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Irish Times

5 hours ago

• Irish Times

Poppies symbolise the fleeting, bittersweet beauty of summer gardens

If ever there was a flower that symbolises the fleeting, bittersweet beauty of the garden in summer, then it's surely the poppy, with its gossamer-thin petals and delicate, slender stems. But do you know your short-lived, sun-loving annual poppy species, including many that are suitable for poorer, free-draining soils, from longer-lived biennial, perennial and shrubby kinds, including some that will only flourish in cool, damp, humus-rich, woodland conditions? If you're lucky, you may have come across the very rare, yellow-horned poppy, Glaucium flavum (a particular favourite of the late British artist and gardener Derek Jarman), a wild biennial or short-lived perennial species sometimes found growing in shingly beaches along sheltered Irish coastlines. Much more common is the annual wild field poppy or corn poppy, Papaver rhoeas, whose vermilion blooms light up road verges and waste ground at this time of year. Each ephemeral flower lasts just three to four days, but then another quickly takes its place, resulting in a long-lasting display over several months. READ MORE For those who dislike red, consider the cultivated forms of this sun-loving, hardy annual, commonly known as the Shirley poppy, which are also available to gardeners, with both double and single flowers in soft shades of pink, apricot, white, peach and sooty purple. An enduring favourite is Papaver rhoeas 'Amazing Grey', famed for its silver-purple blooms. To enjoy it as a cut-flower indoors, simply sear the end of each stem with a lighter or candle or plunge the tips into boiling water for 7-10 seconds before quickly placing them in cold water. [ Slow Flower power is all about the local and the seasonal Opens in new window ] Easily raised from seed in autumn or early spring, the conventional advice is to direct-sow these into the ground where you want the plants to flower. But I've had much greater success with module-raised seedlings transplanted into the garden in very late spring and early summer. Just make sure to do this while they're still small. The annual/short-lived perennial poppy species commonly known as the Californian poppy, Eschscholzia californica, similarly loves a warm, sunny spot. But it usefully combines this with a remarkable ability to thrive in the poorest and stoniest of soils, making it a great choice for drought-prone gardens where it will also often self-seed. Typically known for its flame-orange flowers which appear throughout summer, many new varieties with blooms in shades of peach, pink, coral, cream, buttercup and apricot have been introduced in recent years and are easily raised from seed. Examples include the 'Thai Silk' series, especially 'Thai Silk Apricot Chiffon' with its luminously beautiful, deep apricot flowers. The Californian poppy, Eschscholzia californica, loves a warm, sunny spot By comparison, growing the outlandishly beautiful but famously capricious Icelandic poppy is a challenge for even seasoned gardeners. Best known as Papaver nudicaule, but recently renamed as Oreomecon nudicaulis, this late spring/early summer-flowering species loathes intense heat, preferring cool, bright conditions. Technically a perennial, it's best treated as a biennial raised from seed sowed in late spring and then planted out in autumn to flower the following year. Getting its tiny seeds to successfully germinate and then preventing them from damping-off can be fiendishly difficult, a challenge made more aggravating by the fact that seed of the most desirable strain – the Colibri poppy, originally bred for the cut-flower trade – is also mind-wateringly expensive. Icelandic poppy: Outlandishly beautiful but famously capricious But for those who succeed, the reward is giant poppy flowers in shades of peach, watermelon-pink, gold and brilliant orange, which emerge like tropical butterflies out of giant sculptural flower pods. Equally famous for its disdain of anything other than ideal growing conditions, the exquisite Himalayan poppy (Meconopsis baileyi; M 'Lingholm'; M 'Slieve Donard') is also that rarest of things in nature, which is blue-flowering. To grow it well – indeed, to grow it at all – you must give this summer-flowering perennial a cool, damp but free-draining, humus rich, neutral to slightly acid soil and edge-of-woodland growing conditions where its delicate blooms