Bay (Laurus nobilis)

Dear Readers, I feel a bit of an idiot concerning this plant. When I spotted it in East Finchley Cemetery yesterday, I suspected that it was Mediterranean because of those grey-green, waxy leaves, but as I had never seen a bay tree in flower before, I thought I’d found something much rarer and more exotic. However, seeing that fluffy yellow blossom has given me a whole new perspective on a plant that I’d previously thought of as small, clipped and well-behaved. This beautiful tree was at least thirty feet tall, elegant and abundant. It just goes to show what a plant that is normally seen in a terracotta pot can do when it’s liberated.

Bay in a pot (Photo One)

I was right about the plant’s Mediterranean origins though – there used to be Laurel forests which covered most of the area. Before the drying out of the area during the Pliocene era (between 5 and 2.5 million years ago), evergreen forests flourished in the high humidity and constant temperatures. Today, there are only a few relict areas of laurel forest in places such as Madeira, the Canary Islands and the wetter areas of Spain. However, the inheritance of these damp, rainy places can be seen in the shape of the leaf of the bay tree – it has a sharp, pointed tip, and a waxy surface, enabling the rain to trickle down and drip off rather than accumulating on the leaf. The wax acts to prevent the leaves from drying out in the much hotter, drier climate of the Mediterranean basin today, too.

Laurel Forest in Tenerife (Photo Two)

Laurel Forest in La Gomera (One of the Canary Islands) (Photo Three)

When anyone mentions bay, though, thoughts turn to stews (or mine do, anyway). My Mum always tucked a random dried bay leaf into a beef stew, though not a chicken casserole. The leaves that we had seemed to serve no purpose at all other than being something of a surprise when they were accidentally eaten at dinner time, but I have been experimenting with using more bay, in different dishes, and I’ve finally come to the conclusion that the dried leaves can add a subtle but delicious background flavour in conjunction with ingredients such as garlic, thyme and rosemary. It appears that the fresh leaves have rather too much of the menthol and eucalyptus flavour that comes from the essential oils, so bay is one of the few herbs that most chefs prefer to use dried. I have also used it in rice pudding, and rather liked it, plus it’s one of those herbs that is regularly thrown into pickling mixtures. Let me know how you use it, readers! I am always keen to learn.

Beef casserole with bay leaf(Photo Four)

The essential oils in bay leaves probably developed to dissuade insects from nibbling them (as is the case with other herbs such as rosemary, thyme and lavender). Interestingly, some entomologists used crushed bay leaves in their killing jars; the insects subjected to the fumes die slowly and peacefully, making them easier to mount. Not that Bugwoman approves, obviously. The leaves can also be used to repel clothes moths, silverfish, mice and many other small unwelcome visitors (though not children 🙂 )

Bay has a very long cultural history too. In Ancient Greece, bay leaves were used to make the laurel wreath that adorned the foreheads of competition winners and poets, and in Rome it became the symbol of emperors. Originally it represented the god Apollo, and his priestess was said to chew laurel leaves before giving her prophecies. The laurel is deeply embedded in our language even today – we have a poet laureate (i.e. a poet who wears the laurel wreath), and we speak of someone ‘resting on their laurels’ or suggest that they should ‘look to their laurels’ in the face of new competition. The name of the French examination the Baccalaureate comes from the same root.

Ovid wearing a laurel wreath (Photo Five)

The Romans also believed that bay trees were immune to lightning, and so the Emperor Tiberius always wore a laurel wreath when there was stormy weather. As with so many things, there is an element of truth here – bay is very resistant to fire, but when it does burn it does so with a loud crackling noise, leading the Romans to believe that the tree was inhabited by a fire demon who protected it. Pliny the Elder advised against burning bay on altars, for example, because the noise that it emitted sounded as if it was angrily protesting. Apparently the devil is rendered helpless by bay, so wearing a laurel wreath might be a useful precaution during most every day activities, if you don’t mind the funny looks.

Medicinally, bay has been used as a preventative during epidemics, and for rheumatism. The berries of the bay tree were believed by Culpeper to be efficacious against all kinds of bites from venomous creatures. A tincture of bay was used for ear drops, and bay oil was used for sprains (something very useful for those of us who are inclined to trip over stray microbes or infinitesimally small imperfections in a paving slab).

Lauris nobilis essential oil (Photo Six)

Incidentally, the bay tree is not closely related to the similar-looking cherry laurel, which seems to have taken over half the country. This is an important distinction because while you can obviously eat the leaves of the bay tree, those of the cherry laurel are packed full of cyanide. You have been warned.

Leaves of the cherry laurel (Prunus laurocerasus) (Photo Seven)

And finally, a poem. I rather love this, because it’s about a pigeon, and a bay tree, and lots else besides.

