) though I have heard stories of –9C (16F) and lower in the wilds of Norfolk. Up until the winter before last some plants such as Cannas and Dahlias had been left in the ground for many years, in fact Canna indica ‘Purpurea’ had done a stint of over ten years returning regularly in late spring, though thankfully Amulree Exotics and Urban Jungle have  guaranteed a good show of these wonderfully exotic plants again this summer.

Like many gardeners, with such a long run of mild winters I had discontinued wrapping my large clumps of the root hardy banana Musa basjoo about seven years ago. Here in the garden this hardiest of bananas has lived up to its provenance of being root hardy though I did lose about 60% of the stems on several of my twenty years old clumps due to such low day temperatures. The stems that have survived are producing new green leaves from the tops but are very slow indeed. On the bright side though, one of the clumps that was cut to the ground now has twenty one new pups sprouting with bursting vigour around the base. I would expect that these will do very well this summer, especial with lashings of compost and blood fish and bone liberally spread around!

I am really surprised that most of the gingers in the garden survived without protection as permafrost went down about two inches into the ground during the coldest part of the winter. Gingers are always late to shoot, and several are only 3-4ins tall, but will accelerate as the season progresses into monsters of the garden.

One plant I have mentioned in past years is the common house-plant Tradescantia fluminensis, more commonly known as Wandering Jew. This supposedly tender plant had survived at least six winters here, dying down with the first frosts of winter only to return again in late spring, and to my absolute amazement it survived last winter with flying colours. Even multicoloured form like T. Fluminensis ‘Maidens blush’ with its pink splashes on apple green foliage has survived the big freeze.

Unfortunately a large old Pear tree in the garden covered in Ivey lost one of its largest branches bringing down my phone-line, causing me to be phone and Internet free for three weeks – a very odd experience! This grand old tree had to be cut back to its main trunk, were the Ivey and a very established old Clematis Montana will soon go crazy and cover it up again. Unfortunately the dear old tree gave shade to my collection of tree ferns Dicksonia Antarctica, so I am now having to carry out a very strict regimen of watering the trunks every two or three days to keep the fabulously lush new growth happy.

Large plants such as the Phormiums were not affected by the frost, but did collapse under the many inches of prolonged snow weighing down the foliage over a long period; hence they have all had a severe haircut this spring, though I know by the end of the season they will all be back in fine fettle.

The Xerophytic garden (desert) had the most damage this winter despite being covered with a rather clever, almost sculptural construction made by Jamie Spooner from home-grown bamboo canes with multicoloured plastic balls on the tips so as not to puncture the plastic. Unfortunately, there had been several weeks of rain in the autumn before its construction which sealed in moisture which then froze during the prolonged cold weather. If it had been dry when constructed, I’m sure there would have been fewer casualties. Most of my Agaves looked in perfect condition until it started to warm up in early spring when many of them collapsed into piles of goo!  Two keen exoticists Keith and Melisa in Costessey Norwich, lost many fine and established specimens in their fabulous garden, a veritable paradise I hope to write an article about later on in the season. A well known and keen plantsman and exoticist Paul Spracklin who also has an extensive range of cacti and succulents lost countless specimens and managed to fill a skip with carcases, with one Agave in particular have been in his collection for over 40 years. The question is: will they grow such things again? Of course the answer has to be yes!

A friend of mine has his own view of how he thinks the seasons work, at least here in Norfolk. Rather than the standard block of four segments three months long, he considers it seems to be more like – two months spring, three months summer two months autumn and finally five months winter. I certainly do see where he is coming from on this; the winter section of the year always seems a lot longer than our woefully short summers. I suppose this is the joy of living on a temperate Island surrounded by water, though if we didn’t have the gulfstream to buffer us we would be much colder indeed. Never-the-less, I think we should be prepared for the possibility that we might be in for a string of cold winters over the next few year, though I hope not!

There of course have been many more casualties in the garden and far too many to mention here, though I hope when visitors start arriving it will all look as though nothing has happened. As usual my newest Devon Rex cat Dweezal is sitting on my right shoulder as I write this so I think it must be time for a cup of tea…

Sadly, the end of the season has finally arrived here at the Exotic Garden with tomorrow afternoon’s opening being the last of 2008.

It was only a few years ago that I decided to keep the garden open until the end of October at the request of friends and visitors, and it was only five years ago that the garden was open every other weekend until the end of September. How things have changed.

Despite the distinct lack of warming sun this year, the garden has fared well, especially with all the rain we’ve had in recent months prompting much growth, particularly this month. In fact, autumn is one of the best times to see the garden in all its glory.

