After last year’s drought and the almost total lack of blossom or fruit from the orchard (3 medlars, 3 damsons total), it’s delightful to see plenty of flowers and fruit setting. First off, the new plum and damsons all seem to have fruit set, though the Shropshire Prune damson is looking more prolific than the Fairleigh damson.
Plum tree (Rivers Early Prolific)Wee fruit on the plum tree, maybe 2mm acrossDamson tree (Shropshire prune)Even smaller fruit on the Shropshire prune, but definitely set
We didn’t photograph the old plum tree or the Fairleigh damson, but both have had some flowers and look like setting some fruit.
The cherry tree was planted by the previous owners and bore a label saying it was bought at Morrisons. It’s never done very well as the ground is too damp and there’s not enough light, but it’s survived so gets to stay and do its thing.
Cherry tree, planted by the previous ownersCherry blossom
Our medlar looks lively and has flower buds.
Medlar (Nottingham)Medlar flower bud, honest
Likewise the quince:
Quince tree (Portugal)Quince buds
Moving on to the pears, both look to have set plenty of fruit, the Louise Bonne of Jersey more, but given I don’t remember the Uvedale’s St Germain flowering at all before, I’m happy enough.
Pear tree (Louise Bonne of Jersey)Pear fruit (Louis Bonne)Pear tree (Uvedale’s St Germain)Pear fruit (Uvedale’s St Germain) – fewer but larger!
Despite the plague currently scouring the land (remember it’s 2020 in modern time), we managed to hold an Easter convocation at Rumwoldstow. Perhaps it was a little lacking in diversity, but we tried to make up for it in enthusiasm!
The nuns worked hard in the gardenThe monks prayed for all our soulsAll gathered together to give thanksBrother Alf pops up unexpectedly!
Wassail and Easter joy to all, despite the dark times. Let us be kind to each other as Jesus Christ teaches.
It is the 11th day of April, 920 AD, and the trees in the orchard are doing well. They have been in the ground almost two years now, having been planted in May of 918, and have survived two years of drought and an attack by cows (after which we built the protective cages). The fruit harvest of 919 comprised six damsons and three medlars – we hope for better this year after a very wet winter and some good spring sunshine.
The two pear trees are both in flower. The Uvedale is a Warden pear and I haven’t seen it flower before, so to see clusters of white blossom is very exciting, and it’s great to see that the two pear trees are in bloom together so the Louise Bonne should be able to pollinate the Uvedale as intended. What is a Warden pear like you ask? Well I don’t really know either but I hope to find out this year.
Pear Uvedale’s St Germain (left) and Louise Bonne of Jersey (right) flowering
The two new apple trees are in bud. The Hambeldon Deux Ans was brutally munched by cows in 918 and has been splinted up, and is growing! I hope that this year it will grow taller than its protector again. It has one visible cluster of blossom, which is one more than last year.
The Wyken Pippin is in good shape and looks like it’ll have a fair amount of blossom.
The old apple tree that was here already, is a much better shape now that it’s been pruned back for a couple of years – it had one long branch like a bridge trying to escape the leilandii (now wonderfully truncated) and reach the light.
Apple Wyken PippinApple Hambledon Deux AnsOld apple tree, unidentified
The damsons and plums have all flowered well and are nearly over, with what I hope are proto-fruits forming. The old, established plum tree is looking a bit better than last year – it gave a bumper harvest in 918 but was almost defunct in 919 with no fruit at all.
Damson FairleighDamson Shropshire Prune and plum Rivers Early Prolific
The quince and medlar have plenty of leaves but no flowers – I hope they’ll get round to it later!
Medlar NottinghamQuince Portugal
Last but not least is the white poplar we put in down where the land floods, to add back some height and because it’s a lovely native tree. It’s budding well.
Lots of this blue wildflower – but what is it?
I walked over the meadow which after 6 months of being half a metre underwater as often as not, is still thin on grass, covered in silt and smells like the Essex coast. But I saw one cuckoo flower plant!
Cherwell flood plain, drying out at lastA long cuckoo flower
Today being the 9th of April it is the feast day of St Materiana, or Madryn. Materiana was a princess of the 5th century, the eldest of three daughters of King Vortimer the Blessed, who, after her father’s death, ruled over Gwent with her husband Prince Ynyr.
We did receive this day a message from our blessed sister Wynflaed, who sent us a gift of borage seeds. We are most grateful as this plant does not grow in the countryside, and it can be used to great good effect to benefit both spirit and body.
A gift of borage seeds
Yesterday we received a collection of iris Germanica corms via courier, which will add greatly to the beauty of the Rumwoldstow garden.