Photo Credits

Photo One By Petar43 – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=33242606

Photo Two  By Inkaroad – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=16991162

Photo Three  By PicsART05 – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=48893760

Photo Four from https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/377950593703120990/

Photo Five By Auréola – Own work, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=7654436

Photo Six by By Itineranttrader – Own work, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5781348

Photo Seven by Karduelis – Original image, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=470021

Marsh Marigold

Dear Readers, by the time you read this I will be on holiday (in the sense of ‘not working’ rather than ‘ going off somewhere exciting’) so there is the usual palaver around making sure nothing will blow up in my absence. Being a recovering perfectionist is a hard road to travel – I have to accept that a) I’m not irreplaceable and b) the organisation can get along very well without my presence. However, I do love to leave things in a tidy condition, and so for my blog post today I have spent a whole fifteen minutes in the garden before getting back to the grind.

I wouldn’t even have done this if a huge cardboard box containing 3 water irises hadn’t turned up – they were already potted up and ready to be dropped into the pond, so it seemed like the least I could do for the poor things. Can I just put in a plug here for Puddleplants if you are in the UK and want some pond or bog garden plants? I have been so impressed by the standard of the plants that they provide, and if they aren’t happy with the quality of anything they will let you know and ask if you want a refund or a different plant. Their customer service really is second to none.

Anyway, today’s delivery was of three Iris x robusta ‘Gerald Darby’, and if they thrive they should look like this:

Iris x robusta Gerald Darby (Photo One)

…though at the moment they look like this:

And yes, the water level in the pond is down yet again. We’ve had no rain for weeks. I am growing creeping/dangling plants along the pond edge and may gradually remove some of the stones to get a more natural look, but in the meantime I’m looking to the skies.

Everything seems to be taking off. The water mint is extending its little invasive fingers and will no doubt be planning to take over the pond shortly.

Water mint (Mentha aquatica)

The water figwort plants look extremely happy.

Water figwort (Scrophularia auriculata)

The yellow flag iris are shooting upwards. I love its butter-yellow flowers though it can be a bit of a thug. This one will need dividing for next year.

Yellow flag (Iris pseudacorus)

The leaves of the first water lily have broken the surface, though whether that’s because the leaves have grown up or the water level has gone down I shall leave for you to judge….

The yellow loosestrife (Lysimachia vulgaris) has just broken the surface of the water. One of the pots slid off the ‘shelf’ around the edge of the pond and has upturned and disappeared into the depths. I shall try to retrieve it soon – my planting guide suggests that it should be under no more than 10 cm of water, and it must be in about 70 cm so that isn’t going to work. The other three are wedged in, so should be safe!

And finally the purple loosestrife is springing forth. Every year it gets so big that it ends up toppling over, and every year I think to myself that I should try to prevent this from happening. Sadly, ‘think’ is all I seem to do, being a bit short of inspiration. Maybe another case of dividing and putting into a heavier pot?

Away from the pond, there has been some cat-on-bird action – I ‘discouraged’ one slinky black and white marauder who was hiding under the bushes but he or she might have been back. Fortunately there are usually so many birds in the garden that someone sounds the alarm. Plus, fortunately, the feathers of woodpigeons are very loosely attached, so all a predator often gets is a mouthful of fluff.

I rather liked these grape hyacinths, but the bees don’t, much preferring the dark blue ones. Still, you live and learn.

The forget-me-nots that my friend J gave me are out…

And so are these wallflowers. I bought them thinking they would be cream and mauve, and instead I have one yellow one and two red ones, which rather mucks up my colour scheme. Never mind. Also, what’s with the leaves going brown around the edges? All advice gratefully received. I’ve been watering them religiously (or rather my husband has).

The ferns are looking good too! I have a couple more that have been in a pot for ages so I’m planning to liberate them this year.

And look, here is my one English bluebell (it’s a darker blue than it looks here, and the flowers do flop endearingly to one side so I’m fairly confident that it is Hyacinthoides non-scripta, as purchased). And yes, there are some stinging nettles next to it which will most likely be coming out when I have something to plant in its place.

And finally, I have planted up some honesty seeds (also given to me by my friend J) and have taken delivery of three woodruff plants (Gallium odorata), all of which will be popped into the shady side of the garden.

Woodruff and honesty seeds….

And finally, how about this red valerian that’s planted itself next to. the water butt? Whenever I see this plant it makes me think of Dorset and my time with Mum and Dad – the Red valerian there used to self-seed in every crook and cranny, and there were white and pink forms too. I don’t have the heart to pull it up.

Red valerian

And so, it’s back to work to tidy up a few more things. I hope to be having a few more exciting trips over the next few weeks – there are wetlands to visit locally, (Walthamstow and Woodberry), parks to walk in, and all sorts of places to explore. But I hope to be spending lots of time sitting in the garden too. After all, the lilac is almost in flower.

Lilac buds….