are protected from harsh winds and strong sunlight. For this reason, it's generally only found growing in parts of the country where rainfall levels are high and summers rarely get too hot. Himalayan blue poppy Only when it's entirely happy will it then self-seed, the caveat here being that you must grow a non-sterile variety for it to do so. Yet such is the glorious sight of it flowering en masse that many gardeners still go to extraordinary lengths to encourage this aristocratic poppy to establish. But nothing could be further from the case when it comes to the opium poppy, Papaver somniferum, a hardy, sun-loving annual species so promiscuous that once introduced, it's likely to self-seed itself about the place with happy abandon. It can even arrive unannounced, its tiny seeds hitching a lift in the soil of a potted plant or brought on the soles of muddy gardening boots. In my own garden, an unnamed variety with shocking-pink, double flowers did just this a few years ago, producing tall, large, violently colourful blooms so entirely out of place that it's as if a flock of noisy flamingos had descended without warning into the cool, damp green of an Irish landscape. Somehow, I just don't have the heart to pull the numerous seedlings out, excusing them on account of the large, long-lasting, ornamental seed-heads that eventually follow. But my favourite will always be the altogether subtler, plum-coloured Papaver 'Lauren's Grape'. Pink opium poppies Other abundantly self-seeding members of the poppy family eminently suitable for an Irish garden include the shade-loving Welsh poppy, Meconopsis cambricum, a late spring to early autumn flowering perennial species with an endearing way of insinuating itself into shady cracks in paving, steps and stone walls. A woodland plant at home in cool, damp, moderately rich but free-draining soils, the pretty flowers come in shades of orange, soft coral and bright yellow. Among the loveliest is the pale apricot-coloured Meconopsis cambricum var. aurantiacum. Also making the list is the oriental poppy, Papaver orientale, a herbaceous perennial species whose large, flouncy flowers are the stuff of cottage garden dreams. Its great failing, however, is the ugly gap left behind after this sun-loving border plant finishes flowering in early summer, a flaw best managed by cutting it back hard and then quickly following with a liquid feed. [ Natural liquid nettle feed is superb for keeping your plants healthy – it just smells terrible Opens in new window ] Last, but not least, is the Californian tree poppy, one of the few shrub-like members of the poppy family, with silver-grey foliage and giant, golden-eyed white flowers that appear on long, lax stems in late summer. This showstopper also has strong Irish connections, with its genus and species names celebrating two Irishmen, the botanist Thomas Coulter and the astronomer Thomas Romney Robinson. Flower of a California tree poppy, Romneya coulteri, whose genus and species names celebrate Irishmen Thomas Coulter and Thomas Romney Robinson Introduced into cultivation in the late 19th century, it first flowered in the National Botanic Gardens in Glasnevin in 1877. Typically requiring a sunny, sheltered spot and famously difficult to establish, it can unfortunately become too much of a good thing when it finally does, often sending out suckers that appear metres away from the parent plant. Still, such is its undeniable charm in full bloom that few gardeners can resist it. This week in the garden Deadhead, deadhead, deadhead … Heavy rain and hail showers in recent weeks have damaged the flowers of many plants. To encourage them to recover and start producing new blooms, use a sharp secateurs or snippers to cut them away, making sure not to accidentally remove any newly emerging flower buds. Mulch around the base of newly planted shrubs and trees to lock in moisture while soils are still wet after heavy rainfall. Suitable materials include fresh grass clippings, home-made compost, well-rotted garden manure and seaweed. Dates for dour diary Tullynally Castle & Gardens Plant Fair – Castlepollard, Co Westmeath. Saturday, June 21st. With stalls by many of the country's leading nurseries. Fruitlawn Garden Open Day – Abbeyleix, Co Laois. Sunday, June 22nd. With plant sales and refreshments. Delgany and District Horticultural Society Rose Show – St Patrick's National School, Greystones, Co Wicklow, Saturday, June 28th. All entries welcome, email by Thursday, June 25th.