Many plants, such as the Brugmansias (Angels Trumpets) flower until the first frosts of autumn hailing the beginning of their forced dormancy. Specimens that were planted in the ground in late May will soon have to be dug up and over-wintered in large black plastic pots with much of their root system removed. They can be stored at any height as long as you have the room.

I prune mine back to about 7ft so that they fit comfortably in the conservatory. Equally, they can be cut back severely to within a few inches of the ground and put under a bench in a greenhouse or shed, where they do not need light as they will be dormant until the spring.

Container grown plants can be kept in bloom over winter at a temperature of 10C (50F) and higher if you have somewhere light to keep them going, otherwise a few degrees above freezing is adequate as long as they are kept on the dry side. I loathe having to put the garden to bed at this time of year as it is still so full of vitality, with many plants such as the bananas looking at their best and most vigorous, especially the purple Abyssinian banana Ensete ventricosum ‘maurelli’.

This fabulous banana is native to the Ethiopian plateaus where it enjoys cool weather though it is damaged by the slightest frost, unlike the much harder Musa basjoo which has been growing outside at the Exotic Garden for over two decades with – as yet – no loses.

Until five years ago the basjoos were surrounded in November by wooden pallets up to 3m (10ft) high, but now, due to much warmer winters and laziness on my part, they are left to the vagaries of our temperate winters. The heat-loving purple Abyssinian bananas do have to be over-wintered though if you wish to have even bigger specimens the following year.

This will be done here in the first week of November before the first frosts. Many, being very large now, require at least two people to dig up these colossal plants. Several have reached 3.5m (12ft) high this year with trunks up to 30cm (1ft) across. Hence, they’re very heavy. Most of the top growth is removed, leaving trunks up to 1.5m (5ft) high. The ground around them is sliced through, about 5-8cm (2-3ins) away from the trunk, and the root ball is then placed in large black plastic pot or dustbin liner.

Don’t worry about cutting so many roots off, these will re-grow next year This can be a messy job as, being so full of water, they tend to leak all over the place. The heavy trunks are then man-handled into a greenhouse where they are over-wintered at a minimum of 10C (50F). Smaller plants can be over-wintered in a cool bedroom if you do not have a greenhouse or conservatory.

Many of the so-called house plants that are grown in the garden are treated as throw-away plants because I don’t have room to store all of them through the winter. Thus, leaving them in the garden is a good chance to test if they have any hardiness. I have mentioned before that the supposedly non-hardy houseplant Tradescantia fluminensis (Wandering Jew) has been left outside through six winters now, where they grow as herbaceous perennials that re-emerge in April. The Spider plant Chlorophytum comosum is also a returning perennial at the Exotic Garden, dying back to a central tuft, to return with full vigour the following spring.

One set of houseplants that do have to be brought under cover are the bromeliads. These fabulous plants are over-wintered in a polythene tunnel at around 5C (40F) and warmer if possible.

The more tender forms go into a large propagating frame and are overwintered at around 15C (59F), keeping them nice and cosy on the coldest nights. Most of the cannas are left in position to enjoy the dwindling autumn sun until they are blackened by frost, usually in December, though in some years it has been Christmas before this has happened. They are then cut down to within 6in of the ground and the foliage placed over the crowns to keep the tubers from freezing.

Many of the gingers are hardy and can stay in the ground throughout the winter with a mulch of straw or something similar that will protect their crowns from the worst of whatever the winter throws at them. If you have wet, clay soil I would recommend potting them up for the winter and storing them in an out-house or under a greenhouse bench and keeping them on the dry side.

Many of the succulents, cacti and other spiky things will, in fact, take extremely low freezing temperatures well as long as water doesn’t collect in their crowns, thus causing rot in the damp days of mid-winter, and as long as they are planted in extremely well-drained sandy soil. If in doubt a temporary greenhouse can be made over them using horticultural polythene to keep out the worst winter weather.

For now, though, don’t forget that tomorrow’s your last chance to visit the Exotic Garden this year, unless, that is, you are one of the many volunteers who help out during winter.

The garden still boasts luxuriant growth and colour, so why not come along and have a final stroll through the garden before it goes into its winter slumber.

Meanwhile, have a good winter and enjoy reading those seed and plant catalogues!

What a difference the sun makes to the garden at this glorious time of year, setting off those gorgeous autumnal colours. I walked around the garden this morning to inspire myself for this, my penultimate article of the Exotic Garden open season.