Photo Credits

Photo One from https://www.bethchatto.co.uk/conditions/plants-for-damp-conditions/iris-x-robusta-gerald-derby.htm

Crown Imperials (Fritillaria imperialis)

Well Readers, there are some plants that are not meant to be ignored, and crown imperials are right up there at the head of the group. Look at those extraordinary blooms! The plant looks as if it’s wearing a spiky hat for a start, and then there are those Dundee United coloured flowers. Who would ever guess that the plant is a close relative of the delicate little snakeshead fritillaries in my garden?

Snakeshead fritillaries (Fritillaria meleagris)

Another puzzle for me is the location where I found the crown imperials – right next to a pond in Golders Hill Park. The Royal Horticultural Society website says that the plant doesn’t like damp or heavy clay soil, requires full sun, and the bulb is prone to rotting, so this not an ideal site. Apparently the plant might flower like a good ‘un in its first year, but will then have an attack of the vapours and refuse to produce anything interesting for the rest of its life. Let’s hope that plans are afoot to look after these lovelies once they’ve flowered.

Crown imperials (Fritillaria imperialis)

The plant comes originally from a broad swathe of land, starting with the  Anatolian plateau in the west and ending up in the foothills of the Himalayas.However, it has apparently naturalised itself in Austria, Sicily, and Washington state in the US. I found it difficult to imagine this flower growing in the wild so here’s a lovely panoramic shot of wild crown imperial in Fars, Iran.

Wild Crown Imperial in Fars, Iran (Photo Two)

And here is another shot of wild crown imperials in Kurdistan. Goodness how I miss travelling….

Crown imperials in Kurdistan (Photo Three)

The flowers, which can be red, orange or yellow, apparently have a strongly foxy odour, which deters mice and other creatures who might otherwise eat the bulbs and flowers.

But here’s a thing! Apparently the flowers are pollinated by blue tits, a most unusual thing in the northern hemisphere where we don’t have hummingbirds or sunbirds to rely on. This was apparently featured in this week’s ‘Gardener’s World’ for those of you in the UK. For a more science-y view, here’s an article from New Scientist which explains that crown imperials produce a special kind of nectar, containing sucrose, which is specifically adapted to birds. Blue tits are the only birds who are light enough, and dextrous enough, to access the flowers without doing them any damage, though other species do destroy the flower to get at the sweet stuff.

Photo of blue tit under crown imperial by Mark Williams (Photo One)

Apparently, the nectar is so copious that it trickles out of the flower if you give it a tap, and therein hides a legend. Apparently, the crown imperial was once pure white, but when Jesus passed by in the Garden of Gethsemene it refused to bow its head like all the other plants. When Jesus reprimanded the plant, it blushed in shame and cried, hence the colour of the flowers and the ‘tears’.

I must say that I am becoming fascinated with the fritillary genus. While the crown imperial doesn’t particularly appeal to me, some of the others certainly do. How about Fritillaria persica, the Persian Lily,  which comes in black or white?

Fritillaria persica (Photo Four)

Or Fritillaria acmopelata, the Anatolian fritillary?

Fritillaria acmopetala, the Anatolian Fritillary (Photo Five)

It’s always useful to remember that all these plants are members of the Lily family, however, and to keep an eye open for those bright maraunders, the lily beetles, adorable-looking as they are.

Scarlet lily beetles (Lilioceris lilii) (Photo Six)

To get back to the crown imperial, however: its bulb is poisonous, but apparently can be eaten when cooked. I suspect you’d be much better off with an onion, and that would be cheaper, too.

And finally, a rather enigmatic poem. What do you think, Readers?

Otherwise Known

by Diana Brodie

My room feels crowded, stuffy,
and I open windows wide.
The tallest officer stands close
as he stares out at my garden.
He asks the names of flowers
and trees: Sophora, walnut,
sweet chestnut. He points
to the flame-coloured flowers
pressed against the wall –
Fritillaria imperialis, I reply,
otherwise known as crown imperials.

It seems someone has died, alone,
whose name I have never heard.
And in another continent.
I do not know, I say.
No relative of mine.
I hope you trace his family,
he had a sister, did you say?
They thank me for my time, drive off.

Left on my own, I know. I know.
I pick up the phone, call them,
tell them that I know. I know.

Photo Credits

Photo One by Mark Williams from romhttps://kensingtongardensandhydeparkbirds.blogspot.com/2020/08/it-was-another-hot-day-but-spell-is.html

Photo Two By Sahehco – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=26320080

Photo Three by By Khezriyani – Own work, CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=40594934

Photo Four by Hari Krishnan, CC BY-SA 4.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0>, via Wikimedia Commons

Photo Five by Zeynel Cebeci, CC BY-SA 4.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0>, via Wikimedia Commons

Photo Six by Charles J. Sharp, CC BY-SA 3.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0>, via Wikimedia Commons