Iris Germanica planted up
I did also move some plants from less clement areas of the gardens, into better situations. There is now a wild garlic plant in the shady quadrant of the formal garden, and I have moved a skirret plant grown from seed last year, into the bed dug by Brother Julian. Despite my care, a piece of root broke off and so brother Alf and I ate it as the first harvest! The flavour is pleasant, somewhat resembling carrot or parsnip but with a slight tang of its own.
Last year’s skirret, about to be replanted, showing edible rootsWild garlicSkirret replanted!Skirret root straight from the groundSkirret root after a rinse in waterSkirret root after scrubbing with a toothbrush
Planting of the monastery garden continues with a delivery of plants from the National Herb Centre, and a few which were transplanted from my main garden. On this day the third of April 920 AD, Cyneswithe rejoices and contemplates the life of Saint Mary of Egypt, whose life is celebrated on the first of April. Mary lives a most stimulating life. After years of debauchery she repented of her evil ways and was eventually buried with the aid of a passing lion.
Part shade ========== Petroselinum crispum “french” (parsley) Fragaria vesca (Alpine strawberry) Rumex acetosa (broad leaved sorrel) Viola mixed Inula helenium (Elecampane) tall, sun or part shade Viola tricolor (heartsease) Pot marigold, sun or part shade Primula vulgaris
I have left gaps for the iris germanica and madonna lilies that are on order. I need some large shade-tolerant plant for the last big empty space – not sure what that would be yet, there are various plants I can’t source just now but I’m not sure which are shady.
I will infill with other plants as the season goes on, but it’s a good start! Rumwaldstow is going green!
It is the 27th of March and the monastery garden is finally ready for planting, after a winter of unprecedented rain – the Cherwell meadow has been flooded on and off since October last year!
Brother Julian has worked tirelessly to repair Green Street, the lane that runs north from the monastery gate. The wall is his work also, and he almost single-handedly cleared the site for the monastery garden.
Brother Alf and Sister Cyneswith have overseen the building of the garden beds inside the old Roman fort and on this day the feast of St Rupert1, we planted the garden’s first plant, a fennel plant.2
Bishop Godfrid sent a message to Sister Cyneswithe commending Rumwaldstow for our work towards the glory of the church.
Continuing to describe Rumwoldstow as we first took possession, in 2016 (or 916 AD if you are following the history of Rumwoldstow), let me show you some pictures of what is now the young orchard. This is a squareish bit of land to the north of the walled garden which had been planted with a mix of native trees but had been gradually overshadowed by a very tall leilandii hedge to the south, willow to the west and a mixed hedge to the right. The north side had been devastated by the council as part of a plan to build a flood defence along that line, which never actually happened (lots of local politics there!). So we were left with this dark site, partly occupied by a very large willow and a huge sycamore, all the remaining trees leaning desperately northwards trying to get to the light, and then a barren area covered in piles of woodchip. Plus a mound of burned wreckage where the previous owner had burned a lot of inappropriate possessions in what seemed to be a fit of pique – including mattresses, electrical items, entire filing cabinets, cupboards full of clothes…
So here are a bunch of photos to give an idea of how it looked then! First, not quite a 360 degree panorama but this view from the north west shows the mix of blasted heath and deep shadow that we started with. The brook separates the orchard site from Lake Meadow which runs down to the Cherwell (if you ignore the railway line).
Looking south to the north wall of the gardenRubbly jubbly!looking west during the February 2017 flooding, you can see the pile of burned goods and the water creeping into the area. And how dark it is!
Back in 2016, Rumwoldstow was not even an idea. What we had was a walled garden built inside the shell of a breezeblock barn, and to the north a roughly square patch of land overshadowed on three sides by leilandii, willow and rampant hedge. The garden had a certain dishevelled charm but there was nowhere you could sit or grow fruit or other plants, and there was an awful lot of caryx grass and ivy. And to the south were two very large self-seeded sycamore trees, which shaded much of the garden for most of the day.
Above is a panorama of the walled garden as we first encountered it, back in August 2016 (916 AD in the history of Rumwoldstow). This would be just prior to the refounding of the monastery.
Looking north up the garden pathRockery to the westAnd the rockery again, this time looking south to the dilapidated outbuildingThe outbuilding had seen better days!…and had an open section at the end full of old junk
I think the original design must have been a Japanese-inspired garden with rockeries, but it was all so overgrown that the effect was lost. The outbuilding was leaky and had weird alcoves and internal fittings left over from some previous incarnation, perhaps dairy-related, when this was a working farm and the outbuilding was a lean-to on the side of a barn. Lots of agricultural heritage!
