The Phoenix Strategy

In the early days of the garden, we had a eucalyptus that got way too big and eventually gave up the ghost after being hard pruned once too often. Initially, we left the trunk for climbers to grow into. That too, eventually rotted, but by then, in 2022, the climbers were so well established that an alternative upright was needed pdq. So, David installed a 3” diameter wooden post – which was merely supposed to be temporary solution - above the 6ft fence, bringing the height to about 12ft in total.

Over the last four years, our jasmine Fiona’s Sunrise, clematis Freckles and next door’s rosa New Dawn, festooned the pole, creating the most striking display that looked, to all intents and purposes, like a small tree, its canopy about 8ft wide.

We marvelled at how the pole managed to stay upright so were not surprised, but pretty horrified, when Storm Austin finally blew it down, last Friday. One minute it was doing its thing on the sunny side of the garden, a beacon of chartreuse foliage, covered in cascading, pastel pink roses. And the next; I looked out of the window and it wasn’t there! It had finally collapsed, falling diagonally across the sunny border onto the gravel pathway.

Daring to survey the damage the following morning, I braced myself for catastrophic losses, (ever the drama queen!) But although its mass was the size of your average family car, armed with secateurs and loppers, I got to work, chopping it off the fence bit by bit. It became pretty obvious that the only thing holding it up had been the thick tangle of jasmine vines and rose branches, coiled tightly around the pole. By some miracle, or David’s secure installation, the fence was not damaged and could be snapped back into its fixings. My prized pittosporum Tom Thumb, which had taken its full weight, was unscathed. Salvia confertiflora was liberated with minimal damage. Melianthus major took a direct hit, but once cut back, revealed strong new growth at the base.

I was beginning to enjoy myself. On this bright, fresh morning, new opportunities presented themselves as I cleared away the debris. With the dense, untidy thatch of clematis and unruly, boisterous jasmine now removed, there was more space at the back of the borders and far more light. I would not replace the pole. The climbers would refill the gap on the fence in no time. With a sigh of relief, the existing shrubs could spread out and all would be well.

Love, Caroline

Cover photo: The top left hand corner of cover photo shows the canopy before it collapsed.