Visitors to the garden at this time of year are always pleasantly surprised at how wonderful the garden looks, with so many colours and shades of green blending with the rich, fiery colours of autumn.

The mornings here usually start with mid- October mists softening the outline of the garden and giving a warm, soft milkiness to distant trees and buildings on the horizon.

I have mentioned in past articles that two or three of my six cats usually accompany me on my ambles around the garden and, of course, my latest wander was no exception.

They always appear aloof, doing their own thing, though I only have to move a few yards and they reappear, running in and out of the undergrowth or suddenly appearing high up in a tree, precariously hanging from a rather thin branch from which they occasionally fall. This happened just as I was trying to photograph some fruit on a 15ft high Clerodendrum trichotomum.

Although there was virtually no wind, Lawrence, one of my Devon Rex cats was determined to clamber in the uppermost parts, making the tree wobble – not very helpful when you’re trying to focus on some rather small fruit. This is a superb small tree at this time of year.

The deliciously scented cymes of pure white flowers have all but gone over now, making way for small steel blue fruit in the middle of wine red calyxes which will remain attractive until Christmas, providing they are not all consumed by the blackbirds who find them similarly attractive!

Near the entrance to the garden are a group of six towering Cupressus sempervirens ‘Pyramidalis’, more commonly known as the ‘Italian funeral Cypress’, a conifer that was considered non-hardy in all but the warmest gardens only a few decades ago.

They are imposing, tall, narrow, evergreen conifers often used in formal landscaping. They will reach 7m (20ft) rather quickly and then continue to grow more slowly to heights of 12-18m (40-60ft) or more in a favourable location. In our gardens though, they are best kept at a height at which they can be clipped to maintain their slim shape. These majestic plants have been cultivated since ancient times in the Mediterranean region, where they can live up to 1,000 years. Young plants should be firmly staked as they blow over easily until they are fully rooted.

Of course, the many bamboos come into their own at this time of year, appearing rather like ghosts gliding through the early morning mists. One of my favourites at this time of year is Phyllostatchus aureosulcata f. Aureocaulis – as with most bamboos, the name is a long one.

This handsome plant is loosely clumping and grows to about 5m tall after eight years. The culms (canes) are rich golden yellow and are often tinted reddishbrown on the sunny side of new growth. On the more tender side of the planting here at the Exotic Garden, plants such as Ricinus Communis in all its forms have done well this year with the fairly warm nights and days over the last six weeks or so, producing, in the process, massive plants, with some topping 10ft with leaves up to 18ins wide.

My favourite is R. c. ‘New Zealand Purple’. This fairly recent introduction has rich glossy dark purple foliage and at this time of year they produce flowers followed by clusters of spiky fruit hidden inside the foliage. These massive plants are all produced from seed sown in April. Many plant such as the cannas are now so tall that some are falling over with the sheer weight of their foliage.

As long as the old flower spikes have been removed, they will keep on flowering until frost cuts them down. In recent years I have been leaving them in the ground during the winter, covered with their own foliage to ward off the frost. On the really tender side, my collection of bromeliads has exploded in the last year. Boy, have they grown! This is certainly a headscratching time as I have to find even more room to store them through the winter. Most of my bromeliads are neoregelias which seem to tolerate over-wintering at about 7C with the more tender forms going into a large propagator with overhead lighting at around 14C, thus keeping them cosy on the dullest winter days.

These ridiculously colourful plants look amazing in foliage alone, though when in flower they are a real treat. Much of the summer bedding has gone berserk this year thanks to all the rain we’ve had.

One in particular, which is planted under some tall purple Abyssinian bananas, is Iresine herbstii ‘Brilliantissima’, which has never reached such proportions before, with some shoots reaching 4ft tall with a similar spread. This stunning and much-admired – visitors always want cuttings – plant has vivid magenta leaves with lighter veining and magenta stems.

Over the course of the next week I will be taking my own cuttings of this brilliant plant to be over-wintered snugly in a propagator. The exiting thing about exotic planting is that it goes on until the first frosts, which at the Exotic Garden rarely occur before mid- November, and those are usually light.

Of course the hardy planting, such as the bamboos and palms to name but two, take the garden through the dullest days of winter and into the new year.

There is a sense of defiance to be found in autumn foliage colour – one last exotic explosion and then it’s all over until next year. And, while it lasts, that final magnificent moment can leave unrivalled memories to enrich the empty months that separate us from the confident exuberance of the spring and summer to come.

