At the first sign of wilt I usually cut down all the affected parts right down into healthy tissue and then soak the roots with a good anti-fungal solution. This sometimes works, but not always. The affected plant is doomed for the rest of the season, but can make a comeback next year. The only lasting solution in my experience is to remove the plant altogether, that way identifying those hybrids and cultivars most susceptible.
It is in early summer I become aware of verdant Mother Nature. My hawthorn hedge needs clipping, my ivy-clad fences are groaning under the weight of new fresh growth growing in unpredictable directions, which all need controlling. Add to this innumerable clematis waving in every direction needing a firm hand again and I feel the need for a cup of tea and a lie down.
The best way of dealing with such a heavy early summer workload is of course to prioritise. The clematis are first on my list, because if left to squabble on their own will end up in hopeless tangles. I grow one or two of the herbaceous clematis, which are often recommended for ground cover. In my garden they wouldn't last a snails night without being munched by slugs and if grown at soil level. So I lift them skywards and train one on a large juniper and the other on a special frame, which is homemade and looks rather Heath Robinsonish but works. I should point out that all herbaceous clematis have no means of clinging to any support at all, so rely totally on the gardener for their direction in life.
My garden is cultivated for wildlife as well as for floral delight. I have had two notable bird visitors over the last month. The first was a Great Spotted Woodpecker, which just flew in and perched on an old tall tree stump and provided me with a few seconds of sheer pleasure. The other was a more familiar bird, a Jay, engaged in the very important business of bathing. This very colourful member of the crow family has the look of an escaped parrot; such is the superb combination of white, blue and sandy-brown feathers. Ducking its head under the water no more than ten feet away, I could see it?s very long prominent whiskers. To see such a shy bird at such close quarters was indeed a privilege.
