I am still haunted by the vision of a white hydrangea, its blowsy flowers tumbling over the edge of a huge stone urn, set at the end of an avenue of pleached lime. As I have no room in my tiny garden for a hydrangea of that size, let alone an avenue of pleached lime, it remains a lovely memory.
But for years after seeing it, I planted all my pots with singular plants, a mass of deep velvet red geraniums, marguerite daisies studded with white stars or a group of deep purple heliotrope, with their warm, voluptuous scent (hence their common name of ‘cherry pie’.)
I am still rather addicted to a pot of heliotropes set by the back door, greeting me with their fragrance. And I love pots of scented leaf geraniums – rose attar being a favourite – to add to that scent as you brush by. Recently, too, I couldn’t resist filling a large terracotta trough with a simple display of deep purple gerberas, their daisy faces opening and closing with the sun, which I think will look handsome among pots of blue agapanthus.
But I have become less purist (you might even say garish) of late with planting up pots and containers.
As my garden is small and there are three terraces to fill – a terrace empty of plants seeming to me a sad and lonely place – I have to garden mainly using pots. So I have begun to experiment, filling them with all manner of plants to mimic the atmosphere of a verdant paradise.
It is now safe – and the weather clement enough – to start planting outdoor containers, so I have been spending many happy hours at the garden centre, deciding on different combinations for my pots. I feel like a kid in a sweet shop.
But, rather like a child who can’t make up their mind between candy canes and sherbet fountains, I am constantly putting plants in my basket, only to put them back on the shelf when I see something yet more delicious, or decide that the pink of a geranium doesn’t quite fit with the cerise stripe in a petunia.
In that situation, I have found that it’s best, if possible, to choose plants that are beginning to come into flower, simply because the colour on plant labels doesn’t come true to type. I managed to create a true horror last year by twinning deep red geraniums with clashing, brick-red diascia because I bought them sight unseen.
For me, half the fun of containers is deciding on scent and colour combinations, but these days most garden centres offer excellent collections of themed plants for containers. If you feel overwhelmed by choice, it is a happy option.
The only proviso for container gardening is that pots require constant watering, feeding and deadheading to keep them looking at their best. Even the heaviest rainfall will only dampen the top of the soil, so best to rely on watering cans rather than Mother Nature.
