Gardens
Gimme shelter
Ursula Buchan
Iwas, as they say, in denial. Although I had moments of rationality, generally I refused to believe the evidence of my own eyes. I did not have an 'exposed' garden, and there was an end to it. An exposed gar- den was one adjacent to the promenade at Bognor, or a thousand feet above sea level in the Breacon Beacons; not one at 150 feet in the gently rolling Northamptonshire countryside. When we were buying our house, we discovered that the village had a reputation locally for being 'very windy', but I was careful not to let exaggerated hearsay put me off. The blustery weather of the last few weeks has battered my conviction, quite as much as the autumn-flowering chrysanthe- mums. I have been forced to accept that an exposed garden is what I have and, with that, confront another uncomfortable truth: that it is very difficult to reconcile satisfactorily the need for shelter from the wind, with the equally pressing desire for a view.
You see, we have a view from the gar- den. Not a breathtaking view, but a com- fortable, charming, commonplace English view of grassy paddock/meadow, arable fields and farm hedges on gently rising ground, topped by a flourish of deciduous woodland. This pleasing prospect lies to the south and south-west of the garden. Although, in the winter, the wind can veer to the north or north-west and, in the early spring, to the east, the prevailing winds are south-westerly. So, in the months when we spend most time outside and have leisure to contemplate our surroundings, the wind comes mostly from the direction of those fields, hedges and woodland.
Shortly after we moved to the house, five years ago, I planted a number of trees close to our boundary, in the hope of encourag- ing wildlife and, in the long term, some shelter from the stormy blast. But my reluc- tance to plant the most efficient shelter- belt, that is one composed of fast-growing, exotic, evergreen conifers, so close to open countryside, together with my desire not to block the view entirely, meant that I entrusted the task to good old native oaks, ash birches and wild cherries. Even hollies were excluded, by reason of their dislike of our clay soil, so there was not an evergreen among them. I persuaded myself that, in winter, we would have the view and in sum- mer some protection from the south-west- erlies. Some hope.
The boundary is more than 100 yards from the house. Trees can diminish wind speed only up to a distance of ten times their height. Trees on, or near, the bound- ary will have to be at least 30-ft high to diminish at all the force of the wind near the house. This year, next year, sometime, never?
Eventually I had to admit that, in order to grow the widest possible range of plants in the garden proper, I would need to plant hedges as well to protect them. I put in two ranks, separated by lawn, to form an outer and inner stockade. The outer hedge is of hornbeam, which, if trimmed in July, retains at least some of its dead, brown leaves in winter. The inner one is of yew. One day, this double defence should ensure that the garden nearest the house remains calm when the fiercest winds are howling round the outer reaches.
To do this effectively, however, means threatening the integrity of the view. The only way round this is to vary the height at which they are cut, in such a way as to frame the best part, or parts of the land- scape. Indeed, this may even enhance the view, as a picture frame can enhance a landscape painting. There will also have to be some judicious thinning of the boundary trees in years to come, to preserve the view without creating a wind tunnel.
Despite these flashes of forethought and lucidity, my previous denial that our garden is windy has prevented me from staking every tree sufficiently. The modern received wisdom is that, except in 'exposed positions', trees make sturdier root systems and tapered stems, and are less likely to blow over in a gale, if they are left unsup- ported, or with only short, and short-term, stakes.
Following this tenet has worked well for the young 'whips', but has been disastrous for some fruit trees, put in as 6-ft high half- standards, in the grass paddock beyond the hedges. Without stakes, they have the greatest difficulty staying properly upright and, without protection, they are becoming stunted and reluctant to bear good fruit. The trouble is that taking the decision to stake them heavily, and plant evergreen shelter to windward, will expose me to the icy blast of realism, and I don't relish the thought of that one bit.
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