We know King Charles talks to his plants.
We don’t know whether Prince William does too. Whether he talks to them about Aston Villa.
Or, less important matters.
I talk to my garden a lot. I speak pretty bluntly to weeds. I call them all kinds of names that aren’t at all botanical. I tell dandelions what I think of them and, similarly, I don’t hold back on daisies, hurling obscenities at them as soon as they appear. Clover, plantains, creeping buttercup and docks regularly feel the rough end of my tongue. I can be quite cutting toward cow parsley and really nasty to bindweed too.
I can’t stand the sight of ground elder. And my foul language towards it expresses that.
But I do have a gentler, more benevolent, caring St Francis of Assisi side and express my love and gratitude to the beauty an abundance of the nature that surrounds me. Including cleavers, otherwise called nothing worse than sticky willies and goosegrass.
I give support to plants that need it, praising every plant -which is not a weed- who may be thinking that their existence goes unnoticed. Any plant that may feel neglected and under-appreciated.
Every weigela in the world likes to hear someone say, “ My word! Look at that weigela ! Isn’t it magnificent!”
Every “ Bristol Ruby” wants to be told “You’re stunning!”
Every mallow : “You’re eye poppingly gorgeous!”
No wisteria dislikes fulsome praise and is boosted by being told as I do my “Amethyst Falls” and “Caroline” : “ Few plants rival the beauty of a wisteria in full bloom, with its glorious cascades of fragrant lavender, blue, or white flowers. Your beauty, my dear, may be fleeting but your annual show and heady perfume is never taken for granted. You light up my May and June. You are a highlight of early summer.”
All passion flowers like to be told they are “stars”. Name-calling can be good for a plant. Every plant likes to be appreciated.
Sweet peas thrive on attention and compliments. While watering mine, I say things like : “ Haven’t you guys bushed out nicely!”
Standing in front of my passion flower before it has even started showing signs of blooming, I make a point of making sure it knows how fond I am of it.
“Constance Elliot, you really are a handsome specimen.I never won’t you to start thinking that I don’t appreciate the way you attract butterflies and other pollinators. I love you for the way you thrive in full sun yet can tolerate partial shade. I adore each and every one of your delicate tendrils, every bit of your foliage and your staggeringly colourful coronal filaments. You make that pergola sing! And you and the evergreen Solanum laxum Album potato vine work so well together with its consistent colour and clusters of yellow and white summer bloom. We will be together til first frost do us part.”
Caring for older plants is as important as help young plants establish themselves in your border. I make sure my penstemons get the attention they crave and deserve. That they know I never stop thinking about them.
“I don’t want you going all leggy and woody and letting yourself down, I know the recent weather has been a struggle for you and you have got spindly which has made you look sad and upset but it’s Happy Pill time!
Here’s some slow-release granular compost – Nature’s Prozac. With some comfrey liquid feed. Natures natural anti-depressant!”
Just like people and pets, plants suffer abandonment anxiety. They are needy things and need TLC- the fluoxetine of flowers. They need to be told you love them and will never stop caring for them :
“ Look, I know you aren’t just here to entertain and please me. That you have a life of your own. But I can tell by your body language that things aren’t great. I’ve noticed some behavioural issues so, for your own sake. I am upping your dosage of Growmore medication to take the edge of things. I know you will like it.”
Careful training will help plant health. I walk down my taut line of horizontal wire held by vine years and inspect my fruit,. I tour my wood trellises scattering praise and encouragement. Such as “Well pleached”. I tell my compost box to keep up the good work.
I have regular pep talks with my penstemons. “ Apple Blossom, you are valued member of this garden community. You know that don’t you?”
I tell my White Bedder and Plum Jerkhum: “ Believe me, I shall never mistake you for a baby foxglove. Ever! It’s wrong for you to think I prefer crocosima to you. As a token of how much I dote on you, here’s some horticultural grit.”
I avow my love of Catherine de la Mare with “ Please forgive me for not planting you deeper, thereby exposing you to windrock and all that post-traumatic disorder. You will always be penstemon to me. Never beardtongue!
To my Garnet : “You are dear to me. Your welfare is my priority. You happiness is my sole aspiration.”
To my Hidcote Pink I whisper : “ You are the only sub-shrub in my life and the one true love of this border. I only have eyes for your simple , narrow leaves and racemes or panicles of cute bell and funnel-shaped flowers.”
If you are a penstemon lover like me : Tell “Laura ” you love her. And love propagating her.
And don’t forget your garden shed. And all its does. Address everything inside – your hoe, spade , fork, mower and wheelbarrow and say simply but with meaning ; “Thank you for being you.”
And then, looking at your new long-handled, stainless-steel serrated claw Fiskar XACT weed and root puller which is a boon to someone who has trouble weeding as well as kneeling or bending. “ I love you!”
You have to talk to your plants.
It’s saner than talking to yourself.