Gardening in an Exposed Garden - What I Wish I'd Known

In my previous garden I was spoilt. Although it was on a hill it had been terraced with beds full of established plants, and at the bottom was a small courtyard that was the ultimate sun trap, easily mirroring something you'd see in the Mediterranean. I enjoyed tending to the previous owners plants and filled the courtyard with pots of my own favourite summer-flowering perennials.

On moving to our new site we brought all these pots with us; salvia, fuchia and campanula to name a few and in the chaos of moving house I made the error of leaving them outdoors, when there was a perfectly good greenhouse in the garden! It was something that had never crossed my mind but after waking up to heavy snowfall on our first morning, a number of these favourite plants were killed. The first sign that I was going to have to put in a bit more thought than I was used to when gardening here.

The Importance of Shelter

This garden is positioned on top of a hill, sloping upwards from west to east and strong winter winds whip across the top. Throughout the first year I spent time working out where the sunniest parts were, where the shadiest parts were and where had the most shelter. The plot began as a fairly blank canvas with only a couple of shrubs and the remnants of a couple of old beds that had very little growing in them, so overall it felt very open and exposed. However, I wanted to grow shelter rather than build it.

Struggling with my old square spade in the heavy clay soil...

The first plan of action was to introduce some tree cover, both to provide shelter for us but also to bring birds into the garden. One edge of the garden is bordered by a lovely native hedgerow which is always full of birds but they need tree cover in the garden if they're going to come any nearer. The first plant bought for the garden was a lovely multi-stem cherry tree with peeling red bark to provide some winter interest. It was planted in the most exposed part of the garden and when I begun to dig the hole I discovered the heavy clay soil, full of rocks, stones and the odd broken brick. On unworked ground there's around 6 inches of soil and then solid clay below, I'm sure you could make pots out of the stuff if you really wanted to!

One of the best purchases I've made is a pointed spade (I previously had a square one and was getting nowhere...), it's still a challenge anytime I need to plant anything large, but it makes much better work of the rocks and clay. I've since planted eleven trees in the garden, all providing shelter or screening in different areas, and I don't think I'm done yet! Trees act as natural buffers, filtering the wind to reduce its impact on other plants, whilst providing some shade in the height of summer.

The cherry tree five years later, providing dappled shade and acting as a wind buffer. Now incorporated into a new border I'm developing.

I also make use the existing structures in the garden, as our garage and fence line have created an area of shelter from the worst of the winds. We made an impulse purchase of a gorgeous red Acer which initially was in a pot but quickly outgrew it and needed a sheltered home in the ground. The fence line provides the perfect shelter for plants that need a bit more protection and the Acer has continued to flourish here. I've continued to learn the importance of finding the right position for fussier plants and on the flip side, looking the the conditions of a particular spot and finding out what will thrive there.

Learning to Accept Losses

I planted a lupin in a terrible part of the garden without thinking about it - heavy, rocky clay and far too shady, so naturally it died. I'd taken some seeds so grew them on and put them in the sunniest part of the garden - success!

This garden has experienced many failures. Some plants were planted in the wrong place, some were bought that simply would never survive the conditions, and some plants were neglected for one reason or another. Whatever the reason for the loss, it's not failure, it's data. We learn from our mistakes in all aspects of life and gardening is just the same. By learning from our planting failures we can avoid making the same mistake again, we can make the next year more successful and probably save money in the long run.

It's well known that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting a different result. Don't replant the same thing in the same place if it's not working, something has to change if you're going to get a different result. Look at a plant's preferences and look at your plot, maybe there's another part of the garden it would do better in, or maybe a different variety would be more successful. When you solve that problem, I promise it will feel more satisfying, even if it's not quite how you'd planned to begin with.

Making Room for Favourites

Salvia 'Amistad' is a favourite in our garden but it can't cope with the waterlogged conditions over winter so I keep a few over winter in pots.

We all have that one plant we just can't live without (or maybe more than one...) and just because you don't have the right conditions doesn't necessarily rule it out entirely. I have a number of summer-flowering perennials that I adore but wouldn't survive the winter outdoors, so I have large pots of them that I keep sheltered in the greenhouse during the coldest part of the year. I then also take cuttings from these which I grow on and trial in different parts of the garden and have had some surprises. I planted a Salvia 'Amethyst Lips' in the highest, most free-draining border in the garden and even though it doesn't tolerate clay and is an H4 hardiness (I try to stick to H5 here because of the low temperatures), it's managed to survive and is doing so much better than the one in the pot.

I also sow a lot of favourites like rudbeckia from seed every year to plant out into the borders, even though they may not survive, I just treat them like annuals. They're usually a bit slow to get going but with a bit of patience I can still enjoy my favourite flowers come August/September.

What I'd Tell Myself at the Start

Slow progress is still progress. Don't rush to fill the space, take the time to learn about your plot, how the sun moves throughout the year, where the shady areas are, where the waterlogged patches appear in winter. The more you understand the land around you, the better able you'll be to select plants that will thrive in you conditions.

By taking some time to observe you'll also come to learn what wildlife you've got around you. You can then look at what plants you could introduce, and where, to bring them further into your garden and enhance their lives too. For example, I have a lot of blackbirds and song thrushes that visit my garden so I've planted a native Rowan tree and a large holly, both of which produce berries loved by blackbirds, and seeing them gobble them up on a cold January morning is a lovely sight.

Let the garden teach you. There's only so much you can learn from books or tv programmes so just get out there, sow something, plant something, see what happens and take that knowledge forward into your gardening journey. Every garden is different and the joy is learning how to get the best out of your own plot, no matter how imperfect.