As we head into mid-October with the autumn equinox fast approaching and the sun much lower in the sky, the leaves turn through countless shades of green, gold and red to deep bronze, purple and brown and should not be missed but enjoyed for their short transient phase as they move from summer to winter.

What autumn lacks in flower colour is more than made up for with the fiery leaf shades that many trees and shrubs produce as the days shorten. All this happens because of cooling outdoor temperatures working on the sugars within the leaves, exposing pigments which, until then, remain hidden.

Leaves contain a variety of chemicals that only absorb some wavelengths of light within the spectrum of white light. Leaves that are green have that colour because of the chlorophyll inside them. This pigment absorbs red light while reflecting yellow and blue light and so appear green. In autumn, deciduous trees, those that lose their leaves in winter, need to absorb some of the nutrients in their leaves before they drop off and decompose, consequently feeding the plants roots.

It would be a waste of resources for the tree to discard leaves full of active chlorophyll, so a process called senescence is set in motion. As many nutrients as possible are re-absorbed and then pigments in the leaf are broken down. As the leaf dies, the chlorophyll is replaced by pigments such as anthocyanin, which is red and beta carotene, which is yellow.

This chemical cocktail of breakdown products in the leaves is responsible for the glorious autumn displays before the leaves fall into drifts of fabulous colours on the ground, creating a wonderland of colour for us to enjoy. My house at the Exotic Garden goes through a glorious transformation itself at this time of year.

It is clothed from foundation to chimney top in scrambling Virginia creeper, Parthenocissus quinquefolia, and every year I am amazed by the speed of the colour transformation, as its leaf colouration changes from dark green into warm hues of ochre, auburn, deep red and burgundy before leaf fall.

A similar self-clinging climber Boston ivy, Parthenocissus tricuspidata, also turns brilliant shades of red, yellow and purple until it appears as though the leaves are made of fire! The dark red-purple foliage of the shrub Cotinus cogeria ‘Royal Red’ complements the smoke-like fuzz of tiny pink-purple flowers in summer, but in autumn the leaves of this handsome deciduous shrub change to a brilliant red, as does C. ‘Grace’, another truly splendid variety with leaves that turn to a vibrant, glowing red. C. ‘Royal Purple’ is another gorgeous form with purple wine-coloured foliage that becomes duller towards autumn when it turns a rich red.

Aesculus neglecta ‘Autumn Fire’ is a superb small tree that’s native to the south-eastern United States. The foliage is a coppery colour when it emerges in spring, turning dark green in the summer. It then explodes into a kaleidoscope of red, orange and yellow during the ever-shortening days. It is not until autumn that the real reason for planting Parrotia persica becomes apparent.

At this time of year, the glossy green leaves begin to change colour and a veritable cornucopia of hues appear. Rich crimsons, brilliant yellows and warm ambers fight for attention but in the end always seem to complement each other to form a spectacular autumn show for our delectation. I cannot conclude without mentioning Liquidambar styraciflua, or Sweetgum, thus named by the Spanish naturalist Hernandez, who was the first European to discover this beautiful tree in the early 16th century.

It was given its botanical name because of its aromatic gum, which Hernandez described as ‘liquid amber’. It wasn’t until 1681 that this fine tree was introduced to Britain by the missionary plant collector John Bannister. It is grown in British gardens solely for the magnificent colours of its autumn foliage, which turn brilliant shades of purple, crimson, orange and yellow, deservedly making it one of the most popular of all ornamental trees.

In the 1980s I began experimenting with exotic plants, probably enthused by my liking for house plants as a boy. At that time there was little information on growing exotica, with only scant details available from mostly Victorian gardening books.

There was no internet to ease my way to discovering obscure plants. I spotted the odd Trachycarpus (Windmill Palm) lurking in hidden corners of old gardens, but that was enough to give me an inkling of what might be possible outside the balmy confines of Cornwall. While scouring the gardening section of a local bookshop I remember finding a book by Myles Challis (published in 1988) entitled The Exotic Garden.

It was based on the author’s experiences and experimentations in his small 40×40ft garden in Leytonstone, East London. It was the first book published in the 20th century that covered what was known in Victorian times as sub-tropical gardening, in other words the use of exotic-looking but largely hardy plants to create a garden reminiscent of some far-off tropical climate.

Exoticists like me, who gardened in their own vacuum around the country and who yearned for more information about the kind of exotic plants that could be grown outside in the UK, devoured this book. But it wasn’t until the 1990s that nurseries selling so-called exotic plants began to appear outside of Cornwall. The first major nursery was opened by Angus White at Cooks Farm, Nuthurst, near Horsham in West Sussex.