Irish Times

6 hours ago

• Irish Times

How yellow rattle can inject new life into Ireland's green spaces

'Gliográn' means 'little rattler' – a clattery, tinkling thing – and it describes well the sound rippling across a field full of yellow rattle in late summer, around August, carried best on a dry day with a light breeze. The soft rattling noise comes from the dried seeds inside their papery bladder-like pods, which shake like tiny maracas. Years ago, a tinkling field told farmers it was time to make hay; they'd listen for the sound as their cue to take out the scythe and start cutting. Finding a large field full of yellow rattle isn't easy these days – it's often considered a weed , especially by farmers on high-yield grassland systems. But just last week I stood in a gently sloping Co Meath field filled with this yellow flower, with clover growing beneath, at the new 552-acre Brú na Bóinne National Park in Dowth, in the Boyne Valley. The park, which the State bought for €11 million in 2023, isn't yet open to the public (it will take a few more years). But the process of turning the high-nutrient grasslands into spaces for nature has already begun, led by the new park manager, Maurice Eakin. Dr Eakin has one goal: to bring life back to these lands. To begin the process, he sowed yellow rattle seeds in parts of the park last November. Often called 'the meadow maker' or 'nature's lawnmower', the yellow rattle is a handsome, striking plant with slender, toothed green leaves and sunlit yellow flowers shaped like snapdragon-style tubular bells clustered at the top of its stem. Above ground, the plant is all charm – a beautiful burst of yellow flowers swaying in the fields, as if butter wouldn't melt. Underground, though, it's quite the vampire and thief. As a seedling, yellow rattle sends out roots that latch on to those of neighbouring plants, especially grasses, and siphon off their water, minerals and nutrients. This parasitic habit weakens the grasses and slows their growth, and it's particularly effective against dominant grass species such as ryegrass. (This is why many farmers understandably dislike it since ryegrass is rich in energy and protein and is fed to livestock.) READ MORE By winning a war against dominant grasses, yellow rattle opens space for less competitive wildflowers to grow, such as oxeye daisy, buttercup, sweet vernal grass and common knapweed. The result is a diverse meadow with flowers that bloom at different times through the spring and summer, offering a steady supply of nectar and pollen for insects and somewhere to shelter and breed. As the wild plant conservation charity Plantlife says, yellow rattle is the 'single most important plant you need when creating a wildflower meadow'. Although it was cold and damp when I stood in the field with Dr Eakin, the hoverflies and bumblebees were out in numbers, landing on the yellow flowers in search of sweet nectar. As they moved from plant to plant, the bees brushed against the flowers' male parts and picked up dustings of fine, powdery pollen, each grain carrying the plant's sperm cells. When the bees visited the next flower, some of that pollen rubbed off on to the female part of the plant, fertilising it and allowing it to produce seeds. Just as the yellow rattle gets up to mischief beneath the soil, some bee species get up to tricks while feeding on its nectar. This sugar-rich liquid is buried deep inside the yellow flower, favouring long-tongued bees such as the garden bee, whose tongue can reach 20mm long. Shorter-tongued bees that arrive on the flower can't reach it, but that doesn't put them off. Instead of entering through the floral opening, they land on the side of the flower where the nectar collects, bite a small hole, and drink their fill. These 'nectar robbers' bypass the flower's reproductive parts, so while they get the sweet stuff, the plant gains nothing in return apart from a dose of its own medicine from one thief to another. [ Butterflies in free fall: 'It's really alarming because it shows that something significant is happening in the wider countryside' Opens in new window ] Dr Eakin says he is delighted with how the yellow rattle transforms the field from ryegrass-dominated grassland into a richer, more diverse meadow. His aim over the next few years is to restore life to this part of Meath, and his use of yellow rattle as a key tool in this process could inspire and guide urban park managers across Ireland. Injecting life into public green spaces – transitioning from mown grass to wildflower meadows – can help reverse insect decline and create healthier, more vibrant spaces for local communities. The impact of urban meadows can be significant. A study published last year by scientists at Warsaw University found that replacing regularly mowed lawns with wildflower meadows in cities leads to a high concentration of pollinating insects, making these urban meadows as valuable as natural meadows in rural areas. The outlook for pollinators in Ireland is bleak. Our butterflies are in free fall. Recent data from the National Biodiversity Data Centre reveals staggering, catastrophic declines in their populations between 2008 and 2021: the meadow brown down 86 per cent, the ringlet down 88 per cent, the green-veined white down 87.2 per cent. Like bumblebees, butterflies are homeless and starving, with little hope of recovery unless we urgently restore wildflowers to our landscape. [ Irish wildflowers: Growing your own mini-meadow isn't always easy but the results are magical Opens in new window ] In this battle, an gliográn – the yellow rattle – could be one of our most loyal and effective allies.

Irish Times

11 hours ago

• Irish Times

Memories of a summer solstice

Sir, – The more I'm extending into my pension years, the less enchanted I've become by the summer solstice, finding it difficult to comprehend why it arrives so early each year now! Be that as it may, there was one summer solstice I thought could never come quickly enough. Mid-summer's day 1969, a Saturday also, was to have heralded the end of the torturous Leaving Cert for me. However, due to Leaving Certificate papers having been 'stolen' from De La Salle School, Churchtown, on June 12th, 1969, I was among the many who had to traipse back to examination halls on Friday, June 27th, and Saturday, June 28th to sit a repeat of the English and Maths exams. Over the years since, the summer solstice has engaged me at times with notable ritual, as in the year I found myself inside the Arctic Circle, while occasionally scarcely registering at all but never without 1969 sending a shiver down my spine. – Yours, etc, READ MORE MICHAEL GANNON, Kilkenny.