A spectacle of winter

from The Oxford Times

I have never been a fan of putting the whole garden to bed with an all-over tidy, zealously chopping back and raking off all the vegetation. When I see gardens razed to the ground in this way, it seems like ripping up the carpet and exposing the bare boards - not an attractive sight.

Instead I prefer to leave some seedheads intact - those that are stiff-stemmed enough to stand erect until the New Year. They may look khaki and brown on grey winter days but when frost falls and winter sun slants through, the effects can be magical.

Perhaps the most enduring seedhead of all belongs to the noble acanthus, a plant with divine foliage. So divine that both Greek and Roman stonemasons chiselled out their jagged leaves on the bases of stone pillars and plinths. The spikes of hooded flowers appear in midsummer and my preferred form, Acanthus spinosus, has white flowers with dark, almost-purple bracts and crinkled dark-green foliage. It is the most prolific of acanthus when it comes to flower power and a good clump should send up five impressive spikes. These can reach almost 4ft and they make a statuesque feature.

The dense acanthus spires have a long garden life, but they are at their most beguiling as they begin to decay, revealing a shiny brown, acorn-like seedpod set between the skeletal remains of spiny bracts. There is no fear of seed germinating from these pods. Well they have always been completely empty in my Oxfordshire gardens.

In its native Mediterranean setting, acanthus seeds explode out of the capsules on hot days, hitting you as walk through sun-baked scrub.

I am also looking forward to the lacy heads of Hydrangea arborescens Annabelle'. This clean white hydrangea has large flat heads of flower and these fade to a jade colour in autumn before being reduced to a head of radiating stems.

It provides one of the best winter spectacles and this hydrangea will grow happily, even in the drier parts of Oxfordshire. Annabelle' will grow in some shade too and this hydrangea flowers on old wood.

In spring new growth appears along the stems and I cut back to the first viable bud in March or April.

If you have a sunnier place, the sturdy heads of phlomis will last all winter and their many-chambered seedheads shelter ladybirds, spiders and flies. There are shrubby forms that keep a presence in winter and others that die away underground, leaving their stiff stems behind.

The best of the deciduous types is Phlomis Edward Bowles', a spreading plant with two-tone yellow flowers and large sage-green leaves. This sun-loving plant will smother a large area and in winter each stem has several whorled heads set at different heights. Phlomis tuberosa Amazone' has slender wands of pink flowers and needs to be woven through late-summer herbaceous or grasses to make an impact.

So when you start to wield your secateurs in the autumn tidy up, don't be too hasty or too thorough. Try to keep some of your stiffest stems intact. You'll be sheltering insect life, possibly feeding the birds and leaving a framework that could delight you.