Architectural Plants became a runaway success. Angus explained: “For years I lamented the fact that the average British garden (mine included) was about as fascinating to look at in winter as a wet breeze block. My solution was to put together a special collection of special looking plants.

Some were spiky, some had big leaves, some looked tropical, some looked absurd but all were evergreen.” Angus’ pioneering venture was followed by Martin Gibbons, who opened The Palm Centre near Richmond, in Surrey, where he became one of the main proponents of palms not only in Britain but Europe as well.

He started to import palms from all over the world, many being sourced on his own expeditions to far-flung places in search of hardy species. I began to hear of other enthusiastic gardeners who were pushing the boundaries of what can be grown in our British gardens. Paul Spracklin was one such rare person who started his garden in the 1990s at South Benfleet, near Canvey Island in Essex.

There, he transformed a terraced slope facing south across the Thames Estuary into a sub-tropical, horticultural wonderland covering a third-ofan- acre that appears oddly at home with its surroundings. Many of his early plants came from those pioneering nurseries.

In recent years Paul’s passion for exotic plants has taken him down the arid root and he now has one of the best landscaped cacti and succulent collections in East Anglia, protected from cold north winds by a line of ash trees. Paul was fortunate in the beginning with such a sheltered site, but he taught himself (with the help of some trial and error) that taking chances on unlikely plants often pays off!

In 1993, the late, great gardening writer Christopher Lloyd announced to his readers that he was digging up the rose garden that had been a central feature of his father’s Edwardian design at Great Dixter in East Sussex and replacing it with a planting of lush, subtropical exotics, which has delighted and sometimes shocked summer visitors. Another landmark in the revival of exotic gardening came in 1998 with the publication of The Plantfinder’s Guide to Tender Perennials by Ian Cooke. In it, Ian discussed the use of tender perennials.

This excellent book was followed in 2003 by The Gardener’s Guide to Growing Cannas, in which he extolled the virtues of over 150 species and cultivars and in the process reinvigorated a plant muchadmired by the Victorians in their great parks. My own contribution began in 2000 when my first book, The New Exotic Garden was published, followed, last year, by The Encyclopaedia of Exotic Plants for Temperate Climates, in which I pulled together all of the past and recent information on exotic plants into one tome.

Over the last decade many nurseries have been opened throughout the British Isles – far too many to mention them all here, though I must mention Amulree Exotics and Urban Jungle. Between them, they sell many of the plants essential for creating today’s version of the exotic garden.

Apart from my own garden here in Norwich, which now boasts an additional xerophytic garden, we in Norfolk are also fortunate enough to have the fabulous garden created by Alan Gray and Graham Robson at East Ruston Old Vicarage. Their large garden contains, amid a myriad of other styles, a Desert Wash, designed to resemble parts of Arizona, where it seldom rains, and an Exotic Garden with surrounding beds planted with both hardy and tender plants to give an exotic and foreign feel.

I must also give an honourable mention to the wonderful Beth Chatto Gardens. In recent years, the gardens, which took root in 1960, have become known for the superb gravel garden which was created out of a former car park and where you can see an amazing array of droughttolerant plants. This brings me neatly on to the question of the future of all gardens, not just exotic ones.

Our climate is changing irrevocably. Unpredictable seasonal temperatures and rainfall combined with extreme events such as drought, flooding and storms are bringing new challenges to gardens everywhere. While gardeners have always thrived on certainty, the onset of climate change appears to mean that uncertainty is now the only certainty. Beth Chatto recently said: “We just can’t expect to carry on growing all those lovely bedding plants and dahlias – less intensive gardening without the use of chemicals and the introduction of wise watering must become an attractive proposition for the horticultural retail industry.”

Longer summers and warmer weather might sound like a dream come true, but the effects of climate change are not all good and could have far-reaching consequences for our gardens. England’s days as a traditionally ‘green and pleasant land’ could be numbered if the predicted changes to our climate continue at the current rate. Within the next 50-80 years, cottage gardens, yew hedges and that great British institution, the lawn, will be battling for survival against warmer temperatures, wetter winters and drier summers.

We have just had two of the wettest summers on record, showing that our typical summers are now way off skew as localised climatic conditions change.

Unpredictable seasonal temperatures and rainfall combined, with extreme events such as drought, flooding and storms, are bringing new challenges to gardeners everywhere.

While gardeners should do all they can to maintain our native species, this changing climate also present an ideal opportunity to explore the variety of different colours, scents and architectural shapes that drought-loving Mediterranean and large-leaved tropical plants offer.